His phone rang, and he twisted to dig it out of the hip pocket of his jeans that lay on the floor by the bed. Hope flooded him once again that maybe it was her calling.
He stared at the screen.
Jameson.
He put the phone to his ear, taking the call. “Yeah man?”
“What time are you leaving?”
“Noon.”
“How’d the show go?”
“All right.”
“Everything okay, brother?” Jameson had always been able to read him like a book.
“Yeah. Everything’s fine.”
There was silence on the other end. His older brother didn’t buy his lie. “We’ll talk when you get back.”
“Yep.”
Liam disconnected and tossed the phone on the bed. He slid his jeans on and again moved to the window. He leaned his palm on the frame and stared out at the traffic and the morning sun rising in the distance. He was different today. Last night had left an indelible mark on him. He stared at the horizon, but all he could see was Velvet’s sparkling eyes. All he could hear was her soft laughter. All he could taste was her sweet kiss.
And now she was gone.
Goddamn.
***
“Sounds like you’re in a bit of a predicament.”
Velvet sat across the booth from her brother, slowly stirring her coffee. “You could say that.”
Vano was well dressed, as usual, in a pair of expensive jeans, a nice button down, and his dark hair slicked back without a lock out of place. He grinned his Cheshire cat grin. “The best thing for you to do is come back home with me.”
Velvet let out a huff. “Home? Where’s home this week?”
“Grand Junction. I’ve opened up a shop. I could really use some help.”
“A shop? Doing what?” She really wasn’t interested in the answer; her brain was still stalled back on the location. Suddenly she felt light-headed.
“Don’t be obtuse. A tattoo shop.”
“A tattoo shop?” That drew her from her trance. “You tried that once. You hated it.”
“I didn’t hate it. I just had other opportunities come up.”
She took a sip of her coffee cup and set it back in the saucer. “You were shit at it.”
“Gee, thanks.” He leaned his folded arms on the table.
“Sorry, but you know it’s true.”
“Whatever.” He met her eyes. “Well, are you in?”
She looked away. “I don’t know.”
“I’ve got some artists working for me now. The place is doing pretty well.”
Her gaze snapped back to his. “What do you need me for then?”
“You’d be a big draw for business, and I could use a hand. You got a better offer right now?”
Velvet drew in a deep breath and scanned the restaurant, her eyes going to the street beyond the window. She flipped the spoon on the table over and over. Vano would suck her right back into whatever shit he was doing. She knew it, and yet, what choice did she have? She was flat broke. No place to live and no job. Perhaps she could stand it long enough to get some modeling jobs lined up. Or maybe she could get another calendar put together. But Grand Junction was where Brothers Ink was located. What if she ran into Liam again? Perhaps it wouldn’t be too hard to lay low. Surely she could avoid him for a few weeks.
Hell, she couldn’t lie to herself; she’d want to catch a glimpse of him, at least from a distance.
“Velvet?”
Her brother’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she turned back to him. “All right. Temporarily.”
“Suit yourself.” The smile on her Vano’s face betrayed the fact that he thought he’d succeeded in getting her back under his thumb.
If he thought she was going to be as easily manipulated as she’d been by her family in the past, he had a rude awakening coming. She’d been making her way on her own for years now, and although they constantly tried to suck her in, she swore her time with them would be short.
She had dreams in life, and she was determined somehow to make them happen. Being sucked into their bullshit was not part of her plan.
CHAPTER FOUR
Liam’s mind wandered as he cleaned his tattoo station. He operated on autopilot a lot these days since he returned to town.
“So, how did the expo go?” Maxwell wiped down the chair at his station, his gloved hand running over the seat and armrests.
Liam pulled his gloves off with a snap and tossed them in the bio trashcan. “Good. Lot of people.” Talking about it was the last thing he wanted to do.
Max gestured to the calendar Liam had recently stuck up on his mirror, the one Rory had gotten for him. “Was she there?”
Liam glanced up and reluctantly answered. “Yep.”
“Nice. Did you get to meet her?”
“Yep.”
“You’re a man of many words, brother.”
Liam folded his arms and leaned on the counter. “Guess I just don’t kiss and tell.”
Max froze mid-swipe, his brows lifting and a sly grin tugging at his mouth. “You dog! No way!”
Liam just grinned back, returning momentarily to the happiness he’d felt in L.A.
“How the hell did that happen?”
He shrugged. “We met in the hotel bar. I bought her a drink.”
“And?”
Liam ran one palm over his tired neck. “And what? You want a blow-by-blow?”
“Hell, yeah!”
“Sorry, not gonna happen, Max.”
“You gotta give me something! Did you two make a connection?”
Liam stared at the tile floor, not really seeing it. “Off the fucking charts.”
“I’m happy for you, man. You seeing her again?”
Liam shook his head. The same pain he’d felt waking up that morning and finding her gone flashed through him.
“What? Why not? You got her number, didn’t you?”
“She snuck out the next morning.”
Max frowned. “That sucks. Any idea why?”
“No clue. Everything was great… at least I thought it was.”
