“Well, we all have our baggage. You know this won’t be easy,” Colt said gently, stroking her cheek with care.
“I don’t want easy,” Bleu said, tugging Alex up so she could brush her lips against his. “I want love. I want be loved like how I love you both.” They both grinned at her words, leaning in to give her a double kiss.
“Loving each other is the easy part,” Alex murmured against her neck, reaching across her body to hold Colton’s hand.
“And everything else?” she asked, her brows furrowed with worry.
“Then it’s a good thing there are three of us to carry the load and give each other strength,” Colton said, smoothing the lines of her worry away with a finger. Alex smiled at the sight of his lovers comforting one another, and he promised himself that in the morning they would give Bleu what she had missed out on tonight due to their exhaustion. With that thought, he snuggled against his loves and fell fast into sleep.
Chapter 12
“OK, you’re done.” Bleu pulled the tattoo gun away from her client’s skin and went through the process of showing him how she correctly disposed of the needle. She cleaned the excess blood off his skin and helped him from the chair to the standing mirror. They had been conceptualizing and working on this beauty for about six months now.
“Bleu, you’re an artist.” Brian turned to her with a smile. “I knew it was going to be good…but this should be in a museum.”
“You’re right. Hold on a sec while I get my fillet knife so I can skin you and mount the tat on my wall.”
“Ah, a grim artist.”
“Hmm. No dice? I suppose a picture will have to suffice.” She grabbed the camera off her desk and brought him to the specialized area she had set up for taking pics of tattoos. In three months, she’d call him back in to take another pic of it fully healed. Bleu always emphasized to her employees and fellow artists how important it was to document their work. Even something as small as a shamrock on someone’s butt.
“Stay still. Hands at your side,” she said, focusing the camera on the man’s well-cut chest.
“So, Bleu, it’s been awesome working with you on this,” Brian said as she snapped a few pictures of his envisioned family crest done in the style of a gladiator’s armor. It was stunning. She was so proud of her work and couldn’t wait to show Alex and Colt the pictures. The man looked like he had actual bronze plates forged into his skin.
“For me as well.” She lowered the camera, feeling that fifty pictures was probably just enough. “Let’s get you patched up.”
He stood in front of her and she massaged the gel into his skin and then placed the bandages. “You know the deal with healing right? Do I need to give you the spiel?”
“After ten tats I think I’ve got it by now. You really are amazing, you know. No tattoo artist has ever put so much time and energy into creating something for me.”
She began to clean her work area as they chatted. “It wasn’t all me. You were right there pretty much every step of the way.” When he didn’t say his good-byes as he normally did once they were done with a session, she began to feel slightly awkward. He had yet to put his shirt back on and was leaning against the bench, watching her clean her station. “Emry at the front will take of the bill for you, Brian. It was good to see you again.”
“We should celebrate,” he said after a moment, a smile she could only describe as charming gracing that smooth face of his. Brian was a handsome man. Classic American boy-next-door features. Brown hair, brown eyes. Nice, athletic physique. But the problem was, he knew it all too well. Her guys were confident in their looks and prowess but they didn’t flaunt it. Brian was preening so much for her she thought he was about to sprout a peacock’s tail and begin a mating dance.
“Come out with me tonight. Let’s get a drink or something.”
“Sorry, I can’t,” she said with a polite smile, catching the eye of Reggie, one of her employees. She knew the men of the shop tended to think she was a frail and wilting flower, even though she had presented them with evidence to the contrary on numerous occasions. She took his shirt off the wall hook and handed it to him, meaning to walk past and head back into the storage closet. He grabbed her hand and pulled her in close, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles lightly.
“We’ve worked together for months now and I hardly know anything about you. Wouldn’t you like to get to know me better?” His hand tightened on her hand when she tried pull away. She sighed in relief as the sound of the bell over the door jingling signified a customer walking in.
“I’m sorry, Brian, but I can’t. I’m in a relationship. Now please let go so I can greet the new customer.”
