A Different Kind of Perfect (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Ceri Grenelle

  “It’s OK,” Alex murmured. The bench seat shifted as another body sat down on the other side of her. Colton pressed his cheek against her back and wrapped her arms around her waist. They enveloped her with warmth and security, assuring her in gentle tones that the shop would be all right and they would help her bring it back to its former glory.

  “Danny,” Alex called out after a few minutes, after the shaking had ceased and she began to feel slightly better, having purged some of the worry and fear from her heart through her near-silent tears. “Can you bring a slice of whatever dessert we have left out for Bleu?”

  Colton kissed the back of her neck, despite her being gross and sweaty from a day’s worth of manual labor. He pulled back, bringing her with him to lean on his chest, and wrapped his arms around her front. “No more tears. We’re gonna go to your place tomorrow and help fix it up.”

  “You’re sweet,” she said, pulling away from him to get some distance. Her emotions were fragile enough without wanting to give in to the need to break down and cry on his shoulder in addition to Alex’s.

  “But I can’t ask you to take more time out and clean up with me. I’ll have some of the guys from the shop come over, once the cell phones are working again, and we’ll clean up together. The glass for the window should be delivered by next week and we’ll be up and running in no time. As long as the power comes back.” She sighed, her attempted cheerfulness draining as the negative intruded once more.

  “No,” Alexis said. “You’ll call the artists from the shop, but we’re coming as well. I’ll have more staff here tomorrow so they won’t need me.”

  “But weren’t you gonna take food out to the beach tomorrow like you did today?” Alex had been one of the first people on site of the damaged beach area, near Father Capodanno Boulevard, with a container of comforting soup to ladle out to the people returning to their destroyed homes.

  “Bleu, I can send Danny or someone else to set up a food tent…but I can’t send somebody to give you support. You’re my friend.” He looked at Colt past her shoulder. “Our friend.”

  Colton propped his head on her shoulder from behind. “We’re going. Deal with it.”

  And as Danny placed a large slice of pecan pie in front of her, with Alex picking up the spoon and making airplane noises as he brought the food closer to her mouth, she smiled her first real smile in four days and took a bite of delicious pie.

  * * * *

  Bleu cringed as she stood in front of Ink Haven, huddling in her jacket against the cold wind. It was a quiet Saturday morning, nearly a week after the damn hurricane had hit. Saturdays were usually their best and busiest days at the shop. Her entire staff worked Saturdays to meet with their scheduled clients, but then there would be any number of walk-ins throughout the day in addition to all the appointments. Bleu loved walk-ins. She purposefully kept her Saturdays appointment free so she could handle the majority of the walk-ins.

  The walk-ins usually consisted of college kids getting their first tat or couples doing something spontaneous together. Bleu would help them craft and choose the tattoo, trying to make sure they didn’t jump into anything they would later regret. She chuckled to her herself, thinking how she couldn’t successfully advise all of them and how the results were sometimes hilarious. But the other times, when the people finished working through the pain to gain something beautiful, something lasting, the looks on their faces and the gratitude they expressed always stuck with her.

  Her smile fell away as the memories faded and she returned to the present and boarded-up shop windows that would cost more to fix than she had saved. The situation was a tad more dire than she’d explained to Colton and Alexis, not wanting to get into money issues and what a pain the insurance company was being.

  So many businesses and homes needed new glass windows that almost every company was unavailable by the time she’d called for an evaluation, having spent those first few days helping people in greater need than she was. Then the one company she was able to commission turned out to be complete idiots who had no clue what they were doing. They had shown up yesterday, looked around with their mouths on the floor, catching flies, and then charged her for basically nothing, telling her there was nothing they could do. That their business only did residential windows but they thought they could come out and bill her for nothing anyway.

  She was so angry from all the built-up sorrow and frustration. She took a nearby pebble from the parking lot and through it at the boards where her beautiful windows should be.

  “Hey, lady!” a thick New York accent called from behind her. She turned around quickly to see a large truck parked at the sidewalk. She’d been so wrapped up in her mind that she hadn’t even heard it drive up the quiet street.

  “What?” she called back, not in the mood to deal with any assholes that day.

  “Is this Ink Haven?” he yelled from the driver’s seat.

  “Yeah.”

  “You work here? Do you know”—he consulted a clipboard—“Bleu Leroux?” She almost laughed at the horrible pronunciation of her last name. He made it sound like Lee-roo-ux.

  “That’s me. What delivery?” She was a bit curious now and decided to stop the yelling match and walk down to the curb to speak with the man.

  “Glass panes for the windows. Boss said it was a special order.” He gestured to the back of the truck, as if she could see the glass he had stored there for her.

  “I didn’t order any glass,” she said as she came up to the truck, seeing he wasn’t the only burly, slightly balding man in the front cab of the vehicle. “Listen, if you’re from that crackpot company from yesterday, I already told you I’m not paying!”

  “Lady, chill. The order is already paid for by a…” He consulted the clipboard once more. “Mr. C. Evans. Paid for this week. We just haven’t been able to get out here earlier because of all the rush jobs we’ve been having to do. Crazy amount of business and all do to a storm. Man, glass companies love bad weather. Now can you move outta the way so we can back this rig up and unload? We got a lot of work to do and one more stop to make before the day is over. But I had clear instructions to come here first.”

