by Ranae Rose
“A tattoo studio and an MMA promotion company – how do you always find the cool jobs?” he asked. “My last gig was in a factory. Lame.”
She laughed. “You’re an MMA fighter, Paul. I’m pretty sure most people would say that’s a lot cooler than being Elite East’s part-time receptionist.”
He shrugged, grinning. “Hey, you get to be a part of what’s happening, and you don’t have to get punched in the face. Sounds pretty cool to me.”
“Maybe you should turn in your gloves then and see if Elite East has any other desk job openings.”
He pretended to consider it for a moment. “Nah. I don’t think I could pull off the whole pencil skirt look. Besides, I don’t mind getting hit, so long as I can hit back.” He shadowboxed for a few seconds, obviously in a better mood than Zoe had seen him in in a while. “And I want that twenty-five thousand dollar prize.”
“I’ll be there cheering for you. By the way, I have some good news about dad…”
* * * * *
Noah didn’t bring fancy chocolates to work on Monday. He did, however, make it a point to show up a few minutes before nine, the time when Zoe’s shift would start. He’d swung by the day before and dropped off a few things – filing cabinets, mostly, and a couple boxes of paperwork that were in serious need of organization. Little by little, the place was starting to look more like an office.
Zoe arrived at nine o’clock sharp, dressed this time in black pants instead of a skirt. He missed her first day outfit, but couldn’t deny that she still looked amazing. The three-quarter sleeved blouse she’d chosen let the floral tattoo on her forearm show, and he caught himself staring as she draped her coat over her chair.
“Filing cabinets,” she said. “Just like you promised.”
“Yeah. And a bunch of paperwork ready to be filed away. I hope you’re ready for a couple hours of boredom.”
She smiled. “Hey, it’s what I signed up for. I have to admit though, I’m a little disappointed that you forgot about the candy dish.”
“What? Oh.” He eyed the surface of her desk, which was bare except for the laptop, phone, a new printer, a blank pad of Post-it notes and a few pens. “I guess I did say I’d pick one of those up, didn’t I?”
“If you don’t, I’ll bring one in,” she said. “I’ve always thought it would be nice to be the receptionist who hands out candy. I don’t do that at Hot Ink – Jed has a rule about food in the shop and he takes it very seriously.”
“So where do you eat then, when you’re on break?”
“The roof.” She met his eyes and grinned.
He must’ve looked taken aback.
“Only sometimes,” she said. “When the weather’s nice. Normally we just eat out, or head upstairs to the apartment above if we want. Jed lets us eat in the kitchen up there. It’s pretty convenient, actually, since there’s a microwave and a fridge and everything.”
“Right, a microwave. And a fridge. I’ll add those to the never-ending list of things we could use around here.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think I could get used to surviving off of truffles and coffee. After all, my shifts here are only a few hours long.”
A pang of satisfaction hit him as he thought back to Saturday. It was the closest thing to a date they’d had since their one and only dinner together. He’d invited her to eat with him again on Sunday, but she’d claimed that after her shift at Hot Ink, she was scheduled to have dinner with her father that day. So he’d grabbed a Primanti Brothers cheesesteak sandwich on his own that evening and had eaten it in his apartment, all the while fantasizing about her in her pencil skirt and black pumps, an image he still couldn’t get out of his head.
“Sorry I couldn’t do dinner yesterday,” she said, as if she’d read his mind. “You know, I’d love a rain check.”
She blushed. Her fair skin showed the least little hint of color – another fact he couldn’t stop thinking about. How far, exactly, did the blush extend below her collarbones, which were barely visible above her top’s neckline? “How about tonight?”
“Okay. I’m not working at Hot Ink today, so tonight would be great, actually.”
He had to suppress a big grin as visions of another tasty but lonely cheesesteak dinner flew out the window. “You want me to pick you up at your place this evening, then?”
She seemed to hesitate as she lifted the lid off a box of paperwork. “You sure? I don’t want you to get lost.”