“You have a receptionist for that.” He pulled her even closer, raising one hand to sweep some flyaway hairs from her face. “Come out with me. You’ll have fun, I promise.”
“Brian,” she said with a smile, but a tone edging toward annoyance. “It has been wonderful collaborating with you on the tat but that is where this ends. I am in a very serious relationship—”
His hand framed her face. “You can’t tell me you haven’t wondered these last few months—ah, what the fuck?” Bleu’s face was hard and angry as she dug her nails into his skin and pulled his hand off her face.
“Clearly you don’t understand when a woman is not so subtly telling you to back the fuck off. I’m done with being subtle and I’m done with being nice. I am in a relationship with not one, but two men who I love very much and would be glad to kick the living shit out of you. But you know what’s even more awesome about them than their protective instincts? They know and trust that I can do it myself.” She shoved him away and pointed toward the receptionist. “Now as I said before, Emry will help you settle your bill and Reggie will see you to your car. You don’t mind, right, Reg?”
The long-haired, heavily pierced man stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest with a smile that edged on predatory. “My pleasure, B.”
“Thanks, Reg. It’s been fun, Brian, but I think you should go somewhere else for your tats from now on. Have a great day.” She walked out into the back alley of the shop, into the clarifying chill of the day, to collect herself. What was that about? That was the fourth time she’d been randomly hit on by a customer this week. What, did she have a sign over her head that said up for a gangbang on her head?
Bleu was hoping for at least ten minutes to cool off, but no more than two minutes later Emry, her pink-haired receptionist, came to fetch her back into the shop.
“Is there a problem?” she asked her, hoping that Brian hadn’t caused more of a scene and pissed that she probably wouldn’t get tipped for all that work she’d put into the tat.
“No, Brian left. There’s a guy here to see you.”
“Is it Alex or Colt?”
“Neither. Please, I know what your hottie boyfriends look like. I’ve never seen this guy before but he seems to know you. Also, I can’t put my finger on it, but he looks kind of familiar.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I dunno for sure but…I swear I’ve met him somewhere before.”
Bleu became increasingly intrigued as her annoyance with Brian waned. She walked with Emry back into the shop, spotting the man in question with his back turned to her and leaning against the reception desk.
“Can I help you?” she said, walking up to him with a smile. He turned around but she still didn’t recognize him.
“That was quite a display with that pesky client of yours.” The man had a clear Southern accent and was around five feet six inches with strawberry-blond hair and hazel eyes. He wasn’t thin but not muscular either. He wore a thin blue T-shirt under a gray pea coat with blue jeans and brown boots. There was a cute sprinkling of freckles across his face that made Bleu want to smile just a little. Bleu couldn’t disagree with Emry now that she’d taken a good look at him. There was definitely something oddly familiar about him.
She shrugged. “He didn’t understand that the concept of
‘no’ is taken a little seriously here.”
“It’s nice to see a girl able to stand up for herself, protect herself.”
“Thanks. So, is there something I can do for you? Are you interested in a tat?”
“No, I’m not really into the whole needle thing.” He hesitated a moment before asking. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
“Should I?”
“Well…I am your eldest brother.”
Freckles. A memory slammed into her mind with such strength she had to grip the reception desk. What she saw now was curly strawberry-blond hair, hazel eyes staring at her in a mixture of confusion and disdain as her aunt and uncle brushed off her distress at the revelation that they weren’t her true parents. A skinny, gangly boy with his arm around a female sibling, staring at Bleu like she was a zoo animal.
“I’d appreciate it if you go,” she said calmly before turning to go back outside. Her heart was pounding. She needed to call Alex and Colt.
“No, wait.” He gently took her hand, stopping her. “Please, Bleu. I haven’t come here to be cruel.”
“Then why are you here?” She tugged her hand away, not wanting to start another scene in the shop. “What could you possibly want?”
