She reached the afternoon, and found herself at a loose end. The apartment was clean now, and she’d done everything she could to make the place feel like her own. Checking the time, she realised she would get away with calling a friend back home. She’d exchanged a few text messages and emails with her best friend, Laura, but, due to the time difference, she hadn’t managed to speak to her yet.
Feeling nervous, but not quite understanding why, she swiped the phone’s screen and called her friend’s home number.
She answered on the second ring. “Hi?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
Laura took a breath. “Oh, my God, Tess. How are you? Is everything okay? How’s England?”
She laughed. “Which question do you want me to answer first?”
“Any of them. No, the first one. How are you?”
“I’m okay. It’s strange being here, but I think I made the right decision. I don’t know, it’s early days yet.”
“What’s the building like you inherited? As fancy as you’d thought it was going to be?”
She laughed again, and it felt good. “No, the complete opposite! There’s a tattoo shop downstairs, and the apartment upstairs was a complete dump when I first got here. I had to get the guys from the tattoo shop to come up and help me clean.”
“I bet they loved you for that.”
“Well, it was their mess. Two of the men didn’t mind, but the one who runs the business wasn’t too happy.”
“I bet he wasn’t,” she said, though Tess could hear the delight in her friend’s voice. “What’s he like?”
She tried not to think about him fucking her from behind on the staircase right below where she was standing, and pushing her against the wall and shoving his face between her thighs.
She realised Laura had spoken again. “Oh, sorry?”
“I asked what he was like.”
“What you’d expect—big, tattooed, a bit sullen.”
“Sounds like a laugh a minute.”
“Yeah, he’s a bit like that.”
On the other end of the line, Laura fell silent and then said, “Hey, we went to visit Brett the other day. It didn’t feel right, now you’re not around.”
An unexpected lump choked her throat. “Thanks, Laura. Give him my love.”
“I will, Tess. It’s weird you not being here anymore. This town is too quiet.”
“I had to go though, I had no choice.”
“I know, sweetie. We miss you, that’s all. Everyone keeps asking how you’re getting on.”
“That’s one of the reasons I had to get away.”
A silence fell between them, and then Laura spoke, “Hey, look, I have to get to work.”
“Oh, yeah, I forget it’s first thing in the morning for you.”
“Stay in touch though, okay. We love you, and miss you.”
“Miss you, too.”
Tess hung up, blinking back tears. She knew she couldn’t go back to her old town—she’d left that part of her life behind her now—but that didn’t mean she didn’t miss it. But living there had been an emotional struggle every single day, and it hadn’t got any easier. She needed this move, even if it had brought its own challenges.
The day outside was unusually bright. She needed to get out of this apartment and go and see some of the city. She’d hunkered down here, trying to acclimatise to all the changes in her life, but at some point she was going to have to start actually living. She had money coming in from her inheritance, but she couldn’t just rely on that. She needed to work, if only for her own sanity, though she had no idea what she’d be any good at. Everything that had happened back home had meant she’d never focused on her future or a career, but she was going to have to start somewhere.
Tess was in one of the best cities in the world, but she’d barely seen any of it.
Making up her mind, she gathered her jacket and purse, and slipped her feet into a comfortable pair of sneakers. The spring weather had made her cast off her usual jeans in favour of a small summer dress, to which she added a soft grey cardigan to keep off the chill. The tattoo shop downstairs was open and in the full swing of business. Music blared and voices drifted up to her. She’d sneak out the back, so she wouldn’t need to speak to anyone. Not that she was trying to avoid anyone in particular.
Tess moved slowly and carefully down the stairs, like a teenager sneaking out in the middle of the night. The door dividing the studio and her staircase was closed. Another door leading out to the small courtyard out the back stood ajar. Tess held her breath and slipped out of the backdoor. She looked over her shoulder towards the tattoo studio door, ready to bolt if it opened.
“Hey, watch it!”
The male voice caused her head to snap back around, and she realised she was a matter of inches away from Art. She’d almost walked right into him, focusing on the studio door instead of where she was going. She hadn’t considered that he might be coming from the other direction.
“O-oh,” she stuttered. “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
He frowned. “You’ve got a habit of doing that.”
“Sorry.” She looked down to see a full black bag in his hand.
He followed her line of sight. “I was just taking the rubbish out,” he said, moving past her to dump the bag into a black wheelie big. He turned back to her. “I haven’t seen you around for a few days. Is everything all right? I’m sorry if things ended up awkward between us because of...” He gestured back towards the staircase and Tess wished the ground would open up and swallow her.
She waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, no, not at all. I’ve just been really busy with... stuff.”
He pushed his hands into his pockets, his head down, foot scuffing the ground. Damn, why did he have to have such amazing forearms? Was it crazy to be attracted to someone because of their arms? He did have amazing arms. Her gaze tracked up to his biceps and then over his chest. That part was pretty damned nice too.
“Tess?”
