Burn: Men of Inked Heatwave #2

by Chelle Bliss

  “Got to get you a new ID, and Joe said something about hiring you on at Inked if you’re interested in a job.”

  “No shit,” Austin whispers in disbelief.

  “My dad said that?” I gape at Pike, blinking rapidly. “You sure you heard him right?”

  Pike nods, those green eyes sweeping across my face. “Those were his exact words.”

  “Before all the fucks or after?” Tamara asks, reminding us all about the meltdown.

  I give her the side-eye, and she shrugs.

  “Fuck,” Austin mutters, dropping his shoulders, remorse clearly evident in his posture. “I’m so fucking sorry. So. So. So. Fucking sorry.”

  “Maybe try talking without so many fucks, kid.” Tamara chuckles. “I mean, we all love the word, but I’m thinking at the shop, it may not fly around so freely.”

  I snort. “We’re not a library,” I remind her. It is a business, of course, but it’s still a tattoo shop. “But you should probably expand your vocabulary if my dad hires you.”

  “I fu…screwed up, didn’t I?” Austin’s eyes are begging me to tell him he didn’t, but I have to be honest.

  “Kinda. But…” I give him a small smile, hoping I can at least make him feel a little better. “We’ve all screwed up before. It’s not the end of the world.”

  “Go shower, and we’ll head to the shop and see how bad the damage is,” Pike tells him, getting a quick nod from Austin before he takes off back down the hallway.

  “You’re really sure you heard my dad say he wanted to hire him?” I scrunch my nose. “Because that sure as hell doesn’t sound like something he’d offer.”

  Pike rubs the back of his neck, lifting one shoulder. “He said they needed someone part time to cover the desk because you’re too busy with your own customers now.”

  I blink, because sure, it made sense, but Austin? My dad isn’t the biggest fan of Pike, and now, after Austin’s outburst, I’m not sure he would even give Austin the time of day.

  “I figured we’d drop by the shop, feel out your dad a bit, and see what happens from there.”

  I go back to my coffee, sipping slowly, thinking over all the ways this could end in disaster. I liked being there when Pike and my dad were in the same room so I could be the referee, but today it isn’t possible.

  “I’m going to get ready so we can go shopping, okay?” Tamara asks, interrupting my train of thought of all the horrible ways their stop by the shop could end.

  “Yeah. I’ll be ready in thirty,” I tell her, bringing my attention back to Pike as she disappears down the same hallway Austin just went down.

  “Hey, sweet cheeks,” Austin says from his room, that Southern drawl coming out just a little.

  “Change in Pike’s room!” I yell.

  Tamara and Austin burst into laughter, knowing full well they were just trying to get a rise out of me.

  I fell for it too. Hook. Line. And sinker.

  “You think I shouldn’t go?” Pike bumps his hip into me when I don’t take my eyes off the hallway, making sure both parties are separate so there’re no shenanigans.

  “No. Of course you should go,” I lie. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  Everything.

  Pike smiles, nodding like he believes the bullshit coming out of my mouth. “We won’t be long. We’ll be back to help you carry whatever you need inside.”

  “It’s going to be a lot,” I warn him, wrapping my arms around his neck and soaking in those deep green eyes.

  “Darlin’, I’d carry the weight of the world on my shoulders for you.”

  “Which one is Morris again?” Tamara asks as we sit at lunch, trying to find more energy to keep shopping.

  We’ve managed to buy almost everything I need for the kitchen, which isn’t much because, like my mother, I suck at cooking. We bought pillows, bedding, towels, and just enough other things to make the place livable and as comfortable as a dorm room. In time, I’ll make it more of a home, but for now, it would do.

  “He’s a guy in the Disciples. One of Pike’s good friends.”

  Her dark brown eyebrows wrinkle as she studies me over her double burger. “So, he shot Pike in the shoulder, but they’re friends?”

  I know what she’s thinking. It’s bananas and something I’ll never understand about men.

  “Yep,” I snap the P.

