Hot to the Touch

by Jaci Burton

  “Is that why you don’t like to talk about the past? Because it hurts?”

  He removed his hand and stared down at his coffee. “Partly. And because I don’t see the point in it. I like where I’m at now. What good can come from talking about the past?”

  “Catharsis?”

  He shrugged. “I’m good. I don’t need catharsis.”

  “I don’t know if I believe that.”

  “Believe what?”

  “That you don’t need to put the past to bed. We’ve all had ugly pasts. You, me, your brothers. I don’t relive mine every day, but I’ve faced it, I recognize what I went through and I’ve moved on from it. If you haven’t, it’ll always haunt you.”

  He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “And maybe I’m just not as obsessed with the past as you are.”

  She grasped his wrist, loving the feel of his skin and needing the contact with him. “Come on, Jackson. Don’t dismiss it like that. What we all went through is an important part of who we are now. It’s like puzzle pieces. You have to fit the past pieces with the present ones to figure out how you became who you are now. And to find your future.”

  He smiled.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You’re so deep. And smart.”

  She laughed and shoved at him. “I am not.”

  “Yeah, you are. Not that you being all the things that turn me on is going to make me delve into my past, but I’m always impressed by how much you examine everything, especially me. I appreciate it.”

  She wanted to sit there and drink coffee and talk to Jackson all day. Unfortunately, bills had to be paid and there were people counting on her to show up today.

  “You’re sweet. And sexy as hell and I’d love to drag you to bed right now.”

  “To talk, right?”

  She teased her fingers over his bare chest. “Of course. Unfortunately, I have to go to work. So maybe we can . . . talk . . . tonight when I get home.”

  He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers. The kiss was soft, but then he deepened it and she found herself leaning in. So did he, his hand cupping her butt, making all kinds of unspoken promises. Her body tingled in anticipation. But she pulled back, smiled and slid out of her chair.

  “Gotta go,” she said.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  As she went upstairs to get ready for work, she made a mental memory of that kiss, because it was going to have to hold her all day long.

  * * *

  • • •

  An hour later, she arrived at the homeless encampment to pick up Aria. Instead of hanging at the curb, she parked, grabbed a package and made her way to the tents. Lexie spotted her right away and came up to hug her.

  “I missed you,” Lexie said.

  Becks felt the warmth of her hug. “I missed you, too. I brought you breakfast bars and other food and a couple new books and a bag to keep your favorite novels in.”

  “You did?” Her eyes sparkled with her smile. “Thanks, Becks.”

  “You’re welcome. You’re meeting with Mrs. Donovan today, right?”

  Lexie smiled. “Yes. I’m excited. And nervous. And excited.”

  “It’s okay to be nervous. But Mrs. Donovan is very nice. And I’ve heard the Rothman family is wonderful.”

  Aria showed up, looking cute in her bright flowery capris and blue T-shirt, her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail.

  “Those capris are so cute,” Becks said.

  “Thanks! I picked them up at Goodwill. They still had the tags on them. Five bucks.”

  “Really.” Becks smiled.

  “Yup. I’m amazed at the awesome stuff people give away.”

  “Aria told me she’s gonna take me shopping this weekend,” Lexie said.

  “Is that right?” Becks said. “Fun.”

  “When I get back tonight you can tell me all about your meeting,” Aria said.

  “And then Aria will tell me all about it,” Becks added.

  “Okay.” Lexie grinned.

  “I’ve gotta go, honey. We’ll talk soon, okay?”

  Lexie nodded. “Okay. Bye, Becks. Bye, Aria.”

  “I’ll see you tonight, Lexie,” Aria said.

  Lexie gave them a wave and headed back toward her tent.

  They stopped and had omelets for breakfast, because Becks knew it might be a while before she had a chance to eat again. Sometimes her schedule ended up being so full she couldn’t have any breaks, so she always made sure to fuel up strong at the start of the day.

  Of course Aria balked at having Becks pay for her meal, so she let Aria leave the tip, which seemed to satisfy her. She knew what it was like to be homeless but still have a little cash flow. You wanted to feel like you were a contributing member of society.

  And hopefully, soon enough, Aria would make enough money to leave the encampment and find a place to live.

  And if everything went well, she hoped Lexie would be out of the encampment and on her way to her forever home, too.

  When they got to the shop, a buzz of excitement drilled in her veins. Aria settled in at her desk, and Becks was thrilled to see her sitting there.

  She had an employee. Three, actually, though Hwan would be an unpaid intern and Martin was only renting booth space. So technically she had only one employee. But it was a start. She’d always run a one-woman shop. Today she felt like an entrepreneur. A boss. For a girl who’d grown up homeless with no prospects for the future, this was a huge jump and a dream come true.

  “I have the aftercare sheets printed,” Aria said, popping into her work area, handing a folder to her. “I put a folder on Martin’s desk as well.”

  “Perfect, thanks.”

  Aria started to turn away, but then she stopped. “Oh, and I updated your Facebook page to let everyone know you’re open for business today. We should do some Snaps of you working today and put pics on Instagram as well.”