“I can handle it – I’ll give myself some extra time to get there. Then, if I arrive early, I’ll just sit outside in front of your house like an idiot for a while.”
“It’s a date, then.”
He left her to do her job – the hardest thing he’d done all day. No, all week, and that included resisting the urge to look up her skirt on Saturday.
CHAPTER 4
Dinner was a slow, sweet sort of torment. Noah looked just as sexy in a button-up shirt – sleeves pushed up, front not quite buttoned all the way – and jeans as he had in a suit. Wondering how their second official date would end – and where, exactly, they were headed together – was like fantasizing about skipping straight ahead to dessert, dinner be damned.
“So you’ve always lived in Pittsburgh?” Noah asked from across the table, his eyes lingering on hers, reflecting an intensity that belied the casual tone of his voice.
“Yes.” Briefly, her thoughts flashed a half hour into the past, to when Noah had picked her up at her shabby-ish townhouse. “I’ve moved around some, but always within the city.”
Lately, trying to find – and keep – an affordable residence felt like an uphill battle. Zoe, Paul and Britney had only been living in their current townhouse for eighteen months, and already, their landlord had raised the rent twice since their original year-long lease had expired. If it got any higher, there wouldn’t be any way around it – they’d have to look for another home.
It was the second place they’d rented together since they’d placed their father in Azalea Hall two years ago.
“And you like it here?” Noah ran his fingers up the stem of his wine glass – he’d ordered a sweet red for them both – and a frisson zipped down Zoe’s spine as she imagined what it would feel like to have him touch her that way, fingertips lightly brushing her skin, almost massaging.
“Yes. It’s home. Probably always will be, for me. What about you – do you think you’ll like it here?”
So far, things had progressed unconventionally between Zoe and Noah, to say the least. One minute he’d been a sexy stranger coming in for some ink, then he’d been her date, then her boss, and her date again… There was something comforting about making small talk, like people did when they were just getting to know each other. It made the occasion feel distinctly date-like. Then again, so did the look in his eyes.
Her heart sped every time she let her gaze linger on his face, and she felt … wanted. It was nice to have a dinner table between them instead of a counter or a desk.
“Yeah, I think I’m going to like it. The place is growing on me already, now that I’m finally getting my bearings. Didn’t cross one wrong bridge today.” He smiled, sensual lips quirking up on one side, appealingly lopsided. “I could see myself settling down here. My work will eventually mean traveling, of course, but I want a place I can come back to every time – a home.”
Her pulse quickened a little more. A place, huh? What about a person? Home and hearth were important, but so was having someone to return to, to be there for you. Zoe had her family. Who did Noah have, now that he’d relocated? She let her thoughts drift in that direction, wondering if this might just be the start of something serious.
“Well,” she replied, purposely keeping her voice light, “I hope you like the idea of settling down here – you headquartered your business here, after all.”
“That I did.” He shifted in his seat a little, raising his wine glass to his lips. As he took a slow sip, the muscles in his throat rippled, drawing her gaze down to the notch
of his shirt collar, where his skin – heavily inked and hard not to stare at – peeked out.
Funny, she hadn’t imagined him being heavily tattooed, but if the dark ink swirling all the way up to his collarbones was any indication, he had a chest full of art. And his arms … his shirtsleeves were pushed up almost to his elbows, revealing full tattoo sleeves. He’d been hiding a lot beneath that suit and tie, and she had a feeling she wasn’t seeing the half of it, even now.
She shifted in her seat too, and the resulting friction warmed her a little more in a place where she was already hot. Yes, Noah inspired a definite heat between her thighs. How had a man so sexy made it to thirty-ish and remained single?
It boggled the mind, and as she took a sip of her own wine, she counted herself lucky that she’d been behind the counter at Hot Ink when he’d walked in. Sure, lots of guys came in and out of the shop, some of them undeniably appealing, but Noah took the cake when it came to sexy clients. Being invited to dinner by him had jumpstarted her heart in a way no other client ever had, even the ones who’d flirted with her or asked her out, as occasionally happened.
