by Jessie Evans
Kitty had only had two margaritas, but her cheeks were flushed and her blue eyes a little glassy. But then, Kitty weighed about forty pounds less than Melody. Melody was a curvy girl, which wasn’t likely to change any time soon considering she spent most of her time, both at home and at work, experimenting with new recipes.
Cooking was her passion, and for a long time, it had been enough. But now…
“Do you think I need to lose weight?” Melody asked.
“No,” Kitty said with a snort. “You’re gorgeous. Every guy in the restaurant was staring at you when we walked out.”
“Really?” Melody hadn’t noticed, but lately she’d only been interested in Nick’s attention. Or lack thereof.
“Totally. I was invisible.” Kitty reached back, tightening her long brown ponytail with a firm yank.
Kitty was a tomboy who owned her own auto repair shop, and who Melody had rarely seen out of jeans and a t-shirt. Tonight was no exception. Still, Kitty managed to make dark wash jeans and a tight black t-shirt look edgy and cool. She had a tough, lean, sexy thing going on that made it hard for Melody to understand why, aside from Melody herself, Kitty was the only other girl from their high school graduating class not engaged or already married.
Hard to understand, but still, Melody was grateful not to be the odd girl out. She’d been in ten weddings since her eighteenth birthday and had just been asked to join her friend, Dinah’s, wedding party last week. At this rate, Melody would have a dozen bridesmaid dresses collecting dust in her parents’ garage by the time she was twenty-three.
A collection of bridesmaid dresses, but not even a hint that her own wedding would occur anytime in the near future. Melody’s dating life had been dismal lately, even before she started crushing on Nick. Every allegedly sweet boy her Nana set her up with proved to be more annoying, self-centered, and uninspiring than the last.
It was enough to make a girl want to give up the opposite sex altogether…if there wasn’t an irresistible bad boy in tight black jeans strutting around under her nose every day at work.
“I guess I should try a makeover or make-up or something,” Kitty said, giving her ponytail another frustrated yank.
“I think you’re hot the way you are, mama,” Melody said with a wink that made Kitty roll her eyes.
“And I think you’re drunk and falling out of your top,” Kitty said.
Melody glanced down, blinking in surprise at the amount of flesh showing above the V-neck of her purple dress. She had picked the dress for that exact reason, but it was still a little shocking to see so much of herself on display.
Shocking, and a little exciting, too.
It wasn’t just her attraction to a boy like Nick that had been different lately. She’d been feeling experimental, drawn to pushing the limits and bending the rules in a way she’d never been before. A part of her said it was just a risqué dress and not a big deal, but another part wondered what the heck was happening to her. How far would things go before she reverted to her old self?
“Tug that thing up and get out of there,” Kitty pressed. “Let’s go have coffee and doughnuts. Sober up. I shouldn’t drive right now.”
“Me either,” Melody said, wading to the edge of the fountain, enjoying the way the cool water swished between her toes.
Her high-heeled sandals had been killing her. It made her eager for the late September Indian summer heat to fade so she could pull out her comfy boots with the wool lining and slip back into her cozy fall sweaters and, hopefully, a less tumultuous state of mind.
She stepped out onto the sidewalk and slipped her damp feet into her sandals with a resigned sigh. “Where to? Donut Time Diner or Dippin Donuts?”
“Donut Time. Obviously,” Kitty said. “Having to dip my donut in coffee to make it taste good is a sacrilege.”
“Agreed,” Melody said, looping her arm through Kitty’s as they wandered down the street toward the older part of downtown Summerville.
The downtown area was quiet at eleven-thirty on a Thursday night, the only sound the click of Melody’s heels on the pavement and the muffled music pulsing from behind the thick, metal door of The Horse and Rider at the very end of Main Street.
The Horse and Rider was the only place—aside from Summerville’s many churches—to hear live music in the sleepy town. The bar also had a reputation for attracting a rough crowd after ten o’clock. Melody had only been old enough to get into a bar for a little over a year, but she’d never even thought about going to the town honky-honk.