  Bleu nodded, backing up to where she parked her car along the side of the building in utter silence. She was in shock. Paid for by C. Evans? What had Colton done? This was too much. How would she ever pay him back? It wasn’t until she heard the crash of wood on concrete that she came back to earth, the boards previously covering her windows on the ground.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked running over to the workers. “You guys want some coffee? I know it’s cold out and there is a great coffee place nearby.”

  “Coffee?” a large black man said with a toothy grin. “That’d be great. This week has been busy as hell.” The rest of the workers nodded in agreement. She took their orders quickly and walked down to the local coffee shop she frequented when at work. She didn’t even need to place an order for herself. They always knew what she wanted.

  There was only one person on staff that day as all the others were dealing with the fallout from Sandy. She chatted with the young girl for a bit, waiting while she filled the order. Bleu also bought a majority of the baked goods on display, figuring the men would be hungry after the physical labor.

  A half hour later she was running back to the store, two trays of coffee and a bag full of pastries in hand. When she turned the corner that brought her shop into view she stopped short, not understanding what she was seeing.

  Where the street had been empty not thirty minutes before, there were now cars lining the street. A large group of people were standing in her parking lot setting up grills alongside small tables filled with food and coolers full of drinks. She didn’t remember inviting anyone to a tailgating party in front of her shop.

  She approached the party slowly, trying to figure out what the hell could be going on when she began to recognize some of the people. First her employees came into view, holding steaming cups o
f liquid she figured were coffee or tea. Well, there went that trip to the coffee shop. She supposed she could eat all the pastries herself.

  She stopped at the curb, remaining on the periphery of the lot. She didn’t want anyone to see her just yet, as she needed to just observe and figure out what the hell was going on. The week had been a rollercoaster of emotions and she didn’t think she was handling this particular bump very well. She set the trays of coffee down and dug into the pastry bag, grabbing one of the fresh croissants. It was delicious and buttery as she knew it would be. As she started to peal the flaky layers apart, she recognized Daniela, Alex’s hostess cousin from the diner, flouncing around and chatting with some of the people. Why wasn’t Daniela at the diner?

  The glass truck had been moved to a side street to make way for this party that seemed to have sprung from thin air, and one of the workers at last spotted her, the driver with what she was thinking of as the magical clipboard.

  “Hey, lady,” he said, not attempting to pronounce her last name again. Smart man. “Sorry for the trip to the coffee shop. I didn’t know you had invited all these people. The guys and I could have waited.”

  “I didn’t invite them. I don’t know why they’re here. Do you know?” She offered him a cinnamon bun from the pastry bag. He took the gooey confection, raising it in thanks before taking a huge bite.

  “Yeah, Mr. C. Evans got here first, askin’ for ya. He’s over by the front door with some other guy who was lookin’ for ya.” He held out the beautiful, magical clipboard that said she was getting new windows free of charge. “Sign here please. Receipt of delivery yadda yadda.”

  She signed with vigor, standing on her tippy toes to give the man a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you!” she said, handing him the bag of pastries and moving around the crowd toward the entrance to her shop. By then the delicious smell of cooked meats had begun to permeate the air. Laughter and chatter echoed through the small lot as music played in the background.

  The people seemed to be having a good time and she recognized this little gathering for what it was. A sense of relief, a sign of good things to come. The city may be down on its luck, new reports of destruction and tragedies kept pouring in daily via their TV screens, but New Yorkers were resistant. They were hardy. They would bounce back, fiercer and more sarcastic than ever.

  Bleu reached the storefront and found Alex and Colton. They were leaning against the brick wall of her shop, cheeks bright and hair slightly sweaty from physical activity. They were each wearing sweaters, dirty jeans, and boots. It gave them a rugged, slightly disheveled manner, not that they needed it. Alex and Colt were pure masculine men. They could wear heels and fishnet stockings and they’d still look like the hottest creatures to walk the earth.

  The cool wind was rustling through their little gathering, making people huddle together or clutch their jackets closer to their bodies. The men were taking the former option, casually leaning against one another and rubbing their hands together in the universal gesture for warming up. Bleu had been noticing the physical ease between the two men more and more recently. Lingering touches, leaning on a shoulder while the other sat. Little things that most straight men would forgo for fear of being misconstrued as a different kind of affection.

  The wind picked up for a quick second and her hair tie pulled loose, making her long braid untwist into the wind. She gathered the strands and began to furiously twist them back into a braid. Large, tanned hands came over hers, taking over the braiding as an arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her in tight to a warm body. She looked up into Colton’s clear eyes, his arm rubbing hers up and down to keep her warm as Alex braided her long hair.

  “How can I ever repay you for this?” she asked, gritting her teeth to ward off the emotional tears pressing at the back of her eyes.

  “Don’t even think those words,” he said, kissing her forehead with an affectionate smile.

  Alex finished her braid with sure fingers and tied it off with what looked like a piece of shoelace. She wouldn’t even ask about it, the gesture was too sweet to begin with.

