by Nicole James
Liam came in and moved to the coffee pot. As he poured himself a mugful, his eyes shifted to Jameson. “Max told me what happened last night. She okay?”
“Yeah, just shook up. She’s okay now. You get her sister home okay?”
Liam nodded as he returned the carafe to the burner and turned toward him. Leaning one hand on the edge of the counter, he brought the mug to his lips. With it poised to drink, he added, “Heard it was one of Ryder’s crew. How’re we gonna handle that?”
“We?”
“We’re brothers, right? Got each other’s backs don’t we? And we all like Ava. She shouldn’t have to deal with this shit. Not because of our shop.”
“She shouldn’t have to deal with blowback on anything to do with Brothers Ink.”
Liam took a sip. “Agreed. So what’s the plan? We come down on anyone in that club, we’ll have the whole lot on us.”
“I’ll deal with it.”
“The hell you will. Not alone.”
Jameson shook his head. “I’ll deal with Ryder. He’ll deal with the problem.”
“You sure about that?”
“Absolutely. Ryder likes his ink—our shop, specifically. We’ve done all his work, haven’t we? I doubt he’s gonna let this bullshit fuck that up. Besides, she sits on the city council. Any shit goes down with her, that’s media attention he does not want. I guarantee.”
“You dealing with him today?”
“He’s out of town till the end of the week.”
“Ava lives alone, from what Steffy told me. You gonna keep her out here till then?”
“She’s got a stubborn streak. That may be a problem.”
Liam chuckled. “Hmm, who does that remind me of?”
“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” Jameson replied with a grin.
“So how you gonna protect her if she won’t stay?”
“I figure I can keep her here at least until Monday or Tuesday.”
“And then?”
“I got that trip I’ve got to make to Denver. Guess she’s goin’ with me.”
Liam huffed out a laugh. “How’re you gonna pull that off?”
“It’s business. I’ll just make her go.”
His brother chuckled again. “Right. I’ll buy a ticket to see that show.”
Jameson shoved his shoulder.
Max came in, and having heard the end of their conversation, added, “I don’t think Jamie will have any trouble convincing her.” He grinned over at Jameson. “Walls are thin, Bro.”
“Christ,” Jameson muttered, shaking his head. Then his eyes drilled into Max’s. “You say anything to her, you’re dead.”
“I wouldn’t dream of embarrassing the lady.” He put his hands up in surrender. “You, on the other hand, are a different story.” He dropped his arms and made a thrusting motion.
Jameson threw a paper towel roll at him, wooden stand and all. The roll came loose, rebounded off Max’s bicep and bounced to the floor. He tried to make a grab for it and came up with the wooden dowel holder. He promptly moved to Jameson and wrestled him into a chokehold with it as Liam dodged out of the way, attempting not to spill his coffee.
At that moment, Ava walked into the kitchen with Rory.
“Rut row,” Rory said in his best Scooby Doo voice.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Liam greeted her, moving to put an arm around her shoulders as they watched the two men wrestling.
“Good morning,” she murmured, taking in the show as the men roughhoused, bouncing from cabinet to cabinet.
“Can I get you a cup of Joe?” Liam offered with a grin over the scuffling noise.
Jameson finally shoved Max off. “Knock it the hell off, dickhead. There’s a lady present.”
“Yeah, there is, so watch the cursing, Brother,” Max reminded him as he straightened his black tank top. Then he moved to Ava, taking her face in his hands to gently press a kiss to her cheek. “How are you, sweetheart?”
Jameson took in both Liam with his arm around her shoulder and Max kissing her cheek and said, “Quit pawing all over her. Both of you.”
Max stepped back and gave Jameson a look. “What crawled up your ass this morning?”
“Language.”
“Oops. Right. Sorry, doll.”
Ava looked up at Liam. “Did you take Steffy home last night?”
“Yes, ma’am. Dropped her off, walked her to the door.” He paused to look at Rory, a big grin on his face. “And got a kiss goodnight.”
“You suck,” came Rory’s reply to that.
Liam chuckled.
“That’s okay,” Rory continued. “I hear she likes guitar players.” He looked meaningfully at Ava.
Liam’s eyes moved between them. “Not for long. When she saw the mob of groupie chicks around the stage, she told me no man was worth standing in line for.”
“Blow me.”
“Who’s cooking breakfast?” Jameson asked, putting an end to their squabble. All their eyes swung to Max.
“Okay. Guess that would be me,” Max replied. He gave Ava a wink. “I make a mean omelet. You like omelets?”
She grinned back. “Love them.”
***
After breakfast, the brothers made themselves scarce, leaving Jameson and Ava alone. Jameson moved to the sink, dumped the dregs of his coffee, and turned back to Ava. “You want more coffee?”
She sat at the breakfast table, her chair turned toward where he stood at the sink, and shook her head. “Can you take me back to my car?”
Jameson frowned at her. Today was Sunday and the shop was closed. “Can’t we pick it up tomorrow when we go in to work?”
She didn’t answer.
Then he noticed her glancing at the calendar and fidgeting with her hands. “Ava? You have somewhere you need to be today?”