“Sorry, man.” Max was quiet for a moment and then continued, trying to inject a lightness to his words. “Chicks. Sometimes there’s just no figurin’ ‘em out.”
Liam nodded. “Guess so.”
“She know where you work?”
“We talked about the show.” He frowned. “I think I mentioned the shop.”
“Well, maybe she’ll call here.”
Liam rocked forward and stood. “Yeah, maybe. Let’s go get a beer.”
“Sounds like a plan. Did you lock the front door?”
Liam headed to do the task.
“You know we could always drive out to the farm to have a beer.”
“Malee’s not gonna mind?”
“Just because I got married doesn’t mean you have to move out. It’s your home just as much as it is mine, Rory’s and Jameson’s.”
“I just thought with Jameson moved into his new place with Ava and the baby, maybe it was time I moved out, too, and gave you some privacy.”
“Liam, I never asked you to go.”
“I know, but you’ve got Ben now, and Mrs. Larsen’s living there, helping take care of him, and look that’s all great, but I just feel like the third wheel, you know? And now with Malee pregnant—”
“Are you happy living in town?”
Liam shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Why?”
“You’d rather live in that tiny apartment over the bakery?”
“Hey, livin’ over the bakery has its advantages; breakfast is only steps away and the place always smells like fresh baked bread. Can’t beat that, man.”
Max chuckled. “Yeah, as long as you don’t put on twenty pounds.”
Liam patted his flat stomach. “That’s what sit-ups are for. That and I’ve been running a lot.”
“Hmm. Yeah, I heard you’ve been running. You should stop by the gym and spend some time with the punching bag
. Or I could always go a couple rounds in the ring with you.”
“I’m not suicidal. Thanks.”
Max put Liam in a headlock and pretended to punch him in the face. “You sure? Maybe I could rearrange this mug for you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Velvet took a walk through town one afternoon. She had to get out of the shop and away from Vano. He was a shit artist, and she knew he was using her as a draw for business, but she felt like she was useless.
Being back in Grand Junction was bittersweet. She hated working for Vano, but Liam was here. She drifted aimlessly toward Main Street, turning right and heading down the block. Maybe she’d stop and get a Frappe. Her steps slowed as she approached one storefront window with colorfully painted silk garments and artwork all beautifully arranged. While she appreciated them, she couldn’t help the pull that turned her head to look to the shop across the street.
Brothers Ink. His shop. Liam O’Rourke.
Velvet remembered him. How could she forget?
She had decided to work for her brother, even though it put her back in her family’s clutches, because she’d be near Liam. Try as she may, now that she’s seen him in LA, she couldn’t stay away. She had become obsessed. She’d walked by the place at least once a week since she’d come back.
Liam had made her want more—to remember how she was before she’d become so jaded.
She stared at the storefront window, longing for the missed opportunity and what she could never have. They’d spent one incredible night together in LA. The sex had been great, but that wasn’t the first time his hands had run over her skin. She remembered the first time he’d put his hands on her and how sweet he’d seemed, and then later how devastated he’d been.
Everything about that day was burned into her brain—the good and the bad…
The bell above the door tinkled as Velvet entered the shop—the one her mother and brother had picked out. They had said it was ripe for the picking. It was a new shop, just getting started in the business and therefore its reputation was on shaky ground. Her mother said they would pay dearly to protect that fledgling reputation, making them the perfect mark.
Velvet’s eyes strayed nervously to the art on the wall. Photos of tattoos they had done and drawings of art they could do stretched from the plate glass window to the counter. Their work was good—better than most shops her mother and brother sent her to.
Boots scuffed across the wooden floor, and she turned. Her mouth parted at the man who moved behind the reception counter.
He was tall, muscular, and gruff looking, with brows that slashed deep over brown eyes. Ink ran up both arms, disappearing into the flannel shirt he wore with the sleeves cut off.
Peeking out from the open plackets of his shirt were words scrawled in ink across his collarbone. I can’t change the past and I can’t predict the future.
Wasn’t that the truth?
“Can I help you?” he asked in a voice so low it rumbled. The question drew her eyes from his skin.
“I want a tattoo, but I don’t have an appointment.”
His eyes roved over her body slowly before returning to her face. “You gotta be eighteen to get ink, sweetheart.”
“I am,” she lied.
His brow lifted. “You got some ID?”
She reached in her bag and took out her wallet. Taking out the fake ID, she passed it to the man.
His gaze shifted from it to her. Apparently satisfied, he held it out. “You know what you want?”
She nodded.
He glanced at the clock. “I’ve got some time before my next appointment. If it’s not too involved, I could probably knock it out.”
She pulled a piece of folded paper from her pocket. It wasn’t what her mother told her to get, but she didn’t care. This one time she was getting what she wanted.
She handed it across the counter to him.
His eyes met hers as he took it. He glanced down and nodded. “Okay. Shouldn’t be a problem.” He grabbed a clipboard from under the counter and slid it toward her. There was a release form clipped to it. He held out a pen and pointed to several areas. “Read this and initial each section, then sign the bottom.”
