Inked

by Drew Elyse

  “Who are Jack and Cassandra?” I blurted.

  “He said it was his partner’s wedding,” Park surprised me by responding. “He also said you’d met him before.”

  How would I have met his partner?

  I only knew he was a cop because…

  The connection clicked. The officer that told me the truth about Braden. That had to be Jack.

  I looked at the invitation, noting the date was about five weeks away, and not getting it. “Why would he give me this?”

  Park came back in, a water bottle open in his hand. When he opened the other to reveal my next dose of pills, I glared. He was on my case all the time about taking them. Even though I was down to just over the counter stuff now, he insisted I keep it up if only to make sure the swelling stayed down. I stared mutinously, and he sighed when he got the hint.

  “He also mentioned that the wedding would be full of cops,” Park supplied, pushing the hand with the ibuprofen closer. Not dropping the glare, I took them and the water. “I think he’s trying to make a statement.”

  No, he was responding to my accusation that he didn’t want to be with me as Braden the cop. His partner’s wedding with a bunch of other cops there was definitely not the kind of thing he’d bring a dirty secret to.

  “Are you going to say yes?”

  Damn chatty Park. Why did I create that monster?

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why?”

  “You just have to decide if you’re willing to give me a shot to prove it.”

  I’d been playing over all he’d said since he walked away, especially that. I’d also been reliving the things I’d lobbed at him, especially the victim fetish stuff. While those had been his words, not mine, he was right. That was exactly what I was accusing him of, and it was probably way beyond what was called for.

  “He makes me nervous.”

  “Why?” Park repeated.

  Because I got way too invested too easily the first time. Because of my hang-ups from growing up with my mother. Because I was probably more fragile right then than I’d ever been.

  “Because I could actually care enough for him to hurt me.” And that was something I’d never allowed in my dating life. I could like a man, I could find him interesting and want to spend time with him, I could seriously get off on our chemistry, those were safe. But I’d never gone deeper than that.

  Braden somehow had me more invested than that without having much of a chance to make an effort at that. What he might be capable of if I gave him the opportunity scared the crap out of me.

  “Maybe that means he’s actually worth the risk.”

  The next day, after stewing on the invitation overnight, I was alone again. Park hadn’t pressed me about Braden or what I was going to do. He knew he’d struck a chord, and he left it at that. I, however, kept turning over what he said.

  Months ago, when Liam had started pursuing Kate, I’d tried to talk him out of it. It wasn’t because I didn’t want him to be happy, but all I could see was a grieving widow who might break his heart if she wasn’t ready to move on. He hadn’t listened, and it got them both a shot at happiness that even I couldn’t deny now. My own fears had been what was really behind that advice I’d given him.

  Maybe it was time I start ignoring them, too.

  I went to the window, something I’d caught myself doing too many times over the last few days, but his car wasn’t there. Steeling myself, I took out my phone and placed the call. It rang a few times before he answered.

  “Are you okay?” he asked right away, sounding startled.

  “Um…yeah. I’m fine.”

  He blew out a breath. “Good. That’s good.”

  “Are you okay?”

  There was a lot of rustling. “Yeah, sorry. I was asleep.”

  Of their own accord, my eyes went to the oven clock that I could see from where I was standing. Still a quarter after one, like I thought.

  “Asleep?”

  “Graveyard shift,” he said in explanation.

  “Oh, sorry. I can go if—”

  “Jess, you hang up that phone, I’ll be there banging on the door in ten minutes.”

  That felt good, and I didn’t let myself pretend otherwise.

  “Alrighty then.”

  He chuckled and having just woken up, it was deeper and richer than normal. I didn’t pretend that didn’t feel good, either.

  “Right, so, I was just calling about—”

  “My invitation.”

  “Will you stop interrupting me?” I snapped. I may have been weirdly gooey over this conversation and his sexy sleep voice, but I was still me.

  “My apologies. Go ahead.”

  “Well, thank you.” My tone was still snippy. “I was going to say that yes, I’m calling because of the invitation you dropped off.”

  “Calling to tell me to shove it up my ass?” His amusement wasn’t even a bit concealed, and I knew it was there in part because I’d called at all. He knew what that meant.

  “No.” I couldn’t find the words to tell him what I needed to, to apologize and agree to give this all a try. Being tongue-tied wasn’t something I was overly familiar with. Maybe I should have practiced first. It was all a little overwhelming now that it was really happening.

  “Jess?” he called, laughter in just that one syllable.

  “Yes?”

  “Will you be my date to Jack’s wedding?”

  There was no humor in that question. It was all serious.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to make me wait until then to take you out?”

  I was grinning. I couldn’t help it.

  “No.”

  “When I take you out, are you going to be this weird quiet person, or am I going to get my sassy goddess back?”

  “I’m sure it’ll be plenty quiet when I don’t show if you keep being an ass.”

  The smile was clear in his words when he said, “There she is.”

  “You know, some people would say you’re crazy for actually wanting me to throw attitude around,” I remarked.

  “Some people are fucking stupid,” he shot back. “You’re sexy as fuck when you don’t take anyone’s shit.”