Although she’d been a fan of live music since her sister, Aria, took her to an all-ages show in Atlanta when Melody was sixteen, Melody was a “nice girl” and nice girls didn’t go to places like The Horse and Rider.
Instead, as a nice girl, Melody spent at least one day a month volunteering at the retirement home—conducting baking classes for the sweet old ladies and gentlemen who had become her friends. She went to church at least once a week, she watched her language and did her best not to let a curse word slip her lips, and she still believed kindness was a human being’s highest priority on earth.
But for some reason, the throbbing beat pulsing from behind the honky-tonk’s door called to her in a way it hadn’t before…
She was about to ask Kitty if she wanted to duck into the bar for a look around before they headed to the diner, when Kitty stopped dead in the sidewalk and squeezed her arm.
“Melody, is that who I think it is?” she asked beneath her breath.
“Who?” Melody glanced around, but there was no one else on the sidewalk on either side of the street. “Where?” she asked.
“There, in that tattoo shop,” Kitty hissed.
Melody’s eyes widened as she took in the neon sign affixed to the brick edifice above the store. The shop had been a scrapbook supply store a year ago, then languished empty for several months after Scrap Happy went out of business. The Main Street area was a hopping place, but this end of the street was older and more faded looking than the fully refurbished buildings closer to the square. The landlord of this particular store always seemed to have a problem retaining renters. Every business that had opened, had closed within a year or so, and Melody doubted the newest tenants would do much better.
“A tattoo shop,” Melody said, laughter in her voice. “In downtown Summerville? What were they thinking?”
“Maybe he was thinking he’s tired of working as a part time cater-waiter. That’s Nick, right?” Kitty said, pointing.
Melody followed the direction of Kitty’s finger, peering into the window of the brightly lit shop. There, on a rolling stool, tattoo gun in hand, was none other than Nick Geary.
As always, his dark brown hair was carefully spiked, sprouting wildly around his head, but instead of a tray of champagne flutes, his magnetic green eyes were focused on the beefy forearm of a bald man in a Harley Davidson tee shirt. Melody’s tequila-dampened synapses flickered to life. She remembered Nick saying that he used to work in a tattoo parlor in Atlanta, but she’d had no idea he was planning to open a shop in Summerville.
She suddenly wished a long, happy life to this tattoo parlor. Nick was even more handsome with that look of complete concentration on his face. Melody watched as he deftly guided the buzzing needle across the man’s skin with an assurance that spoke of his confidence in his craft. The muscles in his arms flexed deliciously as he worked, drawing attention to the tattoos trailing from beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt, and making Melody’s breath come faster even before Kitty said—
“We should go in and say hi.”
Melody froze, anxiety flooding through her. Nick was the first man who had ever been immune to her attempts at flirtation. Every time she saw him she felt like she was in one of those dreams where it was opening night of the school play and she didn’t have a single line memorized.
She had only dated a handful of boys during high school, culinary school, and the years after, but her affection had always been requited, each boy as smitten
with her as she’d been with him. Her crushes had always crushed back.
Until now.
Nick Geary was oblivious to her charms, which naturally only made her want to capture his attention all the more.
“What would we say?” Melody asked, biting her lip.
Kitty shrugged. “Hi? What’s up? When did you open the shop? Why don’t you want to have wild, passionate sex with my best friend?”
Melody gripped Kitty’s arm tighter. “If you say that, I will kill you dead.”
“See, you never would have said something like that before,” Kitty said, chuckling. “This crush is affecting you in strange and mysterious ways.”
“I’m sorry,” Melody said, immediately feeling terrible. “Are you mad?”
“Of course not. Don’t be silly.” Kitty rolled her eyes. “I like the wilder Melody. She’s more fun to go drinking with.”