  “If a bitch even looks at me sideways, I’m never going to be her friend. If she shoots me…” She shakes her head, that pile of brown hair moving with her, still not comprehending the way a man’s brain works. “I’d kill her.”

  I shrug, shifting through my fries to find a crunchy little one. “I don’t understand it, Tam, but he’s really a nice guy.”

  She blinks at me, dropping her chin. “He’s a nice guy?”

  I nod. “He’s super sweet and funny.”

  “He shot Pike,” she reminds me as if I didn’t just tell her that five seconds ago.

  “I know, but it was on accident.”

  She blinks those hazel eyes again, placing her burger back on the plate. “You sound like him now. He shot Pike, but it’s okay because it wasn’t on purpose and he’s nice.”

  “Uh, yeah,” I say like duh.

  “Where’s my cousin, and what have you done with her?”

  I snort, knowing I sound like a complete psycho. “Stop it.” I throw a fry in her direction, one that’s limp and wasn’t going in my mouth anyway. “I’m just telling you what happened.”

  “Is Morris hot?” She lifts an eyebrow, her old-man radar going off. “’Cause he sounds badass.”

  “Are you out of your freaking mind?” I gawk at her.

  She smirks. “You said he’s funny and sweet. Plus, if he’s any kind of a badass biker dude like Pike, I’m all in, baby.”

  I reach up and rub my temples, instantly regretting it when my greasy fingers slide across my skin. “Morris is old enough to be your father.”

  She grimaces but quickly rebounds. “Does he have a son?” she asks in a super chipper tone. “Because if he does—” she waggles her eyebrows “—I want to meet him.”

  “What is wrong with you?” I ask her, going back to pushing around my French fries.

  “I need to move on with my life. What was it that Mallory told you?” She lifts a finger, staring upward, recalling those words from almost two years ago. “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Maybe we can go over to the compound one night for a party.”

  I drop the fry from my fingers and push my entire plate to the side. Leaning forward, I whisper, “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

  “No,” she insists calmly. “I’m just looking for a good time, and nothing sounds like more fun than a biker party.”

  I close my eyes, sucking in the deepest breath, trying not to lose my shit in the middle of the restaurant. “You’ve watched way too much television. Biker parties are…”

  “You’re trying to tell me there’s not dick for days?”

  “Dick for days?” I giggle. “Did you just say that?”

  She nods slowly, tossing her dark locks behind her shoulder. “I’m not looking for anything serious, babe. You know me. I’ve been in enough shit relationships to last me a while. I just want some cock, goddamn it.”

  The lady next to us starts choking, clearly hearing every filthy word coming out of my sweet cousin’s mouth. Within seconds, she has picked up her plate and is moving across the restaurant with the plate in her hands.

  “Nice,” I tell her, rolling my eyes.

  She shrugs. “Whatever. That lady could probably use some dick too.”

  “There’s something seriously wrong with you,” I whisper, trying to hold back my laughter. “I really missed your dumb ass.”

  “I missed you too.” She smiles. “This is going to be the best summer ever.”

  Heaven help me.

  13

  Pike

  Austin hasn’t said three words to me since we got in the truck
, finding the scenery way more interesting. “We need to talk about yesterday.”

  He doesn’t look in my direction. “I think you said enough.”

  I deserve the shitty attitude. I know how much words hurt, sometimes more than any fist. “I’m sorry for what I said, Austin. It was such an asshole thing to say. I didn’t really mean for it to come out like that.”

  He lifts a shoulder. “It doesn’t matter,” he mutters as he rests his cheek against his palm.

  “It does. It matters a hell of a lot.” I flick my gaze to him, wishing he’d at least look at me, but he doesn’t.

  When the girls were around, he was a funny, smartass guy, but as soon as they walked out of the apartment, he went cold.

  “I’m not stuck with you. I wanted you to be here with me,” I admit, trying to dig myself out of the verbal grave I’ve been buried in since my talk with Joe. “Gran would’ve been more than happy to have you live with her, but I thought we’d spent enough time apart that nothing else made sense other than to bring you home.”

