Hot to the Touch

Home > Romance > Hot to the Touch > Page 18
Hot to the Touch Page 18

by Jaci Burton


  Time for breakfast.

  CHAPTER 19

  It was her first day at her new shop and Becks was equal parts nervous and excited.

  Aria had turned out to be a dream. She’d shown up twenty minutes earlier than expected, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail, a small amount of makeup and lip gloss on. She wore clean black capris and a coral-colored T-shirt, along with black tennis shoes. She looked freaking adorable.

  At first Becks showed Aria around the shop so she’d know where everything was located and so Aria would feel comfortable with her surroundings. Then she acquainted Aria with her desk.

  “This is my desk?” Aria asked.

  “Of course.”

  Aria smoothed her hands over the surface, staring at all the workspace, and at the laptop computer sitting there before looking up at Becks, her eyes wide with wonder. “It’s so big. And a laptop, too. Wow.”

  “All yours, girl.” Though it was an older-model refurbished laptop, she understood Aria’s excitement. When you had nothing, everything was a thrill. Becks had been in her shoes before.

  And then it was Becks’s turn to be surprised. Aria knew computers like nobody’s business, so acclimating her to Becks’s inventory and appointment systems had been much easier than she’d thought it would be.

  She assumed she’d have to spend the entire day with her, but within an hour, Aria had learned the entire system.

  She was so damn smart.

  “Okay, I have your employee paperwork organized in these folders.” Aria came into the room Becks had set up as her workspace and handed her the folders. “Employment applications and all the required government forms.”

  “Perfect. Thanks.”

  “Your apprentice applicant Hwan is coming in at one thirty. And you said your potential new tattoo guy Martin will be here at four, right?”

  “Right.”

  She had put feelers out with several of her tattoo peers, letting them know she was looking for an apprentice. One of her friends told her someone had approached him, so he forwarded her the guy’s info. Don was an amazing tattoo artist, and he knew of a kid just out of art school who wanted to learn the tattoo business. Don spoke highly of this guy and said his art portfolio was impressive, but since Don was already mentoring someone he didn’t have the time to take on anyone new.

  She was looking forward to talking with Hwan. If Don recommended him, hopefully he was going to be good.

  She wanted to get herself settled in and to work with Aria before Hwan’s arrival because once he showed up she’d be busy. Now that she knew Aria could work independently, she wouldn’t have to worry.

  She picked up her phone and realized it was twelve thirty. “Hey, Aria.”

  Aria peeked her head in the doorway. “Yeah?”

  “You hungry?”

  “Um, I guess.”

  Becks dug into her backpack and pulled out a twenty from her wallet. “There’s a sandwich shop around the corner. I’ll take a turkey wrap with spinach, tomato and raspberry vinaigrette. And a large iced tea. Get yourself whatever you want.”

  “I can pay for my own lunch.”

  She’d wager Aria didn’t have extra money for lunch but was too proud to say so. And the last thing she wanted to do was insult her. “When you get your first paycheck here, you can buy lunch. Tomorrow I’ll bring us a salad. How’s that sound?”

  Aria nodded. “Sounds great. I’ll be right back.”

  Becks made a mental note to bring dinner the rest of the week, and to make sure it was something shareable so Aria wouldn’t feel bad about Becks buying food for them.

  While Aria was gone, Becks answered the phone and made an appointment for a consultation on a tattoo for three o’clock Friday afternoon. She made a note in the master schedule, which would transfer into Becks’s phone schedule as well.

  Aria returned shortly with lunch, so they sat at her desk and ate. The turkey sandwich was amazing. She noticed Aria had gotten the same thing.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  Aria lifted her head. “About what?”

  “The turkey sandwich.”

  “Oh. It’s really good. Thank you for lunch, by the way.”

  “You’re welcome. Oh, and while you were gone, someone called and booked a consult for Friday afternoon at three. I entered it in the scheduler.”

  “Okay. Looks like you’re going to be busy this week.”

  “Yeah. I can’t wait.”

  Aria took a bite of her wrap, chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. “How long have you been doing this?”

  “Tattooing?” Becks took a deep breath, then let it out. “In my head it seems like forever. But in reality, six years.”

  “Really? So not very long.”

  “No. I’ve been drawing as long as I can remember. Even when I was homeless, if I could get hold of a pencil and paper, I’d draw.”

  Aria swiveled in her chair. “Yeah? What would you draw?”

  “Anything that looked interesting to me. Leaves, trees, clouds, buildings, people, a rock I’d see on the ground, a French fry.”

  Aria laughed. “A French fry?”

  “Yeah. It was a unique shape so I drew it. And when I had the chance to go to school and had access to more paper and colored pencils or any kind of drawing or painting medium, I was in heaven.”

  “So you didn’t hate being fostered.”

  “Mmm, sometimes. My last foster family, the place I stayed before I aged out, they were good people. I went to decent schools and my family made sure I had sketchbooks and pencils to draw with. I was happy there.”

  “And then you aged out and got kicked out.”

  “Yeah. Well, you know how it is.”