Kitty pulled her toward the door. “Come on, let’s go in. I’ll say I’m thinking about getting a tattoo. I want to meet this boy who’s too dumb to see how awesome you are.”
Melody smiled. “You are the best friend ever.”
“I am,” Kitty said, then added in a whisper, “Just let me do the talking and act surprised to see Mr. Hottie.”
Melody nodded, keeping her eyes on the wild, tattoo-inspired art tacked to the walls as they stepped inside the store, setting off a tinkling bell that was barely audible over the punk music pumping through the speakers.
Still, Nick seemed to have heard the jingle.
“Be with you in just a second,” he called over his shoulder, shouting to be heard over the buzzing of the tattoo gun. “Feel free to look through the books.”
“Cool, thanks,” Kitty answered, winking at Melody before stepping up to the wooden counter where several binders filled with laminated pages of tattoo designs sat next to a thicker binder with “Nick’s work” written in permanent marker on the cover.
With a quick glance at Nick to make sure he hadn’t seen her, Melody reached for the last binder and flipped it open. Inside was page after page of gorgeously drawn and executed tattoos. Aria had mentioned that her new husband, Nash, the town Captain of Police and Nick’s oldest brother, was a talented artist. Melody decided it must run in the family, because Nick’s work was breathtaking.
He had done a wide variety of things, but seemed to specialize in animals. The feathers on his birds were extraordinary and the muscles on his tigers and panthers seemed to ripple with life, even in a still picture. But it was the phoenix on the last page that really caught Melody’s attention. Nick had used vibrant colors to capture every exotic detail of the mythical creature—vibrant turquoise for the scaled patches of skin, lush purples and greens for the feathers, and orange so bright it looked like he’d dipped his needle in liquid sunshine for the flames. The expression on the phoenix’s face was equally gorgeous, somehow managing to be pained and hopeful, all at the same time.
The image touched things inside of Melody that she had never imagined a tattoo could. It was a beautiful work of art, and suddenly she wondered why she’d always thought tattoos were tacky. Nick’s work certainly wasn’t.
“Melody?”
Nick’s voice pierced Melody’s thoughts, making her aware that the buzzing of the tattoo gun had stopped. She glanced up, meeting his bright green eyes, and doing her best not to shiver as a current of electricity leapt between them.
He wasn’t looking at her like a baby sister tonight. He looked startled, but clearly interested, and Melody was suddenly very glad that she had decided to wear a scandalous dress.
“Nick, is this your place?” Melody asked, feigning surprise to see him.
“Yeah. Mine, and a buddy of mine. We just opened up last week,” Nick said, lifting a hand to the man in the Harley shirt as he left. “See you next week, Frank. We’ll get the color finished up in one or two more sessions.”
“Catch you then,” Frank said.
The door tinkled as the man stepped out onto the sidewalk and Nick turned back to Melody, leaning over the counter, close enough that she caught a whiff of his signature smell, that campfire and sage with a faint overtone of motor oil scent that always clung to him, hinting at manly activities of various sorts. The one that made her want to strip off his shirt, press her nose to his bare skin and breath deep.
“Congratulations,” Melody said, heart beating faster as she prayed her thoughts weren’t showing on her face. “That’s great that you’ve opened your own business.”
“Thanks. We’ll see if we can stay open long enough to get into the black.” Nick smiled a shy smile she’d never seen before, a smile that made Melody’s heart do a swan dive into her stomach and her fingertips ache to touch the dimples popping on his cheeks.
“So what’s up?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in Melody’s direction. “You’re not thinking about getting a tattoo, are you?”
“I am, actually,” Kitty interrupted. “I’m Kitty.” She held out her hand.
“Sorry, I should have introduced you,” Melody said, blushing with embarrassment as she turned to do the introductions. “Nick, this is Kitty, my best friend since third grade. Kitty, Nick, a friend of mine from work.”