She did as he asked, feeling his eyes on her the whole time. She pretended to read each section and scribbled her initials and then her name at the bottom. When she held it out to him, their eyes met, and she felt some emotion zing through her. It affected her so much that she dropped her gaze and sucked her lips into her mouth.
The clipboard slipped from her hand as he took it, and she glanced up. Just a quick dart of her eyes, but she caught the motion as he jerked his head. “Come on back to my station.”
Following him around the corner, she took in the two stations on each side of the narrow shop. He stopped at the first one on the left and patted his hand on the bottom of the adjustable chair. “Have a seat, sweetheart.”
As she did, he studied the scrap of paper. It was a hand drawn sketch of a bunch of wildflowers and a butterfly.
“Where did you want this?”
She lifted her arm and pointed at the tender flesh on the inside of her bicep.
“Okay. Did you want it with some color?”
She bit her lip indecisively. “Umm….”
He cocked his head. “You mind if I suggest something to you?”
“No.”
“Let me sketch something out.” He turned to the low counter under a mirror on the wall and began drawing, his big hand moving with quick, strong sweeps. Everything about the way he mastered the pen in his hand indicated he was a man confident in his abilities. She began to relax. A few moments later he twisted back and turned the paper to face her. “How about this?”
It was like the design she’d given him but a hundred times better. She smiled. “Yes. Do that. I love it.”
“You want color?”
She shook her head.
“It’s a simple design. I can draw it freehand, unless you want me to take the time to do up a transfer.”
She met his warm brown eyes. His appearance was intimidating, but the look in his eyes was soft, almost tender.
“You’ll do a good job? You won’t mess it up? This tattoo…it’s important to me.”
“I won’t mess it up.”
“You promise?”
He made an X over his heart. “Cross my heart.”
She found that endearing, as was his smile, and she knew she could trust him to do this tattoo with all the care as if it were a major piece that cost hundreds of dollars. “Okay.”
“How big do you want it?”
She gestured toward the paper. “That size.”
He held it against her skin. “Like this?”
She glanced down and shook her head. “I want it running vertically.”
He turned the paper. “This way?”
“Yes, right there.”
He pulled it away, and as he snapped on some gloves, his eyes met hers. “This your first tattoo, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she murmured the lie, knowing her other tattoos were well covered.
He cleaned the area and then held the paper back up. “Here, right?”
She nodded, and he made a couple of marks on her skin to make sure he got it exactly where she wanted it, then set the paper on his work tray.
“How’s your pain threshold?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Then why do you look so nervous?” When she didn’t reply, he patted her knee. “Don’t worry. This shouldn’t be too bad.”
When he was finished and had cleaned the area, he held a mirror up for her to see the ink marked into her skin.
He hadn’t lied. The tattoo hadn’t been bad at all. He’d treated her gently, joking with her and keeping her talking to distract from the discomfort. As she’d watched him work, she’d soon realized she was in skilled hands.
She couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at her mouth as she examined his work.
“Are you happy wit
h it?”
She looked up to see his eyes on her and could tell he was sincere in his question. He truly wanted her to be pleased with the work he’d done. “Yes. It’s perfect. I love it.”
“Good, darlin’. Glad to hear it.” He gave her a cocky grin, took the mirror from her, and quickly salved and bandaged her arm. When he was through, he pulled his gloves off with a snap, tossed them in the trash, and held his hand out to help her down.
She slipped her hand into his warm palm. He’d touched her plenty in the process of tattooing her, but there was something intimate about holding a man’s hand. The feel of hers in his much larger one, the way his closed around her fingers, how he lingered a bit longer than necessary before almost reluctantly dropping away as he gazed down at her from his towering height…
He settled his palm on the small of her back as he guided her back to the front, making her feel protected, as crazy as that sounded.
Unbidden, the thought floated through her mind of what it would be like to have a man like him someday.
Now that the work was done, the high from getting the tattoo was beginning to wear off and the fear of what was to come when her mother saw it took hold. And even worse… the humiliation she would endure when her mother dragged her back in here and pretended to be outraged that this shop had “put a hideous tattoo” on her underaged daughter.
It was a scam her mother had used over and over since the time Velvet had come home with her first ink. Her mother had dragged her to the shop and berated the owner, threatening to sue him for every penny he had. After all, everyone knew gypsy girls didn’t get tattoos, and especially not of English boy’s names. It was an affront that had infuriated her mother. That is, until the man had offered her five hundred dollars to sign the consent form and go away. Her mother had signed and left with the cash in hand, but she’d done so with a new plan in mind, a new way for the family to make money. A new con, and it was one that would make them thousands.
Suddenly her daughter’s marketability on the marriage front took a backseat to her greed. She no longer cared that her daughter’s skin would be tattooed, as long as there was a payoff in it for her.
Velvet nodded politely as Liam went over after care instructions with her and handed her a printout with it all spelled out. She’d heard them enough times in the last few months.
Liam Page 3