  “Even yours?”

  “Especially mine.”

  Well, I had to give him one thing. He was good at this. I’d forgotten just how much in the months since I’d last been on the receiving end of his charm.

  “When do I get to take you out?” he pressed.

  Since my calendar was so full of doing absolutely nothing and going half insane, I turned it on him, “When do you want to?”

  “Tonight.”

  I laughed, and it occurred to me that it was the first time I’d done so since the attack.

  “I’m serious.”

  “Oh.”

  There was a moment before he said, “I can wait if you need time.”

  I moved down the hall and into the bathroom. I didn’t spend much time looking in the mirror. Seeing the fading bruises only served as a reminder that I’d rather avoid. But right then, I looked at them closely. It might take a little doing, but they should all disappear if I did my makeup right. The stitches in the cut that opened up on my cheek had dissolved though the mark would still be visible, but it was on the side where my hair hung, so at least it drew less attention from that. The spot where my leg had opened up had healed nicely. I’d probably want to wear tights, but I had plenty of outfits to pull that off.

  “We’ll wait. It’s too soon,” Braden said when I hadn’t responded.

  “No, tonight. I’m ready. Let’s do tonight.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” I cranked up the attitude to drive home the point.

  “Alright, then. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “Seven,” I echoed.

  “Later, goddess.”

  I gave my goodbye and hung up, only to immediately make another call. I had work to do.

  Chapter Seventeenr />
  Braden

  I was early, which my mom would say was rude. I’d tried to wait it out, but I’d been pacing around my place aimlessly. If she wasn’t ready, I’d wait. I just couldn’t keep doing that in my own living room without losing it.

  When I got to the building, I was buzzed up right away. Parker was waiting at the apartment door once I got up there. Probably because he had to disarm the security system before letting me in.

  “They’re almost done,” he said, standing aside so I could enter.

  “They?”

  In response, a tall blonde dressed in workout clothes came from around a corner with a smile on her face. “Hi, you must be Braden. I’m Ember,” she greeted, coming over to shake my hand. “You met my man, Jager.”

  I couldn’t help but be taken back by that. She seemed so bright and happy.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  Her grin grew. “I know that face. He’s surly, but I love him. And he’d lay down his life for me and our little girl.”

  To think the guy also had a daughter was even crazier. But if it worked, good for them.

  Before I could say as much, I heard heels on the hard floor and turned my attention down the hall. There, like a walking wet dream, was my goddess. She had on a skin-tight black dress with big red roses printed on it that cut across her arms instead of covering her shoulders. Her lips were painted red to match, and the pattern made the tattooed flowers on the side of her head stand out even despite the slight fuzz of hair filling in. The rest of her long, dark hair, was in big curls that I had to fist my hands against the desire to muss them up. There were dark, sheer tights on her legs that I couldn’t help but picture as thigh highs under there, tempting me more than I already was to get that dress out of the way.

  And taking it all in, knowing it wasn’t just her doing her usual look but that she did it up to go out with me, I was struck dumb.

  “Jesus,” I muttered.

  She grinned, and my eyes were drawn to her red lips. Fuck, the things I wanted to do to her lips.

  “Well, my work is done here,” Ember announced. “Time to get home before Jamie becomes any more of a daddy’s girl and forgets I’m alive.”

  “Thanks,” Jess said as she headed out.

  “Anytime.”

  I should have been polite and said goodbye. Obviously she and Jess were close, but I was too fixated on those fucking red lips.

  Or I was until Jess started walking toward me and I noticed her gait wasn’t quite right.

  I moved my eyes down to her heels. They weren’t as tall as plenty I’d seen her wear, but it was still obvious she wasn’t quite herself in them.

  “Did you hurt your ankle?” She knew I didn’t mean today.

  “Just a sprain, it’s better now.”

  “It doesn’t look better.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Just adjusting.”

  The attitude was creeping up, but that didn’t hold me back. “Don’t you have flats you can wear?”

  “No. I don’t really do flats.”

  “Fine, then wear sneakers.”

  Her hands hit her hips. “With this dress? Are you kidding me?”

  “Jess, you aren’t wearing those fucking shoes when your ankle is still healing.”

  “Excuse me?” she demanded, voice rising.

  Parker chimed in from across the room. “I told you he wouldn’t be good with the shoes.”

  “I think I know if I’m good to wear heels.”

  Christ, she was obstinate. “You stand on that foot in those shoes for thirty seconds, I’ll shut up about them.”

  One eyebrow arched. “Fine.”

  Throwing her small bag down on the couch, she bent her left leg at the knee to lift her foot from the floor. Then, staring me down, she held herself there. For the first ten seconds, I held her glare. It was when the tension started to creep into her jaw that I knew it was bothering her. Unfortunately, I could see from the heat in her eyes that the stubborn woman would grin and bear it for the full thirty just to prove a point. Meaning she’d just be in more pain walking around in those damn shoes, I’d have to give in on.

  “Fine, let’s go,” I gave in. “It’s not like you’ll be walking much anyway.”