She nodded.
He came to stand over her. When she finally looked up at him, he said, “I’ll take you anywhere you need to go, just tell me.”
She looked down at her hands. “Today’s the seventeenth.”
His eyes hit the calendar, and then dropped back to her. “What’s the seventeenth?”
“Lily’s birthday. I usually put flowers on her grave.” Her big eyes lifted to him.
He nodded. “Okay. Then we’ll put flowers on her grave. We can leave whenever you’re ready.”
She stood and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
He longed to be a source of strength for her. He liked that she’d leaned on him last night. He’d liked that she’d needed him. He wanted to take it further. He wanted her to depend on him. The fact that he had those feelings made him realize just how deep his feelings for her were beginning to go.
He watched her walk up the stairs, and he thought about how she was beginning to wrap around his heart without even trying.
***
An hour later, they were in his truck heading across town. Jameson turned toward Ava. “Have you talked to Steffy?”
“Briefly this morning. She’s meeting me at the cemetery.”
“Did you tell her about last night?”
“No.” She looked at him sharply. “I don’t want her to know, Jameson.”
“Always the big sister, huh? Protecting the rest, even when its you that needs the support and protection.”
She stared out the window. “I’ll be fine. I just… I just don’t want her to worry. What purpose would it serve?” She turned back to him. “I mean it. She doesn’t need to know.”
He took his attention from the road to search her eyes, thinking there was more he wanted to say. In the end, he gave in. “Fine. She won’t hear it from me.”
She looked back out the window. “Thank you.”
He pulled his truck down the curving drive of the cemetery she’d directed him to. He came to a stop where she indicated. It was overcast with a light drizzle falling. His intermittent wipers swishing across the windshield was the only sound in the quiet cab of the truck.
The cemetery was beautifully kept with rolling grass
y areas nestled amid majestic trees. He got out of the truck and went around to help her down. She had a bunch of flowers they’d stopped and purchased gathered in her arms. He followed her silently through the headstones until she finally stopped at one.
Ava brushed some leaves and pine needles off the top of the stone and laid the flowers across it.
Jameson stood watching, giving her all the space and time she needed.
She stared at the gravestone a long time and then whispered so softly, he almost didn’t hear. “How do you move past a loss like this?”
Her eyes turned to his, looking for an answer he didn’t have. “I don’t know, Ava. I think you just have to go on living. It’s what she’d want.”
A few minutes after they arrived, the sound of another vehicle drew their attention. Jameson turned to see Stephanie climbing out of a red compact car. She approached the grave, her own bunch of flowers in her hands.
The two sisters embraced.
Jameson moved to his truck, giving them privacy to mourn their sister. He leaned over the side of the truck bed, his hands folded, and thought about what it must be like to lose one of your siblings. He tried to imagine losing one of his brothers, visiting their grave every year, feeling the heavy weight of guilt that insisted there was something you could have done to prevent it. He could hardly bear to think about it, much less live it as these two girls were doing.
He murmured quietly to himself, “I can’t imagine losing one of them. Don’t know how I’d handle that.”
The girls spent about a half an hour at the gravesite, and then they hugged each other goodbye. Ava walked back toward his truck, and her sister headed to her car.
Jameson opened the door for her, and she climbed in without a word. They were both quiet as they headed back across town. The rain picked up again, the temperature dropped.
Jameson reached across the space that separated them and squeezed Ava’s hand. She tried to give him a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“I know what you need,” he said, trying to cheer her up. A few minutes later, he pulled up to a small café.
She started to reach for her door handle, but he stopped her.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
She nodded blankly at him as he exited the truck. Five minutes later he returned with a paper tray, two coffee cups nestled in it. He held one out to her. “Here, I got you a White Chocolate Mocha Espresso.”
She stared at it. “Do you know how bad those are for you?”
He chuckled. “Well, sorry. They were all out of green slime smoothies.”
“They’re not slime.”
“Right. Keep telling yourself that.”
“They’re very good for you.”
He continued to hold the cup out to her until she finally took it with a secret smile that told him she really liked them. He paused, staring at her. “Oh, crap. You’re gonna have me eating right, aren’t you?”
She gave him a challenging look. “Yup.”
“Shit.”
“You just had no clue what you were in for when you took me on.” She giggled.
He started the truck up, smiling. He’d gotten her laughing, and that was all that mattered.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jameson was up in his office Monday afternoon. He stood at the window, looking out over Main Street, his thumb moving over the screen of his cell phone. He put it to his ear. When the call was answered, he spoke. “Ryder? Jameson O’Rourke.”
“O’Rourke. I was going to give you a call. You got any spots open up for me? I’ll be back in town in two days.”
“That all depends on you.”
“Yeah? How’s that?”
Jameson leaned a hand on the window frame, his eyes on the distant line of the horizon. “Had an issue the other night with one of your crew. Apparently it isn’t the first, I’m finding out.”
“What kind of issue?”
“Bald guy that was in with you? He’s been harassing my girl. New one that works the front counter.”