She realised he’d been speaking and she’d been daydreaming about his arms. That was another thing she really needed to stop doing.
“Sorry, what?” Her blush deepened.
“I just said that I didn’t want you to think I’d been avoiding the conversation we’d started about the rent. I put some points together that I wanted you to take a look at. With your aunt being elderly, she hasn’t exactly looked after this place either. There’s old wiring, mould out the back, some of the slates are missing off the roof. I’d complained about things to the agent, but they didn’t do anything. I get where you’re coming from when you’re talking about bringing the rent up so it aligns with similar properties in the area, but I think it needs to be a two way thing. I’ve let a lot of stuff slide because I knew I was getting a good deal with the rent, but if that’s not going to be the case anymore, there needs to be a little extra from your side as well.”
She stared at him, thinking this was the most she’d heard him say since she’d met him, and he hadn’t even mentioned the sex on the stairs thing.
“Umm, yes, that sounds fair. You’ve obviously given it a lot more thought than me.”
“I’ve put some paperwork together, if you’ve got a minute. I can run you through it.”
He nodded back towards the shop.
“Of course.”
“Oh, but you look like you’re heading out somewhere.”
She shrugged. “Nowhere in particular. It just occurred to me that I’ve been in London for almost a week now, and I haven’t actually seen any of it.”
His blue eyes lit up. “You want to see London?”
“I’d like to.”
“I’m free. I can show you around.”
“Seriously?” She couldn’t help the incredulity in her voice.
It clearly wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting and his expression darkened. “Forget I said anything”
She reached out and caught his arm. Where their skin met, her fingertips aga
inst the strong muscles in his forearm, made her heart flutter. He had such an effect on her.
“Art, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just surprised. You’ve been avoiding me. We haven’t even spoken.”
“You’ve been avoiding me, you mean.”
She gave a little shrug. “I was embarrassed. You acted as though you’d made a huge mistake.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t feel that way at all.” His expression twisted, and her heart sank. “I mean, I guess I felt bad about the way it happened. We were fighting and then we were...”
“Fucking?”
His mouth tweaked in a smile. “Yeah, exactly. I wasn’t sure how we’d left things, and then I didn’t see you.”
“You could always have knocked on my door. You knew where I was.”
“Hey, you could have come down to me as well, but you didn’t.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Art, if a guy like you has sex with a girl like me, and then doesn’t attempt to contact her, she’s going to assume you’re not interested.”
His eyebrows lifted. “A guy like me?”
“Yeah.” She gestured to the tattoos running across his muscled arms. “A guy like you.”
“A guy who looks like he’s going to be trouble, you mean?”
“Trouble, and kind of hot. It’s not a safe combination.”
“Only kind of hot?” He chuckled. “Okay, well, let me make it up to you. What part of London do you want to see?”
Her stomach roiled, but excitement fluttered inside her. Was he offering to take her out? “I don’t know. I haven’t seen any of it.”
“Wait here one minute, I’ll just tell the guys where I’m going.”
“Don’t you have work to do?” She called after him, but he dismissed her with a wave of his hand and vanished through the door, back into the shop.
She waited awkwardly, until he reappeared holding two bike helmets, a grin on his face.
“You’re not making me go back on that thing, are you?”
“You loved it. Don’t lie.”
She hid a smile. “Okay, it was kind of fun. But don’t get me killed.”
He grinned, an expression she’d rarely seen on him, and something in her chest tightened. “Never.”
As she’d done a few days earlier, she climbed onto the bike behind him. This time, she felt more comfortable slipping her arms around his waist. The tension that had been between them had vanished with a few simple words, and she wished one of them had made the effort sooner. The last few days of angst might never have happened if only she’d swallowed her pride and confronted him. She wasn’t the only one at fault—Art could have spoken to her, too.
He rode the motorbike, skilfully manoeuvring it between the traffic. Where others were at a standstill, Art was able to weave through gaps. Had she ever felt so alive, sitting on the back of a bike, her arms wrapped around this sexy man? A twinge of guilt threatened to spoil the moment, but she pushed it away. She deserved this. She was allowed to be happy, she had to remember that.
She noted that they were heading into central London, and wondered where they were going. Finally, he stopped the bike down a side street, and they climbed off.
Tess looked around, not recognising anything. “Where are we going?” she asked him.
He caught up her hand and led her down the street, until they stepped out onto the main road and sparks of recognition fired inside her.
“This is Trafalgar Square!” she exclaimed, recognising the tall statue and the fountains. Tourists were everywhere, some sitting, eating snacks in the spring sunshine, pigeons milling at their feet, while others took photographs. “Is this where you wanted to bring me?”
“Not exactly. I’m taking you to the National Gallery. There’s an exhibition I wanna show you.”
His enthusiasm got her excited. An art gallery wouldn’t have been the first place she’d have chosen to visit, but she was curious to know what Art found to be so fascinating.
They approached the huge building, with its massive pillars, and trotted up the steps. Everyone looked at Art, fleeting glances, before their eyes darted away.
