Page 35 of Hard Ruck

“I think we can both agree it’s not green,” she said with a laugh.

I glanced up at her and grinned. “I think I want to say it is green, just to see what you’ll do.”

“You’re such a brat,” she teased. “Speaking of, how many boyfriends are you up to now?”

“We still haven’t discussed the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing,” I said, with a hint of frustration. “I’m seeing four of them, currently. But when Dallas and Atlas find out what’s going on, I might be down to two.”

“You poor thing.” She clicked her tongue.

Playfully, I swiped the brush across the top of her foot, leaving a line of polish.

“Hey!” she protested. “You’re supposed to paint my nails, not my foot. That tickled.”

I glanced up. “Sorry, not sorry.” I started on the fourth nail, careful because the last two were so small.

“That was what I figured,” she said. “Did I mention you’re a brat?”

“It’s one of the things you like about me,” I retorted. “And vice versa. Now, would you keep still? I wouldn’t want to accidentally get nail polish where it shouldn’t be.”

She used to finger quotes while saying, “Accidentally.”

“Exactly,” I said as though being literal. “You want me to do a good job or not?”

“I do,” she said. “No one does my nails like you do. You might have missed your calling. You should have been a nail technician.”

“I’ll bear that in mind, if this medicine thing doesn’t work out,” I said.

It wasn’t a bad idea if things went to hell. There was no way the guys were going to let me go back to dancing. They’d probably tie me up in Frost’s cabin for the rest of my life before they allowed me to strip for strangers again.

“Painting my nails must be much more satisfying than saving people’s lives,” she joked. “If I could afford it, I’d pay you to do them every couple of days.”

“If you could afford it, I might let you,” I said. “Then I could spend the rest of my days on the couch with a good book.” Or on my bed with one of the guys’ faces buried between my thighs. There were worse fates.

She sniffed. “I’d have to find something else for you to do. You could be my personal physician and nail polisher.”

“Where do I sign?” I lightly blew on her drying nails before grabbing her other ankle and starting to work on those nails.

“I’ll speak to my team of lawyers.” She leaned against the couch cushion. “We should do these spa days more often. It’s so relaxing.” She took a sip of champagne from the glass in her hand.

“It’s a nice break from how hectic everything has been for the last while,” I agreed.

I only had a week left in my practical training before final exams. After that, the real work started. Applying for jobs while hoping like hell the Smashers hired me. Or searching around for a practice I could work in while I waited for an opening on a team somewhere.

“What are you going to do if you can’t find a job in Dusk Bay?” she asked. “Will you be looking for somewhere to set up a nail salon?”

I snorted. “Maybe. I think I’d have to go back to school for that though. How long does it take to get a qualification in nail technology?”

“Probably less time than medicine,” she said. “That was your first mistake. If you’d gone straight to nail school, you’d be an owner of your own salon by now. Knowing you, you’d have a chain of them.” She held up a hand in front of her. “I can see it now. Chelsea’s Nails, in pink neon.”

“Or red neon,” I said, nodding towards her nails.

“Being colour blind might be problematic,” she teased. When I made to wipe polish across her other foot, she laughed and held her hand over the top of her foot. “I’m kidding, kidding. It is close enough to both pink and red to be confusing.”

I gave her the side eye. “Let’s go with that. In answer to your other question, I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe go and work with my brother.”

“You always say you wouldn’t do that,” she said softly.

“I don’t want to,” I said. “I love him and all, but I’d prefer to leave the killing to other people.”

---