  Becks nodded. “Good idea. You can do the pics and put them up, but make sure we get permission from the clients, too.”

  “Okay. I’ll print out a release form that we can have the clients sign.”

  Aria was sharp and always thinking ten steps ahead. Becks had made a good choice in hiring her.

  “And see if Martin wants that as well. We can put up a few pics on all the social media accounts.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  Becks had discovered that Aria was a natural at social media, so it would be great to turn all of that over to her, which would save Becks so much time. Typically she was busy and didn’t have time to update her social media accounts. But having someone else deal with it would keep things more current. And in this type of market the more you could get out there in real time, the better.

  She set out her colors and her machines and organized her schedule, making sure she knew exactly what her plan was for the day. She liked being organized.

  And before she knew it, Hwan had come in. She spent some time talking with him about the responsibilities of a tattoo artist, that it wasn’t just the art and the opportunity to put your permanent art on someone’s skin, but also you had the care of another human being in your hands.

  “There’s blood involved in tattooing. You’re pricking the skin when you insert the needle, so you have to be careful not only for your client, but also for yourself. Blood-borne pathogens pose a risk to all tattoo artists. Never take that lightly and always keep your equipment, your hands and your environment as sterile as possible. And always wear a mask. Your customers will thank you for it, and you’ll be healthier for it.”

  She’d been around more than her share of inkers who shrugged off precautions. Those were the artists she stayed away from. She took her job seriously. She loved making art, but she also made sure to keep both herself and her clients safe.

  “So it
’s kind of like being a surgeon,” Hwan said, studying the precautions booklet she’d handed to him. “Only instead of removing organs, we’re leaving art. And we’re making sure no one gets sick when we do it.”

  She smiled. “Yes.”

  She spent some time going over her schedule today with Hwan so he’d know what she was going to be working on. He’d sit back and observe for a very long time before he’d ever be allowed to work on a person. Plus he’d have to get his blood-borne pathogen certification, and he’d practice on fake skin and fruit and whatever wasn’t alive until she was satisfied that he knew what he was doing.

  She also intended to keep him drawing. That was how you got better.

  She’d been tattooing for years and she still sketched—all the time. In black pencil, colored pencils, ink, watercolor, whatever struck her fancy. But she always had ideas in her head for potential tattoos.

  As she’d been going through the different types of ink with Hwan, Aria stuck her head in. “Martin’s here.”

  “Okay, great, thanks.”

  She’d told Martin when she hired him that she was going to have an apprentice. She wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to bother him having Hwan loitering around. Martin was cool with it and had said Hwan could watch him tattoo as well, which would be great for her new apprentice. Learning from two different tattoo artists would definitely help him. Each artist had their own style and did art different ways. Hwan would benefit from being able to watch both Becks and Martin.

  Before long, everyone was settled in and their first clients arrived. For the next several hours, Becks was busy with work. Her first client was a repeat customer. She’d done quite a bit of ink on her, so Becks had the opportunity to show Hwan her previous work on Jessie’s chest, stomach, back and shoulders and down her left arm. Today they were working on a swan on her right arm.

  “Do you intend to go full body ink?” Hwan asked her.

  Jessie, a beautiful petite young woman with bubble-gum-pink hair cut in a bob, nodded at Hwan. “I’m an exotic dancer and the ink shows off beautifully under the lights. Plus my body art is a great conversation piece for my clients.”

  Hwan’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then finally said, “Oh, that’s very nice.”

  Becks resisted the urge to laugh, but she exchanged a knowing smile with Jessie.

  “It’s okay, Hwan. I love my work.”

  “Oh, that’s very nice,” Hwan said again.

  It was clear Hwan had no idea what to do with Jessie.

  Most men didn’t. Jessie was currently saving up money to go to law school. And the money she made as an exotic dancer was very good, much better than she’d made as a waitress while getting her bachelor’s degree.

  “I intend to be the first fully tattooed judge on the Supreme Court,” Jessie had told her when they first started working together.

  “It’s good to have lofty goals,” Becks had said in reply. And now, knowing how hard Jessie worked at everything she did, she didn’t doubt for one second that someday she’d see Jessie’s dream come true.

  The swan was a delicate piece and Becks took her time to make sure it was to Jessie’s exact specifications. She made sure that every feather, every part of the swan’s delicate neck was perfect. When she finished, Jessie stretched and went to look at the swan in the mirror. She lifted her arm and made those elegant strokes with her hand that only a dancer knew how to do.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful, Becks,” she said, turning around to face Becks with a serene smile on her face. “She’s beautiful. I love her.”

  “I’m so glad. Now let me wrap her up and you can be on your way.”

  After Jessie paid and left, Hwan turned to Becks. “I’m sorry. I have to do better with client interaction.”

