Page 73 of Final Offer

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I frown. “Please try to look a little less excited about torturing me.”

“There are plenty of ways I’d enjoy torturing you—all of which you would be excited for.”

My head empties of any coherent thoughts.

Are you surprised? You always knew he was a flirt.

Knowing and experiencing are two very different situations. My heart rate skyrockets as he taps the barstool next to him, and I fall into it with the grace of a newborn foal.

Cal gets up and washes his hands like a doctor prepping for surgery before returning to clean the tweezers and needle with rubbing alcohol. I shut my eyes as I place my hands palms-up on the counter.

The first prick of the tweezers picking at my skin makes me wince.

“You still like sitting out on the dock at night?” Cal asks.

I appreciate the distraction. “Yeah.”

“What about Cami?”

“I have—had—a baby monitor before I tripped.”

His lips turn down into a frown. “That thing is a death trap.”

Another pinch against my skin has me grinding my teeth together. “Then why wereyouout there?”

“Because one of us was blessed with a gift called balance.”

I pop one eye open to give him the stink-eye. “You scared me, and I ended up tripping over a nail that was sticking out.”

“This place is a lawsuit waiting to happen.” He shakes his head with a sigh before returning to prodding and poking at my hands.

“It’s not that bad.”

“You have about twenty splinters embedded in your skin that say differently.”

I can’t tell if his annoyed tone is due to the splinters in my hand or the fact that he is the only one available to take them all out.

“One down. Nineteen more to go.”

Motherfucker.

“There. All done.” Cal solidifies his place in hell as he wipes my hands with rubbing alcohol.

“It feels wrong saying thank you after you tortured me for an hour, but thank you.”

“It was twenty minutes tops, you big baby.” He doesn’t make an effort to let go of my hands yet.

“You smiled when I screamed, you psychopath.”

“It brought back good memories.”

I smack him in the chest, only to wince when my sore skin makes contact. “Ouch.”

“Let that be a lesson that physical violence is never the answer.” He flicks my nose.

“Says the man who tried to choke a police officer.”

His nostrils widen. “We’re back to this again?”


Tags: Lauren Asher Romance