A few minutes later, he helps her down, and I see that he turned her into a tiger. And it’s pretty f**king awesome. I knew he would be good at this. His job is art. The permanent kind. Of course, he rocks at it.
The kid’s dad shakes Paul’s hand, and one of the volunteers comes forward to take his money and lead someone new up to the stool.
A few kids later, I look up and find that our line is wrapping around our tent and down the row, and the end is way past where I can even see it.
Paul picks up his phone and makes a call. “Hey, Matt,” he says. “I want you to close the shop and come to the festival in the park. We need some help.” He talks for a second. “Bring everyone,” he says.
Paul grins at me, and I shake my head. He seems happy to be here. And I’m happy to have him with me. There’s not much I’m passionate about, but I am about art. And the Reed family. Put the two of them in the same place, helping out a charity I love, and I might as well be in heaven.
A cheer goes up when his four good-looking brothers show up and set up work stations. Logan brought Emily, Matt brought Sky, and Pete brought Reagan. They all get busy helping to take money and form lines for each of the tables.
The boys grin and settle in for the day. I hear giggles, and I realize that our line is no longer made up of only kids wanting their faces painted. There are teenage girls and even older women in line now, too.
“You guys are drawing a crowd,” I tell Paul. His face colors, and he shrugs. The man is seriously sex on a stick and he still blushes when he gets attention? I step up onto a chair and wrap my hands around my mouth. I call out to the crowd, “Attention, please,” I yell. “I think it’s getting hot out here, so they should all take their shirts off! What do you think?”
A cheer goes up, and I see people who aren’t even in our line stopping to watch.
Sam grins and yanks his shirt over his head. These boys have nothing to be shy about, I’ll say that for them. I fan my face and look at the crowd. “Just one of them? I think they need some encouragement!” I hold out the money jar, and people come up to put cash into it. I look down and mentally count. “There’s enough in here for one more of you to strip.”
Reagan looks at Pete and rolls her eyes. Then she motions for him to go ahead. Very slowly, Pete hooks his elbows in his shirt and draws it up over his head. The cheering from the crowd gets even louder.
Sky looks at Matt and motions for him to go next. “What?” she asks, throwing up her hands when he glares at her. “I am proud of my husband.” He pulls his shirt up high enough for the crowd to see the frog on his lower belly, but then he lets it drop.
He shakes his head and sits back down. “Not enough money in the cup,” he says.
“I have a thousand dollars for the three of you to do it!” someone yells from the back of the crowd. A lady walks forward, and we all laugh when we see that it’s Emily’s mom.
“That’s cheating,” Matt says. But he pulls his shirt off. Several women nearby sigh out loud.
Sky points to her round belly and says, “He has three at home already and two more on the way.” That makes me laugh, her feeling like she has to tell them that. But he just became the most wanted man out of the five because who doesn’t want a man who takes care of his responsibilities? Matt leans over and kisses Sky’s belly.
Logan strips his shirt off next. I hear some excited shouts and a few frustrated moans move through the crowd.
Paul is the only one left who is still wearing a shirt. “Your turn, big guy,” Mrs. Madison says. She fans her face, and the crowd goes wild. Paul stands up, turns to me, and says, “What do I get if I do this?”
I motion to the mass of people waiting. “Crowd approval?”
“Not enough.” He shakes his head and sits back down.
I lean over his table, resting on my palms, and ask, “What more do you want?”
The grin falls off his face. “I want everything,” he says. “But I’ll start with a kiss.”
Paul
Friday has paint smeared across her forehead and all over the side of her face, and I’ve never seen her look more beautiful. She leans over the table, and for once I can’t see her cle**age because it’s covered up by that T-shirt. Yet she’s so f**king sexy she takes my breath away.
“You want a kiss?” she asks. She sits back and puts her hands on her hips.
I nod my head. “I want a kiss.”
I watch her throat as she swallows so hard that I can hear it. “If I give you a kiss, you’ll take your shirt off?” she asks.
I stand up. “I’ll do just about anything you want me to do for a kiss, Friday.”
“Off with it, then,” she says. The crowd starts to chant, led by my brothers.
“Traitors,” I say to them. They laugh and rev the crowd up.
I reach behind my back, over my head, and grab my shirt with both hands. Then I pull it forward the way men do, slowly pulling it over my head. Friday’s gaze slides up my body as my shirt goes up, and I feel like her eyes are touching me all the way from my belly button to my shoulders.
The crowd goes wild when I throw the shirt down at my feet. Then I take a step toward Friday. “Time to pay up,” I say.
She giggles and turns like she’s going to run away from me. I hook an arm gently around her waist, pull her back to me, and turn her so that her front is touching mine from top to bottom. I slide my knee between her legs, and hitch her higher with my hands under her bottom. I squeeze her ass and lift her up toward my waiting mouth.