“I want to know you,” he said. “Mom…she passed last spring.”
She crossed her arms across her chest defensively. Did he expect her to be sad about the death of a woman who’d discarded her? “I’m sorry for your loss but she was never really my mother and you know that.”
“I know. Just listen. Before she died, she told me about everything that happened to you. The drugs…the accident.”
“Psychotic breakdown,” she corrected with a flat voice, staring him down. Challenging him.
“Well it wasn’t—”
“No, that’s what the doctors called it. It was official. I went clinically insane for a little while. No pretense between siblings, right? Call it what it was.”
He looked around in embarrassment, clearly not used to someone talking about this type of thing in public and in such a brash manner. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”
She glanced at her watch. “I have a couple hours before my next client. There’s a coffee shop down the street.” She didn’t want to bring him to the diner even though it was close. If Colt and Alex knew who he was, she was sure they would react with hostility. She grabbed her coat as she passed Emry and said, “Em, I’m stepping out for a while, I’ll be back before my next appointment. If Alex or Colt call or show up, tell them…I ran out for coffee with a new client.”
“Ooooookaaaay,” Emry said with raised eyebrows at the blatant fib she was giving.
“Who’s Alex and Colt?” he asked as he opened the door for her and they walked toward the coffee shop.
“My boyfriends.” She pulled her coat tightly around her, the crisp air no longer feeling clarifying.
“So you’re a heartbreaker, huh?” He grinned at her and she tried to ignore how similar their smiles were.
“It’s not like that,” she grumbled, entering the coffee shop that was literally around the corner from her shop. She waved at the baristas and took a seat by the window. They knew what she liked and would bring it to her once the line shortened. “They’re dating each other as well. It’s a ménage.”
He paused for a second before sitting. She stayed quiet letting that little fact sink in. Finally he just shook his head at her. “You Yankees are so fucking weird.”
“I wouldn’t have been a Yankee if our parents hadn’t been too lazy to raise me.” One of the baristas brought over her latte. It gave her a small amount of pleasure when they ignored him, clearly taking note of her hostility toward him. “So what is it? Why are you really here?”
“We didn’t even know you were alive, Bleu. I remember Mama being pregnant with you and then you were gone and nobody was speaking about you. I figured she’d miscarried or you were stillborn. When you were introduced to us as our sibling, we were privileged, whiny rich kids thinking you were going to come in and be the new baby they were obsessed with…while forgetting about the rest of us. I’ve been through it a few times.”
“I blocked a lot of that one visit out. I don’t even remember your name.”
“Amedee.”
“Seriously?” She couldn’t help but shake her head “Bleu? Amedee? What were they thinking?”
“Our folks?”
“Your folks, and yes. Our names are horrific.”
“You seemed to have embraced yours.” He nodded toward her hair.
“Self-preservation,” she said, taking a sip of the coffee. “Had to make the name mine.”
“Our names are seminormal compared to other Cajun babies back home.” He chuckled before quickly sobering and putting his hands on the table, appealing to her. “Bleu, you’re my baby sister. Or at least you were. It’s taken me a while to track you down and I’d really like it if we were able to know each other. I see you’re doing well for yourself, in a happy—if freaky—relationship. I know you don’t need me…but I want to be your brother. I want to try at least to be your brother. If you’ll have me.”
“I just don’t get it. Why now?” She put her hand up before he could interrupt. “I get that your mama died and you’re probably feeling sentimental because of it. But you can’t just come up here and assume I’m going to cave and we can start acting like all the shit I went through never happened.”
“I don’t want that. I just want to be a part of your life. And you’re right…I am feeling sentimental. But it’s more than that. Ever since I was old enough to really understand what our parents did when they gave you up I’ve wanted to make it right. They didn’t just give you away, Bleu. They took you away from me and the others. They took my choice to get to know you away. I want that choice back. So here I am…amongst Yankees,” he said with roll of his eyes, mocking his ancestry. “So I can get to know you…sis.”