  She grinned as she righted herself, and I watched as she subtly shifted her weight to her left side. I was going to either up my game or learn to deal with losing this kind of shit to her. Jess was stubborn enough to put herself in actual pain to hold her ground. Lord only knew what it would take to win a battle of wills with her.

  I’d forgotten about the fucking stairs when I gave in on the shoes. Though, it was clear she had, too. She’d had to take each step agonizingly slow. Despite my offers every other step, she refused to let me help her. This meant that by the time I finally got her ass in the passenger seat of my car, I was ticked.

  It was nearly ten minutes into the drive before she broke the silence with a quipped, “Well, this is starting off well.”

  I tried to resist, but it was impossible to hold back the grin at her sass. We rolled up to a red light a moment later, and I turned to look at her. “Are you always so bullheaded?”

  She shrugged, not repentant at all. “Pretty much.”

  “Why do I like it?”

  She tapped the side of her chin with a finger. “Masochistic streak?”

  I shook my head as the light changed and I accelerated. “You love to diagnose me, don’t you?”

  “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. Some people are into that.”

  God, I liked having her back like this. I’d wanted to get her back in bed with me, no question, but I’d also just missed sparring with her.

  “Is this your subtle way of telling me I didn’t deliver? You need something else in the bedroom?”

  She didn’t respond right away, and I knew it was because she was debating how far to push me. No matter what she tried to claim now, we both knew that the sex had been explosive. There wasn’t a thing either of us needed from it besides more.

  “No, I’m good. I mean, a spanking now and then isn’t out of bounds. But beyond that…” She trailed off with a shrug.

  I could actually see the restaurant up ahead, and now I was sporting a hard-on at the thought of bending her over and leaving a handprint on that luscious ass of hers.

  “You’re the devil,” I grumbled.

  She laughed, and my cock liked that almost as much.

  Evil woman.

  Dinner was going great. We talked, finally getting to do so without me having to be withholding. There were times in the past that it would have been easy to turn the flirty banter into actually getting to know each other, but it had been impossible when all the basics of my life were a secret. Now, without the job between us, we were able to get to know each other.

  I told her about my family, the cop heritage, the shit my brother and I used to get up to, even Gram and Gramps. She talked about Carson, the crew at Sailor’s Grave, the Disciples and particularly their women. After a while, I noticed what was missing from her stories.

  “You haven’t mentioned your family,” I said, gentling my voice in case there was something to the silence on that topic.

  She sighed. “That obvious, huh?”

  “We don’t have to talk about it. I was just curious.”

  She pushed her pasta around a bit, then set her fork down with what could only be described as finality. When she met my eyes, it became clear that she was determined not to avoid the subject.

  “I grew up in central Texas,” she started. “We moved there from closer to Houston when I was five. My mom liked to tell the story as my daddy was moving away from the good Lord’s teaching and she had to make the terrible choice to leave him to keep that influence from her little girl.” If it weren’t for the acid that permeated beneath the surface of her words, I’d have laughed at the way she brought a bit of Texas twang in that had obviously been natural to her at one point as she was paraphrasing her mother. “I guess it wasn’t
entirely a lie. The Bible does say adultery is a sin, and Daddy had actually taken off with one of his women on the side. My mother, who was all about her image, couldn’t stand the idea of being the woman whose man ran out on her and what everyone would think of her, so she packed us up and took off to another town where no one would know.”

  I reached over for Jess’s braced wrist. She’d been shifting her fingers on that hand around repeatedly as she spoke, like she was trying to make a fist but couldn’t manage it comfortably. Her attention moved to my hand, and she easily let her fingers wrap around it, settling.

  “I was a pageant girl,” she announced. My eyebrows went up, and she chuckled. “Yep. And I don’t mean one win and some measly local fair. No, I had more grand supreme titles than my mother had space to display the tiaras. Not that it stopped her from piling them in. She’d been a beauty queen for a spell and loved it. She signed me up for my first pageant when I was just eight months old.”

  “They do them that young?”

  “They do,” she confirmed. “It’s usually just a short part of a day or weekend full of competitions, but they’re part of the circuit. And at that age, you can’t even argue that it’s actually about talent or any of that. It’s just about what baby is cute. But pageant moms love it because they usually get to actually walk the stage holding their little future pageant doll.” The resentment wasn’t even slightly masked in those words. “I’m sure the only reason my mother entered me was to have a way back on that stage. When I started winning even as a toddler, she shifted her focus to making me into the beauty queen she’d been and more.”

  “Are we talking like the full crazy outfits and hair pieces shit?”

  Her smirk was amused as she asked, “Have you ever heard of a flipper?”

  “No.” And I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

  “It’s fake teeth. You can have just one set on the top or bottom, or a full set. They sit over your real teeth to hide any missing or crooked ones and give you a perfect smile.”

  “You had to wear one?”

  “I had full sets all the time from five to fourteen. It only stopped then because there’d been time for an orthodontist to work his magic on every little imperfection.” She gave me a full, obviously fake, smile to show off her very perfect teeth.