She reached into her purse to pay, but he shook his head. “This exhibition is free.”
“Great.”
They walked into the building and entered the Sainsbury Wing, where the exhibition was taking place. The atmosphere in the gallery was hushed, and she sensed the extra attention they were garnering with all Art’s tattoos, when most others were smartly dressed.
Framed artwork of all shapes and sizes, in numerous different mediums filled the walls. All of the art, no matter how old or new, all had one thing in common.
“This whole exhibition is in black and white,” Art said. “It’s called Monochrome. It’s the first major show on the subject.”
She glanced up at his face. “Did you study art at school?”
“Only up to A-level. I was sick of school by then. I did well, but I knew what I wanted to do. I was obsessed. I went to every tattoo shop in London and begged until someone took me on as an apprentice. That was ten years ago now. I learned my craft then started up on my own.”
“I love how you knew what you wanted to do with your life, even from that age. I’m twenty-five, and I still have no idea.”
“I don’t think that’s too unusual. You seem like a smart woman. You’ll figure it out.”
She smiled back at him. “Thanks.”
They walked further into the gallery, moving from one piece to the next.
“Why black and white,” she asked, “when there is so much colour in the world?”
He shrugged. “I don’t see it just as black and white. There are so many shades in between. It’s easy to create something beautiful when you can use every colour under the sun. I’d like to say that I saw working in black and white as more of a challenge, but that would be lying. I can’t explain it exactly. I don’t think I chose that medium, I kind of felt like it chose me.”
“I never took you as such a hippy.”
He nudged her in the side, playfully. “Careful, or I’ll start getting in touch with my feminine side.”
“Art, I don’t think you’ve got a feminine bone in your body.”
Chapter Eleven
Art loved being able to study Tess’s face as she absorbed the paintings and drawings hung on the walls of the gallery. He’d never done this with a woman—taken her somewhere that meant something to him. He didn’t know why this particular woman was affecting him in such a way, but she was. The last couple of days had been torture, wondering if he was going to see her. He’d been able to hear her moving around the flat upstairs, picturing exactly where she was and what she was doing by the sound and position of her footfalls. He’d wanted to go up and speak to her, but his male pride, and fear that she regretted what had happened between them had prevented him from doing so. A part of him still worried this was going to end up complicated. She was his landlady, plus she lived above the shop. If this all went wrong, things could get seriously awkward.
He knew all this, and yet he still hadn’t been able to stop himself from talking his way into getting her to spend the rest of the day with him. It had been easier to stay away when he’d not been able to see her, but the moment she’d been there, standing right in front of him, he hadn’t been able to stop himself.
Taking a risk, he reached to Tess, his hand bumping with hers. He was judging her reaction—whether or not she’d pull away. But she didn’t, so he went a step further, lacing his fingers between hers. Her hand was as tiny as the rest of her, and it was all he could do to stop himself from dragging her against him, and scooping her up. She was cute, and fiery, and she seemed interested in him, not just because he had muscles and tattoos, but genuinely interested in the person he was beneath it all. He’d only known one other woman who’d been like that, and she’d left him broken hearted many years ago. He’d made himself a promise he wouldn’t get involved with another woman, and yet here he wa
s breaking it.
“So what did you think?” he asked her, when they’d made it all the way around the exhibition.
“It was awesome. I honestly never knew it was possible to do so much in black and white.”
He suppressed a smile. “You thought it was boring, didn’t you?”
She smacked his arm. “No! Not boring. I loved that you love it.” She smiled and his heart tightened in his chest. “That was the best part for me.”
“Can I buy you a coffee?” he asked, wanting to drag out the length of their time together as much as possible.
Her face lit in a smile. “I think I can handle that.”
They took the stairs up to the next floor, where the café was advertised. It was quieter up here, most people ending their day’s sightseeing now, and heading back to their hotels.
They passed some conference rooms that appeared empty. Acting impulsively, Art grabbed her hand and pushed open one of the doors, jerking her inside.
“Art!”
He looked down into her eyes. “I couldn’t go another second without kissing you.”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer. Both of his hands cupped either side of her face, his fingers in her silky dark hair. His mouth crushed to hers, and she resisted for only a second before he felt her body relax against him and her arms slid around the back of his neck.
His need for her surged up inside him. Since he’d first got a taste of her, he hadn’t been able to concentrate on a single thing. Maybe another woman would have erased the thought of her from his head, but he hadn’t wanted that either.
He only wanted her.
She wore a cotton dress which just begged to be flipped up.
There was a massive boardroom-style table in the middle of the room. Blinds covered the windows, offering them privacy.
Reaching down, he hooked his hands behind her thighs and lifted her. Her calves wrapped around his hips, and with his mouth crushed to hers, he carried her over to the table. He placed her on the smooth, polished, dark wood, which he knew would be cool beneath her bare thighs.
Carved by Ink (London Inked Boys, #1) Page 5