They were quiet for a moment, Bleu fiddling with her coffee cup. “Amedee…do you know why they gave me away?”
“I know that our aunt and uncle couldn’t conceive and our folks weren’t exactly the loving and nurturing type.” His mouth turned down in a frown and the corners of his eyes tightened. The topic was definitely a source of frustration for him. It made her like him a little. “But…I don’t think they saw us as anything other than a way to keep the family name intact, a commodity.” Amedee abruptly sat forward and grabbed Bleu’s hands, entwining their fingers. “And that’s how they treated you from the start. But we all felt it eventually.” Bleu hesitated a moment before tightening her hand in his, so unfamiliar with this type of familial affection.
“I’d like to know you better,” she admitted, realizing with amazement that if it weren’t for her relationship with Alex and Colt, she wouldn’t have been able to open herself up in this way. Just another thing to thank them for. “But I need you to understand, I’m my own person. I have a life and I have two men who I’m unashamedly in love with. And they love each other. If that’s gonna be an issue for you, then you can just go home. I don’t have time for bullshit drama.” She thought that covered it succinctly.
He studied her a moment before letting go of her hand and standing. For a second she thought he was going to leave and damn if that didn’t hurt. But he surprised her by pulling her out of the chair and swinging her into a hug. It took a moment for the shock to wear off, but once it did, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight grip, savoring the feel of her brother. Her brother.
“Thank you,” he whispered before kissing her forehead. Bleu heard his voice catch and laughed, pulling away from him, not attempting to hide the tears welling up in her eyes.
“Wanna come hang out at the shop for a bit? I don’t have any appointments for a while and I have a date with my guys later but, the next few hours are free.”
He swung his arm around her neck, tugging her to him, and dragging her out of the coffee shop in an adorably brotherly way. “Sounds like a good time, kid.”
Chapter 13
Colton couldn’t stop smiling all week long. When he woke up, during the day at work, the hours he spent at his workshop, and of course the hours he spent with Bleu and Alex, smiling like a fool the entire time. He’d been in relationships before but never knew it could be like this. Never knew it could be this good and well rounded and just…awesome.
He sighed as he walked into the diner, inhaling the homey smells that melted the winter’s chill from his bones. Neither he nor Bleu had been back to Annabelle’s for a while, wanting to give Alex a chance to tell his family before they started hanging out there once more. But Alex had been adamant about wanting them there tonight.
Which was sort of relief, as they all had been so busy this past week that they had hardly had any time together. Colt had needed to be at his own apartment most of the week due to a book contribution he was working on and Bleu had been working such weird hours that she would just crash once getting to Alex’s place. And even though Colt had spent last night at Alex’s place, he had still felt the need to leave during the night and head to his workshop.
It was a quiet night at the diner. Only a few customers were scattered about and most of them at the coffee bar chatting with Daniela, the teenager who usually ran the hostess stand. She waved at him over the customers’ shoulders and he gave a grinning nod in her direction before heading over to a booth by the window.
Shrugging his coat, gloves, and scarf off, he collapsed onto the cushioned seat and turned to watch the beginnings of a snowfall flutter across the street. He always loved the winter and its funny dichotomy of quiet frigidity paired with the hustle and bustle of the holidays.
“Hey.” He looked up to see Alex, looking sexy as hell with a red chef’s jacket on and a slightly sweaty brow from the heat in the kitchen.
“Hey yourself—” Before Colton could finish his greeting Alex knelt on the booth’s seat, cupped his face in both hands, and kissed him like a man already making love to him. Colton threaded his fingers through Alex’s hair and moaned into the kiss, not caring who was watching. His pitch-black curls were frizzy and had more of a kink as opposed to their usual silky feel. It was a fucking turn-on thinking of Alex as dirty and sweaty. It was even more of a turn-on thinking of him becoming dirty and sweaty from all the things Colton wanted to do to his body.
A Different Kind of Perfect (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 17