“Let me see.” Galen approaches with a first aid kit in hand.
Saint lifts me up by the hips, placing me on the counter. His eyes lower to my ripped, torn jeans and the dried blood sticking to my skin. “You’re fucking injured. Take them off,” he growls.
I know not to pick a battle with him when he’s like this, so I slide off the counter and shimmy out of my jeans. I pull myself back up on the counter, only wearing my sweater and lace panties. Both guys pretend not to notice my state of undress, but a charge of electricity ignites the surrounding space.
The damage to my legs is worse than it felt, although the various cuts all appear shallow, and I doubt I need any stitches.
Saint mutters under his breath as he makes sandwiches, and I avoid eye contact with Galen as he cleans the wounds on my hands first, applying a few Band-Aids. I grip the edge of the counter when he raises one of my legs, placing my foot flat against his chest as he examines the wounds on my leg. His fingers are cool against my skin as he gently probes the damaged area around my knee and on my shin.
He has singular focus, cleaning the cuts with rubbing alcohol and applying cream to the smaller cuts and Band-Aids to the larger ones. His touch is tender, his concern obvious, and it’s doing funny things to my insides. Saint watches us as he cuts sandwiches in half, placing them on a large plate. I tilt my head up and look at the ceiling, anything to avoid looking at either guy.
Electricity crackles in the air again, and my mind wanders to the gutter.
Images flit across my mind’s eye, of dual touches and caresses as they both worship my body, and I squirm on the counter while my core throbs with need. I wonder what it would be like to be ravaged by the Lennox cousins at the same time, and I thank my lucky stars that neither of them is mind readers, because there’s no way I want them privy to my present fantasy.
Yet, when I look at Saint, he has a knowing expression on his face, and I hate how keen his observational skills are.
“What?” I snap.
He walks toward me and brushes my hair to one side as Galen lowers one leg and raises the other one. Saint presses his lips to that sensitive spot just under my ear. “What were you thinking about just now?” he rasps, his warm breath fanning over my sensitive skin.
“Nothing.” A shiver overtakes me, and I close my eyes as his lips trail up and down my neck.
“Liar,” he whispers. “Were you imagining both of us with our hands on you?” He nips at my earlobe. “Both of us fucking you at the same time?”
Screw him and his ability to delve into my head. There’s little point denying it now. “What if I was?”
“That can be arranged.” He slides his hand under my sweater, running his fingers up my tummy and over my rib cage.
“You’ve forgotten one very important thing,” I pant.
Galen is pretending not to listen, diligently attending to the cuts on my leg, but from the rigid way he’s holding his shoulders, I know he’s hearing every word.
“You two should fuck your way to forgiveness,” Saint says. “It’s the perfect solution.”
I slap his hand away as his fingers brush the side of my breast. “Sex is not the solution to everything.”
“Says who?” Saint smirks, and I cock my head to the side.
“I use sex for a whole heap of reasons,” I admit, “but this is one occasion where sex is not enough. Fucking me is not going to magically make me forget how he tried to have me killed.”
“Then, what will?” Galen asks, gently placing my leg back down and standing. “Because I’m at a loss here.”
I jump down off the counter. “Me telling you how to fix it isn’t the fucking solution, that’s for sure. You’re a smart guy, Galen. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“I’ve got something,” Theo calls out, and it’s the perfect moment to break up the sudden heavy atmosphere.
We all crowd around him, watching the film roll across the screen on his tablet. We see the white van with missing plates pull up to the curb across from the diner, the two assholes jumping out and immediately opening fire. It’s as the guys said: they are wearing indistinguishable clothing, and there is nothing that confirms their identity.
“That’s him,” I say, pointing at the guy with the camera a couple minutes later when he appears on the screen.
“Can you zoom in on the plates?” Saint asks.
“Not from this angle,” Theo says.
“He doesn’t look like crew,” Galen says.
“He doesn’t look like a cop either,” Caz adds.