Nick took Kitty’s hand and shook it, his grin morphing into its usual wicked twist of his lips. “Nice to meet you, Kitty,” he said. “For a second there I thought I was going to have to call Melody’s big sister.”
“Why’s that?” Kitty asked, smiling up at Nick with a look of obvious appreciation, a look Melody wasn’t so sure she enjoyed seeing on her best friend’s face.
“She’s Melody.” Nick shrugged, as if that said it all.
Melody felt her blood begin to heat in a way that had nothing to do with attraction.
“If she’d come in here looking for a tattoo,” Nick continued, “I would have assumed she was either drunk or experiencing some kind of psychotic break.”
He laughed and Kitty, the traitor, had the nerve to join in.
“Either way, I’d have to call Lark,” Nick said. “John and I are barely breaking even with the shop. I’m going to need my catering job for a while, and Lark would fire me in a hot second if I inked her baby sister.”
“Lark would not fire you for giving me a tattoo,” Melody protested.
“You don’t think?” Nick asked in a patronizing tone.
“No, I don’t think,” Melody repeated, though she actually wasn’t sure what her big sister would do if Melody came home with a tattoo.
Lark would be surprised, that’s for sure. Aria, the eldest March sister, had always been the wild child of the family, and even she was tattoo-free. Melody was the sweet, positive, peacemaker of the family. The girl most likely to wear pink chiffon and kitten heels, not red retro pin-up dresses and five inch stilettos like the heavily tattooed girl in the poster tacked onto the wall next to Nick’s tattoo station.
A tattoo would be a significant departure from the norm for Melody, a bold step in a different direction. The thought made her nerve-endings sizzle.
A second later, her decision was made.
“Lark isn’t my mother,” she said, lifting her nose into the air. “Even if she were, I’m twenty-two, and old enough to make my own decisions, and I’ve decided I want to get my first tattoo. Tonight.”
Nick’s eyebrows shot up and Kitty made a surprised noise, but Melody didn’t turn to look at her friend, worried she might lose her courage if she met the eyes of someone who had known her her entire, wholesome, straight-laced life.
“You do?” Nick asked, disbelief thick in his tone.
“Yes, I do.” Melody smiled and pointed to the phoenix. “I’d like to get a smaller version of this.”
Nick glanced down at the phoenix and his eyes widened. “Even a small version of that is going to be huge. There’s no way you’d be able to hide it.”
“Why would I want to hide it? Aren’t you going to do a good job?” Melody asked, ignoring the hesitation prickling the back of her neck.
“I’d do an excellent job,” Nick said after a moment. “If I thought this was something you really wanted.”
“Who are you to tell me what I want?” Melody asked, arching one brow.
Awareness leapt between them again and Melody watched with satisfaction as Nick’s gaze darkened with something that looked a whole lot like desire. In that second, Melody was positive he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Heck, if Kitty weren’t standing right next to them, Melody could almost imagine Nick leaping over the counter, taking her in his arms, and kissing her senseless right there in the front of the shop.
Instead, he said. “I’m not trying to tell you what you want. I just know this isn’t like you.”
“It really isn’t, Melody,” Kitty said in a gentle voice. “Why don’t we go have some donuts and think about this for a while? We have been drinking, so maybe—”
“Then I can’t work on either of you tonight,” Nick said, his relief obvious in the way his muscled shoulders relaxed away from his neck. “It’s against state law to work on people under the influence. Even if it weren’t, John and I don’t work on people who’ve been drinking. It makes you bleed more and can force the pigment out of the skin before it sets. Bad for your tattoo, bad for our reputation.”
Melody nodded, surprised by how disappointed she felt. “All right,” she said, forcing a smile. “Guess we’ll have to come back some other time, then.”
“Or don’t,” Nick said, banishing the smile from Melody’s face. His voice was kind enough, but the words still cut. “I really don’t want to work on you, Melody. I’m sorry, but it just wouldn’t feel right.”