  “You do. You’ll find all types of customers come in here. Some are doctors, some are trash collectors. Some are police officers and some are people who have a dark past. And all are worthy of our respect.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind. I’m sorry if I gave the impression that I thought less of Jessie. To be honest, I was kind of dazzled by her and found myself a bit tongue-tied.”

  Becks’s lips curved. “She has that effect on a lot of people. But try to look beyond someone’s surface to the person underneath.”

  “I will. Thank you for that advice. I’ll add it to my notes.”

  Hwan was not only making drawings while he watched her work—though his drawings were his own and she was happy to see he wasn’t copying her—but he was always making notes.

  Hopefully he was learning something.

  She remembered what it was like to be brand-new, to soak up all the knowledge her mentor had taught her. She’d been raw then as well, so she had to remind herself to cut Hwan some slack.

  There was a lot to learn, and they still had a long day ahead of them.

  CHAPTER 23

  Jackson pulled up in front of his parents’ house. Rafe and Kal’s trucks were already there.

  It was odd for his dad to call a family meeting on their day off. Typically because his mom was usually at work and family meetings meant the whole family, so Jackson was nervous about what was going on.

  Before he went in, he pulled out his phone and sent a text message to Becks.

  Thinking about you. How’s your day going?

  He didn’t expect her to answer because he knew she’d be busy.

  But on his way up the walkway to his parents’ front door, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of the pocket of his shorts to check the message. It was from Becks.

  Busy but really good. See you tonight. Xoxo

  He smiled at that. He was glad she was having a good day. He wanted her to succeed. He tucked his phone into his pocket, then opened the front door. He could hear his dad’s voice coming from the family room, so he went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of iced tea.

  First thing every morning in the summer, his mom always brewed a fresh pot of iced tea and left it on the counter. Jackson grabbed a glass from the cabinet, put ice in the glass and poured the tea, smiling as he remembered the first time he’d helped his mom brew a pot of tea.

  He’d always been fascinated by everything, especially anything having to do with food. Plus on the weekends, iced tea came with sugar cookies. And anything that added calories to his rapidly growing frame had been good news to him.

  Mom had informed all the boys when they came to live with them that they’d learn to be productive members of society. They’d go to school to get smart, and at home they’d had the responsibility of yard work and to take the trash out. They’d had to clean their own bathroom and load and unload the dishwasher. To their horror, they were also taught to cook.

  As he grabbed his glass and headed into the family room, he smiled as he remembered the first time he had to make spaghetti and meatballs.

  His mother was the most patient woman on the planet. And he’d never made more horrible meatballs in his life.

  His mom had been the only one to eat the meal he’d cooked. Dad had taken Rafe and Kal out for burgers.

  He’d never loved his mother more than he had watching her smile through her grimaces as she’d eaten those dry, awful meatballs. Even he couldn’t stomach them. But she’d told him that he’d done his best, and next time he’d do better.

  At least he’d been able to eat out with Dad when Kal and Rafe had tried their hands at cooking. They had all ended up being great at grilling, but Kal had turned out to be a much better cook than Rafe or him.

  The bastard.

  When he got to the family room, his dad and Rafe were watching a baseball game on television. Kal was pacing behind the couch talking to someone on the phone.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Jackson asked as he walked into the room.

  “Nothing much,” his dad said. “Just waiting
on you.”

  Jackson tamped down that nervous sensation in his stomach. “I’m here now.”

  “Yeah, and you’re late,” Kal said, tucking his phone in his shorts pocket and coming around to fling himself into his seat on the sofa.

  Jackson looked at his phone and rolled his eyes. “Five minutes.”

  “You’re fine, Jackson,” his dad said. “I wanted you all here while your mom was at work because I have an idea I’d like to surprise her with for her birthday, and I wanted to know what you all thought about it.”

  Okay, nothing serious. No one was sick. They weren’t getting a divorce. Jackson could exhale now.

  “Sure, Dad,” Rafe said. “Shoot.”

  “She’s always wanted a garden out back, a place where she could plant herbs and vegetables and stuff. But the backyard is kind of small, as you know.”

  “Yeah, it is,” Kal said.

  “So I’m thinking of putting the house on the market and buying another house. One with a pool and a big backyard with a lot of space so she could have that garden she’s always wanted. And the pool she never talks about but I know she wants.”

  “I think it’s a great idea, Dad,” Jackson said. Though he wondered why he was running it by them.

  “Me, too,” Rafe said.

  Kal nodded. “Ditto.”

  His dad let out a big breath. “You sure? This is the house where we brought you all to live. For us, it’s the house where we became a family, where we have all the memories of tossing a football on the front yard. Where Kal broke his arm falling out of the tree.”

  “Because he’s a klutz,” Rafe said.

  Kal shot Rafe a glare. “Because you shoved me off the branch, asshole.”

  “That’s because Jackson was chasing after me.”

  Jackson noticed the tears welling in his father’s eyes. “Dad.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Our memories are with you and Mom. Not the house. The house is just brick and wood and glass. We have plenty of pictures. And we have the two of you. Wherever you go, if you’re happy going there, we’ll all be happy, too.”