  “Anyway,” Colton continued. “It wasn’t only me who paid for the glass. I was just able to get the rush delivery.” They pulled her toward one of the food stations and poured her a cup of steaming hot cocoa.

  “Mmm, chocolate,” she murmured, inhaling the intoxicating scent of hot cocoa and sugar. “Is there cinnamon in this?” she asked Alexis, knowing he had something to do with it.

  “Sure is. Made it this morning. Nothing but the best for our blue fairy.”

  “Alex, I thought your diner was providing food for the people displaced by the hurricane, not just inconvenienced.” She nodded toward her shop, a tickle of glee forming in her stomach as the workers began to set another glass pane.

  “We are. There is a food tent out there right now with a couple of the servers dishing out some hot meals.” He pinched her cheek playfully, a warm smile lighting up his dark features. “I just had somewhere important to be today.”

  She couldn’t take it anymore. Their generosity and goodness overwhelmed her, propelling her to place her cup on a nearby table and throw her arms around them both, or as much as she could reach anyway. Bleu squeezed them tight, thanking her lucky stars these men had dropped into her life and wondering what she would have ever done without them.

  “Bleu!” Reggie called, walking over with that lanky swagger he owned like the rock star he was meant to be. “New glass panes, huh? That’s the shit. What are you going to paint on them this time?”

  She pulled away from her guys, wiping any stray tears that may have fallen during her emotional upheaval. Her gaze strayed from the new panes being installed, to her employees standing in the cold on that fall morning and supporting her, supporting each other.

  “I think it’s time for that window to have some art other than my own. Ink Haven may have been mine when I opened it, but it’s much more now. It’s all of ours.” Bleu glanced around and found a plastic chair. She dragged it toward the center of the gathering and pulled herself up onto it, accepting Alex’s hand up.

  “Hey, kids!” she yelled to get everybody's attention. Once the crowd quieted down she folded her hands together and placed them against her chest. It was remarkable to think that just ten years ago she had no one to help or support her. Now she had a whole new family full of misfits like herself.

  “Thank you for coming out today. I can’t tell you what your support and generosity means to me. This morning I was at my wit’s end, I had been beaten down by that bitch, Sandy. I thought she’d taken the best part of me and destroyed it. But I was wrong. This place, it’s just a building. There are a million more like it across the world. What made Ink Haven, well, a haven, is standing right in front of me. You, my friends and family are what make Ink Haven a joy to come to work to everyday. It would be nothing without you. I would be nothing without you.” Her eyes strayed to Alex and Colt on that last note and the conviction and pride in their gazes made her knees go weak for just a second before she turned back to the crowd.

  “So, I see we have some new windows now.” She smirked, biting her bottom lip in glee as she recognized the excitement on her tattoo artists’ faces. “They’re a bit too clean for me, a bit too blank. I think we all should put our mark on those windows this time around. What do you say?”

  A loud cheer echoed throughout the lot and the artists rushed her, helping her off the chair and inundating her with ideas and requests for what they thought would look good on the storefront. Through the circle of artists that had cornered her she spotted Alex and Colton, smiling at her. Colton was leaning on Alex’s shoulder, whispering something in his ear with a smirk. Alex laughed, nodding in agreement to whatever Colt had told him. No one had done anything like this for her before. No one had ever taken the time to go out of their way, spend that amount of money and call in favors just to make her out and make her happy. They truly were the best men she had ever known and she vowed to herself
she would do anything and everything to make them as happy as they had made her that day.

  Chapter 6

  Two weeks later, Alexis watched Bleu glide around Colt’s living room as she demonstrated with Colton how to do tai chi or something. He was too busy staring at her lithe body to remember the name of the movements.

  Colton had invited them over to finally see his apartment in Astoria, and to celebrate Bleu’s shop reopening after Hurricane Sandy. True to their words, Alex and Colton had spent the better part of the two days following the spontaneous parking lot gathering cleaning and fixing up Bleu’s tattoo shop. There had been no flooding, thank goodness. Most of the damage had been cosmetic. Still, he could see how important the space was to Bleu and her artists from their emotional reactions to the damage. They had worked their asses off trying to get the place as pristine as possible, restoring it to its former glory.

  Colton and Alex had seen the frustration and sorrow brewing inside Bleu. At the diner that day she’d been at her wit’s end, worrying about the shop and what she would do if she couldn’t get it up in running again. It wasn’t only her business and livelihood on the line, it was employment for twenty rotating tattoo artists that would lose work if her shop didn’t reopen.

  That evening Alex had snuck out to Ink Haven with Colt after dropping Bleu off at her apartment. They observed the damage and took stock of what needed to be fixed in order to open. They surmised there was some deeper reason, most likely financial, for not being able to get new windows, since that was the main source of damage to the shop.

  In the end, Colton had contacted a friend who owned a glass company, one he’d used through his firm multiple times, and called in a favor for her. It was Daniela who had suggested having a little parking lot barbeque to lift Bleu’s spirits. Alex vowed to turn to his little cousin in the future whenever there was a need for party planning. When she didn’t have her head wrapped around boys, Daniela was scary efficient.