When a waitress stopped by the table and asked if they’d like their wine glasses refilled, Zoe was surprised to find hers nearly empty. How many minutes, exactly, had slipped by as she’d sipped wine and blatantly admired Noah?
With a fresh serving of red at hand, she forced herself to stop staring at the V of ink exposed by his shirt collar and meet his eyes instead. “So, my brother’s really excited about the Elite East Championship Tournament,” she said, forcing herself back on track with small talk. “If he’s any indication, I’d say that local martial artists are going to be tripping over themselves to register.”
One of Noah’s eyebrows flew upward. “Your brother’s a fighter?”
Zoe nodded. “You, uh, met him briefly today…” Paul had “escorted” her out to the street – nearly all the way to Noah’s car – despite her protests, when Noah had picked her up.
Paul had claimed to want a look at Noah so he knew who to kill if anything happened to Zoe. She hadn’t mentioned that particular fact to Noah. Paul was harmless … well, as harmless as a trained MMA fighter could be. He just couldn’t resist the overprotective big brother act, especially now that their father wasn’t around to glare in the general direction of her dates.
“The one who looked like you, only without the ability to smile,” Noah said.
“I guess you could say he looks like me.” They had the same dark hair and eyes, though beyond that, she’d never seen a huge resemblance. “And he’s perfectly capable of smiling – he’s just suspicious of any new boyfriend of mine at first, that’s all.”
Immediately, she bit down on her tongue, but it was too late. Boyfriend? She and Noah had just met. She hadn’t meant to make it sound that way, but the word had just sort of slipped out. Great – now he’d think she was taking things too seriously, too fast.
If he thought she’d jumped the gun, he didn’t let it show. “Guess I can’t blame him for wanting to keep his little sister safe. And you said he’s a fighter?”
She nodded, rattling off the name of the local gym he trained at. “He’s been obsessed with martial arts since he was a kid. I think he wanted to try fighting professionally a few years ago, but our mom got sick and he got a day job to help support the family instead. He still trained and competed some on the side, but lately he’s been doing it for a living.” She shrugged, remembering that he’d seen their townhouse and cars and had to know they weren’t exactly living in the lap of luxury. “Well, it’s not much of a living, or an easy one, really, but he loves it. He teaches some Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes on the side, too.”
Noah smiled. “I had no idea you were involved in the sport when I hired you. You should’ve mentioned it.”
“Well, I’m not involved, exactly,” Zoe said, stifling a groan as she remembered the occasions on which Paul had insisted on giving her “self-defense” lessons. She’d done her best to learn the simple strikes he’d shown her, but she hadn’t demonstrated much proficiency for hand-to-hand combat. In the end, Paul had bought her a pepper spray keychain and urged her to keep it in her purse. “I watch my brother fight sometimes; that’s all.”
“And you’ll be watching him compete in the Elite East Championship Tournament soon?”
“Yeah. He’s planning to sign up for the opening rounds this week, as soon as registration begins.” His excitement had practically been palpable over the past 48 hours, ever since he’d found out about the tournament.
“Cool. So do you—”
Zoe’s phone went off, loud enough to be heard from the depths of her purse.
“Sorry,” she said, unzipping her handbag and taking a peek at the screen. “That’s my brother right now. He doesn’t usually call me for no reason. I’m going to see what he wants, if that’s all right with you.”
“Go ahead.”
Zoe swiped her finger across the screen. “Hey, Paul. What is it?” He’d better not be calling just to check up on her during her date. Not that he normally did that, but if he felt the need to “escort” her out to the street, who knew what he was thinking?
“Zoe. Hey, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“Like what?”
“On your way home tonight, could you swing by a home improvement store or something and pick up a bucket? A big one. At least five gallons.”
“Okay… Why?” Had Paul finally gotten tired of waiting for their landlord to fix the various problems around their place and decided to go on some sort of handyman spree?
“Well,” Paul said, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s raining.”
