Charmed as he is, even with a flush rising to his cheeks as his eyes linger on the bit of strong frame and lean-muscled arm in his immediate vision . . . Jack snorts.

He can't help laughing. He's never been able to, and especially with his patient preening so matter-of-factly, taking all of it seriously becomes essentially impossible.

"Of course. You and that sculpted, godlike visage," he replies, snugging the last knot and snipping the tails before reaching for the ointment and bandage to finish the dressing. "Vandalism to put a scuff on that."