  “Yay, me,” he cheers in the most unenthusiastic voice, one full of sarcasm. “I’m a lucky guy.”

  “I know I was an asshole,” I admit.

  “You always have been,” he shoots back immediately.

  I bite my lip, stopping myself from telling this little fucker off. “I deserve that.”

  He finally glances in my direction. “Even though you weren’t there, I looked up to you, man. Even with all the bad shit, I was so freaking happy to see my big brother again. And what did you do?”

  “I fucked up.”

  “Do you know how it feels when you know you aren’t wanted?”

  It’s my turn to give him the side-eye because it’s the only thing I knew as a child. Felt that shit every damn day.

  He closes his eyes, knowing how he’s just fucked up. “It sucks,” he groans.

  “I never want you to feel how Mom and—” I pause and almost say Colton, but I catch myself “—Dad made me feel every day. If I could take the words back, I would. It was the most asshole-ish thing I’ve ever said.”

  “I highly doubt that.” He snorts.

  Pulling into the lot of Inked, I know I have to smooth shit over before we walk inside. If Austin’s on edge and a total shithead, he’s only going to bury me deeper. Plus, I don’t want my brother to feel unwanted, even though I didn’t expect to have a seventeen-year-old living with me right now. “I know you’re almost a man.”

  “Damn right,” he blurts out.

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “And I’m not Mom or Dad.” God, that word is like acid on my tongue, burning every time I say the single syllable. “But we’re in this together. I had Gran looking out for me around your age before I took off, and I want to be there for you before you do whatever it is you’re going to do after this year.”

  He doesn’t reply, just stares out the window, checking out the shop at the end of the truck’s hood.

  So, I keep going. “Do you want a job?”

  “Do you want me to work here?” He ticks his head toward Inked, and his brown hair flops over into his eyes. “You work here, right?” he finally asks, looking at me again.

  I nod, blowing out a long, long breath. “I want you here. I work a lot in the evenings, so this would be the only way for us to spend more time together.”

  He twists his lips and narrows his eyes, but at least I have his attention. “You mean so you can keep an eye on me.”

  I shake my head and grimace. “You’re not a little boy. We need to get to know each other all over again, and that isn’t happening when I’m working all night.”

  His gaze goes back to the tattoo shop, eyes sweeping over the front window and the flurry of activity inside. “What do I have to do?”

  “Work the front desk, welcome customers, answer phones. Gigi used to do it, but now she has her own chair.”

  Austin drops his arm, straightening in the seat. “You think he’ll still hire me?”

  “I don’t know, kid. The guy hates me.”

  He gives me a no shit look. “You are fucking his kid.”

  I glare at him. “Never say those words again.”

  “Fine.” He rolls his eyes. “You’re dating his daughter. Better?”

  I point toward Inked. “She’s related to everyone in there. Her aunt, father, and uncles own the place and work there. And I work there. If you’re a shithead…”

  “I know how not to be an asshole, Pike. I’ve had a job since I was fifteen, and I am a damn good employee.”

  “Where?” I ask.

  “Over at the Sanders’ farm. I worked after school and on weekends to save some money for a bike.”

  “A bicycle?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

  He shakes his head. “I’m $1000 away from having the keys to my own Harley.”

  “Maybe you should get a junk car first.”

  He gives me the same look I gave Gran when she said the same thing to me. Jesus Christ, I am turning into an old person.

  “Cars are too expensive, and I’ve wanted a Harley since…”

  “Since I took you for a ride on mine,” I reply, remembering him as a little kid with his hands wrapped around my waist, screaming at the top of his lungs as he sat on the back.

  He smiles. “Yeah.”

  “Harley it is, then.” I’m not one-hundred-percent comfortable with the idea, but who the fuck am I to tell him no?

  “Can we go inside?” He reaches for the handle but doesn’t open the door, waiting for me to answer.

  We’re not two steps inside when Mike, Gigi’s uncle and the ex-fighter, steps right in front of us, locking eyes on my little brother.

  Austin cranes his neck back as far as it can go, taking in the height and width of the freakishly large man. “H-hi again,” Austin stutters with wide eyes.