  She rolled up the paper from her sandwich. “Yeah, I know how it is. But we’re luckier than some. We got educated and we’re smart and we know how to survive on the streets.”

  “You won’t always be on the streets, Aria. You have goals and ambition.”

  Aria gathered up all the trash from their lunch and stood, smiling down at Becks. “And a job, thanks to you.”

  The day flew by. She had her appointment with the apprentice applicant. Hwan’s portfolio was really good, and she had a great connection with him. He was intelligent and eager and friendly. Friendly was important for tattoo artists. You couldn’t make it in this business if you were an introvert. Aria liked him as well.

  Becks told him she’d let him know. She’d heard of a couple of other artists eager to be mentored so she wanted to talk to them as well, and she told that to Hwan. She’d likely get them in this week if she could and make a decision soon.

  Mentoring took a long time and it was a serious commitment. She wanted to make sure to get the right person. It might even take more than one interview. She had to be sure before she invested time and resources into someone. But she also didn’t want to leap on the first person she met. Not until she talked to a couple of others.

  “Hey, Becks?” Aria stood in the doorway to Becks’s work room.

  She looked up from her sketchbook. “Yeah?”

  “Jackson’s here, your friend that was with you at the park.”

  Frowning, Becks got up and went to the waiting room.

  Jackson looked cool and incredibly sexy in his black board shorts and white sleeveless shirt.

  “Hey,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  He came over and slipped his arm around her waist and tugged her close for a soft but sadly quick kiss, before stepping back. “I wanted to thank you for making breakfast for us.”

  “Looked like a wicked fire.”

  “It was. All three of us face-planted as soon as we got home. But we ate the casserole first. It was appreciated more than you know.”

  She wanted to step into his arms, to touch him, but for some reas
on it didn’t feel right with Aria standing there gawking at them. “You’re welcome. Everything go okay at work?”

  “For the most part.”

  He didn’t elaborate. It was obvious that there was more, but since he didn’t offer, she didn’t pry. And then he turned and smiled at Aria.

  “How’s the first day going, Aria?”

  “Pretty good.”

  “She’s just being modest,” Becks said. “She’s already taken over the computer systems and organized the inventory better than I ever could.”

  Aria rolled her eyes. “Speaking of inventory, I’m going to go get started on that and make a list of things you might need to get.”

  Aria headed toward the back, leaving Becks alone with Jackson, which meant she had a minute to run her hand up his extremely chiseled arm.

  “Tired?” she asked.

  “I got a few hours’ sleep, so I’m good.”

  “I’m glad. Thanks for coming by, but you didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to see you.” He looked down the hall, then put his hands on her hips and drew her close. “I needed to see you.”

  She wrapped a hand around his neck. “Breakfast was that good, huh?”

  “Actually, it was more than breakfast. After we visited at the park, I talked to my mom.”

  She paused, then cocked her head to the side. “About?”

  “Lexie.”

  She dropped her hand. “Oh. What about her?”

  “You’re close to her. And I know you want better for her. So I was chatting with my mom and she knows this couple that has four kids that range in age from ten to fourteen. They’ve adopted all of them and are looking to add more within that age range.”

  “Lexie’s twelve.”

  “Yeah. Mom said she’d love to talk to Lexie if you think she’d want to get out of the park. My mom said these are decent people, Becks.”

  Her heart started pounding. “You trust her judgement, obviously.”

  “One hundred percent.”

  She was almost afraid to breathe. The idea of a forever home for Lexie was almost too much to hope for. “I’ll talk to Lexie, and arrange a meeting with your mom.”

  “Okay.”

  She reached out and grabbed his arm. “Jackson. Thank you for doing this. You have no idea what this means to me. What it’ll mean for Lexie.”

  “Actually, I know exactly what it means.”

  Of course he did. And that he thought about her—about Lexie—was almost too much for her heart.

  He cleared his throat. “Anyway, no big deal or anything.”

  “Huge deal.” She squeezed his hand so tight she figured she was probably breaking bones.

  He grinned, then leaned in to kiss her, and for a moment she forgot all about where she was, who was there. She might have even forgot her own name, because she was lost in the sensation of soft lips, the gentle scrape of beard stubble against her chin and wishing they were alone so they could do more than kiss. Because his body rubbing against hers made her feel hot and tingly all over, and she wanted to explore him with her hands and her teeth and rub her breasts against his naked chest.

  Unfortunately, they weren’t alone and she had a rather large picture window about three feet from where they stood. So she had to pull some awareness to her sex-fogged brain.

  She took a step back and cleared her throat. “Are you going to be around later?”

  “Yeah. What time are you planning to be home?”

  “I have an interview with my new tattoo artist this afternoon. Then we’ll wrap things up around here. I should be home by six.”

  “I’ll make sure I’m home by six.”

  She smiled. “See you then.”

  “Okay.” He started toward the door. “Later, Becks.”

  She walked with him. “Bye, Jackson. And thanks again.”

  She closed the door behind him, lingering to watch him climb into his truck. He definitely looked good in that sleeveless muscle shirt.