“Harassing? You want to elaborate on that.”
“He broke into her place the other night. Was waiting inside when she came home. Jumped her. Luckily my brother showed up, and he took off.”
“Did she involve the police?”
“Not yet. I thought you and I could work this out.”
“Work it out how?”
“You want anymore work done in this shop, you’ll make sure he stays away. She never lays eyes on him again, understand? Oh, and one other bit of information that may decide this for you. She’s on the city council. Anything happens to her, are you really gonna want that kind of media attention?”
There was a long silence on the other end, and Jameson knew that Ryder didn’t like being dictated to. And Jameson understood that, but he hoped the man would make the right decision and save them all further problems. He heard the man blow out a slow breath before the reply finally came.
“You’ve been a friend, O’Rourke. So, I’ll do you that solid.”
“Appreciated.”
“Tell the lady she won’t see him again.”
“Thanks, Ryder.”
“Reserve me that time.”
“Done.”
Jameson disconnected and slid his phone into his pocket, staring out his office window. He hoped that was the end of it. If not, it was going to kick up a shit-storm.
The phone on his desk rang. He glanced over to see the button lit up that indicated a call from Ava at the reception desk. He picked it up. “Yeah, babe?”
“There’s a woman here to see you.”
“I don’t have an appointment scheduled now, do I?”
“No. She said her name is Courtney Kemp.”
Well, I’ll be damned. He smiled. “I’ll be right down.”
***
Ava hung up the phone and looked at the woman standing before her. She was older, perhaps fifty, but still beautiful. Her long dark hair was thick and silky without a hint of gray, and bespoke time in an expensive salon. She had on a pair of faded skinny jeans and heels, a peach colored silk blouse with tons of chains around her neck, and a snakeskin handbag over her arm that screamed money.
“He’ll be right down, Ms. Kemp.”
“Thank you.”
The woman pushed a pair of designer sunglasses up on her head, revealing dark brown eyes that reminded Ava of Penélope Cruz.
The sound of boot steps pounding down the stairs echoed through the shop. A moment later, Jameson came into view.
“Courtney, how’re you doing, sweetheart?” He wrapped his arms around the woman, hugging her close.
Ava watched the two of them, studying every nuance. They broke apart.
“How have you been, love?” the woman asked Jameson, her hand on his chest.
“Things have been well. And you?”
“I’ve been in New York, darling. I was surprised to hear you had an art book being published.”
He smiled at her, and it was in a way that made Ava feel there had to be history between these two—a long and possibly even an intimate history.
“I do.”
“And then I come home and what do I see but posters up all over town that carry your picture, proclaiming you as headlining bachelor for the charity Gala next weekend.”
Jameson’s eyes shifted to Ava for a split second, and then he was guiding the woman toward the back. “Come up to my office, and we’ll catch up.”
“I do hope you still keep a bottle of my favorite scotch.”
Their voices trailed off as she heard Jameson assure her he did, and her soft laughter disappeared up the stairs.
Ava was surprised by the flare of jealousy that suddenly flamed to life inside her. She could think of nothing but that woman and Jameson and what she meant to him. The woman meant something; that was obvious. But why did it hurt so badly? Ava had only spent two nights with the man. Yes, they’d been phenomenal. But after all, until just recently, they hadn’t even
liked each other. Perhaps his feelings could flip back just as quickly.
Jameson had seemed happy to see the woman, and he’d wanted to spend time alone with her. What did that say? Ava wasn’t sure. But it led her to believe that maybe she’d misjudged things, that maybe he didn’t feel what she was beginning to feel for him. That was something she couldn’t risk—making a fool of herself like that over him.
Her anger flared. A self defense mechanism of course, but that didn’t make it any less genuine. She turned back to her desk, attempting to put it all aside and try to think of anything other than the fact that right now Jameson was upstairs alone with that beautiful woman.
About forty-five minutes later, Jameson escorted Ms. Kemp down the stairs and out the door. Ava could see through the plate glass window that he walked her to her car, which was parked right in front. They paused by the driver’s door, talking and laughing. Then they hugged, and as they pulled apart, Ava saw them kiss. It was just a quick peck, but it was on the mouth.
He held the door while she climbed in. He leaned in, smiled, and said something, and then stepped back and shut her door. He stood watching her pull away.
When he came back in the shop, Ava pretended to be busy with the appointment calendar.
He paused next to her desk, leaning on his elbows with his arms folded. “You want to take a break?”
Without glancing at him, she replied, “Nope. I’m good.”
She felt his eyes on her, but still she kept her gaze on the computer screen.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yup. Fine.”
She heard him move, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw he was gone from the spot where he’d been standing. A split-second later, he was spinning her chair around, grasping her by the hand and pulling her up. He led her through the shop, down the hall, and into the private tattoo room.
Her eyes went wide as his hands went to her waist and plopped her up on the padded table. His palms pressed into the padded leather on either side of her knees. He stared at her.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” she said sarcastically.
He tried to suppress a grin. “Don’t be cute.”
She shut up.
“You have questions. So ask them.”
She frowned, not sure what he meant.