  “You’re not going to pull that again, are you?” Mike threatens more than asks, his voice deep and, as always, scary as shit.

  “No, sir.” Austin swallows.

  A slow smile spreads across Mike’s face as he places his hand on my little brother’s shoulder. “You have things to work through, but you save them for when you’re away from the customers and on your own time.”

  “Yeah,” Austin whispers. “My own time.”

  I chuckle to myself, watching my brother virtually piss his pants as Mike squeezes his shoulder hard enough to make him wince.

  “Smart kid.”

  “Austin,” Izzy says in a singsong voice, walking quickly into the front of the shop, knocking her brother out of the way with her hip. A moment later, her arms are open and around my brother’s shoulders like she’s missed him.

  Hell, the woman never hugged me. She’s never looked at me the way she looks at him. No matter what I’ve done, I’ve never told the entire family to go fuck themselves. But here we are, and Izzy is being…motherly?

  She pulls back, but her hands stay on his arms, never breaking contact. “Are you doing okay? We were worried.”

  “I’m fine now, ma’am.”

  My eyes widen immediately, waiting for her to rip him a new asshole like she did me the first time I called her ma’am.

  She laughs, slapping his arm. “It’s just Iz or Izzy, kid.”

  He gives her a lopsided smile, probably thrown off by her hotness even if she’s old enough to be his mother. “Iz,” he whispers, turning a bright shade of pink but clearing his throat when it must dawn on him that he’s acting like an idiot.

  “Hey, Pike,” Izzy throws out over her shoulder, barely even looking my way.

  “Hey,” I reply, rubbing the back of my neck, knowing I’m never going to get the warm and fuzzy welcome from anyone in this family.

  “Joe, Austin’s here.” Izzy smiles at Austin, still acting like she’s the sweetest thing ever. Which she isn’t. “Pike too.”

  I walk around Izzy and Austin, heading to my chair, figuring I might as well get comfortable for a little while. I’m sure Joe’s going to gril
l him, read him the riot act about his behavior yesterday, before making his final decision.

  “Yo,” Anthony murmurs, dipping his chin at me as soon as he sees me. “The girls going good?”

  “They’re great,” I tell him. “What’s going on?”

  “Just waiting for them to finish so we can get out of here. I hate these monthly meetings,” Anthony grumbles.

  “Monthly meetings?” I raise an eyebrow, having forgotten it’s Monday. When Gigi told me to take Austin to the shop today, I didn’t even think about the fact that Inked was usually closed.

  “Yep. All the owners meet every third Monday to talk about the financial affairs and store business. It’s Mike’s idea. He’s such a pain in the ass.”

  I snort but quickly wipe that look off my face when Mike walks in the back. “What are you two bitches talking about?”

  “Your meeting.” Anthony kicks back, resting his feet on a nearby stool as he folds his hands behind his head. “Are we done? You’ve already gone on and on for almost two hours.”

  I grab my phone, swiping across the screen to the text app, letting them talk.

  Me: Hey, darlin’. How’s shopping?

  “As soon as Joe’s done talking to Austin, we’ll leave,” Mike says, dropping into a chair so hard, I’m shocked it doesn’t buckle under his weight.

  Gigi: Tamara’s on the prowl.

  Me: For dishes?

  I scratch my face, staring at the screen, ignoring the two guys bickering across the room from me.

  Gigi: A man!!! A badass biker man. WTF is wrong with her?

  I have nothing. I don’t even know how to respond to something like that.

  Gigi: Other than that, it’s going well. We’ll be back in a few hours.

  Me: We’ll be ready.

  “Gigi?” Mike asks, making me lift my head.

  “Yeah. They’re shopping.”

  Joe strolls into the room with Austin at his side. “We’ll start training you as soon as you’re ready to start working.”

  “I’m ready as soon as you are, sir.” Austin smiles up at the big guy.

  “You can work as many hours as you want until school starts, and then we’ll cut back. Nothing’s more important than your schoolwork.”