  “You’ve got it bad for him.”

  She whirled around to see that Aria had planted herself back at her desk. She’d been so wrapped up in ogling Jackson that she hadn’t even heard Aria come back into the room.

  She lifted her chin.

  “I do not. We’re just . . . casual.”

  Aria arched a brow. “Casually setting the office on fire, you mean.”

  Becks frowned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She heard Aria laugh as she started back into her office.

  It was casual. Totally casual. But Aria was right about one thing. It was totally hot, too.

  She went back to work with a satisfied smile on her face.

  CHAPTER 20

  Since Becks was always doing things for him and his brothers, Jackson figured he’d do something nice for her today.

  He stopped at the store on his way home and bought a few things. She’d made them breakfast. He was going to make her dinner tonight.

  When he got home, Rafe and Kal were nowhere to be found.

  Good. He hoped that he and Becks would have the place to themselves.

  His phone buzzed. It was Rafe.

  “Hey, what’s up, Rafe?”

  “Just gonna ask you the same question. Where are you?”

  “At home.”

  “Kal and I are heading to the store to fill up the fridge. Want anything?”

  “No, I was just at the store, but thanks.”

  “Okay. We invited some people over for barbecue and a swim tonight. You game?”

  Well, shit. They shared the house, so it wasn’t like he could say no. “Actually, I bought stuff to toss on the grill, too.”

  “Yeah? What do you have in mind? We’ll just get extra.”

  He gave his menu items to Rafe, then hung up.

  So much for being alone with Becks. He knew she wouldn’t mind, but he was damned disappointed.

  He made the marinade, making sure to mix up extra. Then he sliced up the chicken, cut up the pineapple, onions and peppers and put them on the skewers, then slid them into the marinade.

  After that, he made himself an iced tea and headed into the game room.

  It wasn’t long before Rafe and Kal showed up.

  “Where you at?” Rafe shouted.

  “Game room,” Jackson yelled.

  “We got the stuff. You want to show us what you want to do with it?”

  Jackson rolled his eyes. His brothers were both extremely competent firefighters. They also both knew their way around the kitchen. If he wasn’t there, he was certain they could figure out what to do with the ingredients.

  He paused the game he’d been playing and went into the kitchen.

  “Slice the chicken, pineapple and veggies and slide them on the skewers, then add them into the container in the fridge where the other ones are marinating.”

  “What, you’re not gonna help?” Kal asked.

  He noted Kal was speaking to him again. The one thing he loved about his brother—about both of them—was that they could fight and neither of them would hold a grudge. Once the initial mad wore off, the argument was done. Whether it was work or personal shit, once it was over, it was over.

  “I think you can both figure it out. Besides, I’m winning a game in there.”

  “Aww, man,” Kal said, eyeing the TV with longing. “I’ll be in there to kick your ass as soon as we’re done in here.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jackson said. “Be sure to clean up the mess you make first.”

  He went back to his game, feeling no guilt whatsoever for making his brothers do the work. He knew they could handle it, and he wouldn’t have to worry about them leaving a mess. They all did their parts about keeping the house clean.

  The house had belonged to their gra
ndmother. Well, Laurel’s grandmother, who left it to Laurel when she died. Instead of selling it, Laurel had kept it and the guys had all renovated it within an inch of its life before moving in.

  Dad had told them they could live there and save on paying rent, though they had to pony up the money for insurance and taxes, and they were responsible for the upkeep and any repairs. It had been a sweet deal and none of them had minded putting the sweat equity into fixing the place up.

  Of course, Mom, being Mom, had told them they had to save their money, because someday they’d want to move out and buy houses of their own, so she didn’t expect them to show up with fancy cars or stupid toys they didn’t need. She had always raised them to become responsible adult men, which meant there were no freebies along the way. Which suited Jackson just fine. The last thing he’d ever wanted—from anyone—was a handout. The one thing he’d always admired about his parents was that they had never treated him or his brothers with kid gloves. They’d given them ample amounts of love, and an equal amount of discipline. Hugs when they needed it, and a good ass-kicking when it was required. Not the physical kind, of course—neither parent ever laid a hand on them. They never had to. Mom was always loving and generous and if you pissed her off all she had to do was look at you a certain way and you knew you’d screwed up. She was so gentle and sweet that you felt so bad if you made her angry that you swore to never do it again.

  Dad, on the other hand, was different. He laid down the law in no uncertain terms. He had rules and he expected you to follow them. He was also fun and coached their baseball teams and would laugh with them and play basketball with them. But if you broke curfew or didn’t do what you’d been asked to do or broke any of the other rules? You were grounded or you lost privileges. And there was no arguing your way out of it. Rules were rules and you didn’t break them.

  Jackson’s lips curved as he played his way through yet another game. He’d gotten so lucky with his parents. Who knew that almost getting killed in a fire would change his life so dramatically?

  “What are you grinning about?” Kal asked as he came in and plopped down on the sofa next to him.

  “Thinking about Mom and Dad. About how that fire changed our lives.”

 

‹ Prev