Zoe glanced toward the nearest window. Paul was right, though she’d been too absorbed in her date with Noah to notice, up until then. “Looks like it’s coming down pretty hard.”
“Yeah. Well, the roof isn’t exactly taking it very well. There’s a leak in your bedroom. And by a leak, I mean a small waterfall, basically.”
Zoe’s stomach lurched. “Where, exactly?”
“You know that brown spot on the ceiling above your bed?”
“Yes.” Zoe barely resisted the urge to groan.
“It’s not a spot anymore so much as a hole. Your sheets are covered in soggy plaster and water. The door was halfway shut and I didn’t notice the leak ‘till I was walking by on my way outta the shower… I’ve been catching the rain with the biggest mixing bowl I could find, but I keep having to empty it out into the bathroom sink. I need something bigger. I’d ask Britney, but she’s teaching late tonight and I can’t get ahold of her while she’s in the middle of a class anyway.”
The wine sitting in Zoe’s stomach went from warm and comforting to acidic as she imagined Paul trudging back and forth from her bedroom to the bathroom as the crappy roof released a deluge of dirty water above her bed. “I’ll pick up a bucket,” she promised. “Meanwhile, do you think you could move my bed?”
“I’ll do my best, but there’s not much room in here. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get it completely out from under the leak.”
Zoe sighed. “Okay. Thanks… I’ll be home soon.”
By the time Zoe ended the call, Noah was staring across the table with an unmistakable look of concern. “Something wrong?”
“According to Paul, our roof isn’t taking the rain very well. There’s a big leak at our place, in my bedroom. He needs me to pick up a bucket to catch the water.”
Noah frowned. “That sucks. Do we need to leave now?” He shifted in his seat, like he was about to stand up.
Heat rushed into Zoe’s cheeks and she knew that the wine she’d had would only make her blush worse. She held his gaze anyway, trying not to think of his nice suits or his thoroughly middle class car. He was no millionaire tycoon, but there was no question that if one of them fell slightly on the wrong side of the tracks, it was her. They might be united by a mutual attraction and a penchant for ink, but their lives were diffe
rent, and she felt every inch of the gap between them as she stared across the table.
“We don’t have to leave this very second,” she said, “though I’d feel bad staying for dessert. My brother’s at home alone trying to keep my room from flooding.”
“We can pick up some dessert if you want,” he offered. “Ice cream. Truffles?”
She smiled at the mention of truffles despite herself. Pick up dessert and take it where, exactly? Her soggy townhouse, presumably, but if it hadn’t been for Paul’s dilemma…
Butterflies burst into flight in her stomach, hardly mired down by the wine, and a little voice in the back of her head wondered what Noah would’ve said if she’d suggested that they pick up something – anything – like that and head to his place. After all, she had Paul and Britney at home, and surely his new residence could use a little … housewarming.
But it was just a fantasy. No way could she sentence Paul to several more hours of hauling bowls of water from her room to the sink. And if she was going to lay eyes – and hands – on all Noah’s ink, she certainly wanted to be able to take her sweet time. Plus, there was the little fact that he was her boss now. Moving too fast and making things weird between them would be foolish. “There’s a café right next door. Why don’t we compromise and grab some coffee on our way out of here?”
“Sounds good to me.”
He flagged down the waitress and insisted on paying the check. At first, that made Zoe blush as she recalled voicing her financial woes. Or hinting at them, at least. Then she remembered that he’d done the same thing on their first date. He was probably one of those guys who always insisted on paying. She was just … nervous. Lately, the separate sectors of her life seemed to be tangling in every way imaginable, and sometimes, it was as disconcerting as it was thrilling.
As they left the restaurant, he took her hand, and as they entered the café, she felt almost giddy. The fact that they ordered coffees so full of sugar and flavored syrup that they counted as dessert helped, too. With the light wine fog gone from her mind and her nerves sparking with the combined caffeine and sugar rush, she couldn’t help but smile when they stopped by his car and his eyes met hers.
