Page 24 of The Patron Saint of Timber Hollow

Saint merely chuckles at me before dropping a napkin laden with the most beautiful-looking golden, crispy pastry in myhands. A small puddle of Danish sweet cream lies amid the pastry, and a delightful drizzle across the top.

"That there is a motherfucking work of art, Saint," I murmur, taking a moment to snap a picture of it and send it to Sam with a drooling emoji.

"Thank you, Tiny," Saint replies as Sam's text comes through. She wants to know if there are any other flavors, specifically and coincidentally, strawberry.

"Anytime, Cinnamon. Can I bring one to Sam?" I ask, holding my phone out for him to inspect and see Sam's reply.

"Yup. But you need to prove it got to Sam, and you didn't just eat both."

"That's a bold accusation," I reply while Saint pulls a paper takeout box out of the cupboards, unfolds it, and places a strawberry pastry inside, just as Sam asked.

"Tell me I'm wrong, and I'll take it back."

I merely narrow my eyes at him and say he'll get his pictures. Saint places my pastry inside the container with Sams, depositing the box into my hands moments later.

"Have a nice night, Artemis."

Suddenly, I'mthrilledthat he's not entertaining Angel. Selfish as it is.

11

Rude

Despite my best attempts, I'm up early today and haveextratime to ogle the boys while they work out in the basement. I'm not in here nearly as regularly as they are, buttheydon't spend nearly as much time as their wolf as I do.

When I come downstairs, I use the mats, do a little yoga, do a HIIT circuit, or do bodyweight exercises, like lifting my body parallel to the floor using one of the metal beam posts to support myself.

The Whites' home gym did not feel...particularlyinvitingwhile any of the others were around. There was one on the compound, sure, but it was in Stephen and Cordelia's house. The large room was obscenely outfitted with every contraption you could ever dream of, including the new tech machines that give you an entire workout in four minutes. The entire wing had been painted a sterile white and grey, and the walls were lined with mirrors to reflect their ugly mugs.

They all used the gym. The boys preferred the weight machines, and their wives stuck to boring treadmills and bikes, with scowls permanently carved into their faces. This is how I ended up on my regular long walks around the compound. I'd much rather entertain myself in the woods than step insidethatparticular arena.

This morning, Jay, Saint, and Dante are here, each doing exercises on different machines, rotating through them together. Their synchronicity is almost hypnotic, sweat gleaming down muscled arms. Dante is easy on the eyes, but I know he has something going on with Ivy. Crushing on him is not my style.

Watching Jay turns into watching JayandSaint. Neither of them has a shirt on anymore, and since they're nearing the end of the workout, there is a flush to their skin, a glow. Jay's shoulders look delicious, as does his neck, and the indentation of his hip points down into his light grey gym shorts, which are practically obscene. The outline of his dick bounces with every rep on the bench press, and I don't know how that's not a constant distraction. Hell, his backward hat is enough of a distraction all by itself. Saint's blue shorts are also slung dangerously low across his hips but aren't quite as obsceneas Jay's. The light color of Jay's shorts reveals every ridge on him. I do suspect, however, that Saint is going commando. The waistband of his shorts is simply too low for there to be anything under, not to mention the very short inseam.Andthere is too much of that vine tattoo peeking out for him tonotbe going commando.

Saint shorts are so short that they're practically slutty. Every time he squats, the fabric rides up a little higher until I wonder if, at any minute now, he's going to have a dick slip.

And I guess I have it coming when I miss the jump on top of the plyo box, slamming into it on my ribcage because I'm entirely distracted by Jay and Saint's bodies.

"Fuck," I pant, flopping onto the floor, hearing the boys thundering over to me, feeling it through the floorboards.

"Everything okay, Gorgeous?" Jay asks, peering down at me with depthless blue-green eyes.

"Super!" I chirp, giving him a wide smile.

"What happened, Tiny?" Saint chuckles, offering me a hand up at the same time Jay does. I accept both of their hands, letting the boys lift me off the floor.

"I slipped and didn't make the jump," I chuckle, wincing at my tender rib.

Jay notices and lifts my cropped tee even higher, exposing my sports bra. The area is already red, and I will probably have a nice bruise for the rest of the day. He makes me stretch and move my arms and body around to ensure I haven't broken anything.

Despite myself, I let him fawn over me, only rolling my eyes once. Saint sees and smiles softly at me, but then Jay lays kisses across my ribs, making my heartbeat ratchet up. Saint's green eyes are still on me, a flash of his wolf rising.

Then, he says, "I'll go make you some fuel." Saint disappears upstairs with Dante, back muscles rippling as he takes down the bun at the back of his head, blonde curls bouncing.

"You okay, Darlin'?" Jay asks again, pulling my shirt back in place.

"Yeah, just missed a step, Handsome," I answer, smiling softly at him.