Inked

by Everly Drummond

  Avery handed her the plastic folder that contained a receipt and her credit card, “My dinner bill.”

  The waitress opened the black plastic folder and looked at the slip of paper, confused. “The gentleman already paid this bill on his way out.”

  “Do you mean the man carrying all the presents?” Avery inquired, but she had a sinking feeling that Scott wasn’t the one to cough up the cash.

  “No, the tall man wearing jeans and a t-shirt,” the hostess clarified.

  “Of course he did. Thank you.” Avery took her credit card from the folder and placed it back into her wallet. She quickly maneuvered across the dining room and stepped outside into the pouring rain, cursing Brody and his charitable nature. He has got to stop doing this!

  Chapter 7

  Brody's hands moved swiftly across the keyboard, the click of the keys rebounding loudly off the walls in the small office as he pounded down on them. What right did Veronica have to tell his mother about Parker? None! But she had, and now he was left to clean up her mess. Of course he would've told his family about Parker, but he intended to do it on his terms and when he was ready, not at her leisure. Veronica knew she could use this as leverage against him in the divorce, and when it boiled down to it, she was a greedy, vindictive bitch at heart.

  He groaned heavily into the phone pressed against his ear and held firmly in place by his shoulder. "Of course I was going to tell you about him."

  "When, Brody? When we were you going to tell me that I have a grandson, and how long have you known about him? Do you even know if he's yours?” Using the tip of her index finger, Cynthia Duncan rubbed at the pain in her temple and sighed in frustration. “Maybe Veronica was right when she suggested you get a paternity test. It’s the only way you’ll know for sure if the boy is yours.”

  Brody pounded harder against the black, plastic keys of his laptop. This was the third time his mother had asked him the exact same question in the span of five minutes. Maybe telling Veronica that he had a son wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done. He should’ve known that she’d use it against him, but for her to go behind his back and tell his mother about Parker was low, even for her. Brody’s head sank in defeat and he repeated himself for the second time. “I’m certain that Parker is my son. There’s no doubt about it. The boy looks exactly like me.”

  “Listen, Brody,” Cynthia murmured in the motherly tone she normally reserved for scraped knees, broken prom dates, and heartbreak, “I know how badly you want to have a family, and I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Veronica, but please be careful. If you tell me that Parker is your son, I believe you, but you seem to forget how miserable you were when you never heard back from that girl. I just don’t want to see you hurt again. And, well, there’s a child involved now. Just promise me that you’ll be careful for your sake, and his.”

  “Mom, this isn’t about Avery,” Brody lied. “Parker is my son and I have every intention of being the father he deserves.”

  When Cynthia spoke, her voice beamed with pride. “You’re going to make one hell of a father to that little boy.”

  Shocked by his mother’s words and her willingness to accept Parker as his son, Brody leaned back in his chair and smiled quietly to himself. “Thanks, mom, but I have a feeling that his grandma is going to give me a run for my money.”

  “Grandma,” Cynthia whispered, as if the word was music to her ears. She was already a grandma four times over by Brody’s siblings, but the thought of having another grandchild thrilled her.

  “I’ll call you later,” he said, and sat up straighter in the chair, staring intently at the email he’d rewritten a hundred times before finally settling on something simple and to the point. After saying a brief goodbye, Brody hung up the phone. He sat there for several more minutes watching the cursor blinked rapidly over the send button. What’s the worst that could happen? he thought to himself, and nervously clicked the mouse. A lump formed in his throat as the email vanished from his screen.

  •••••

  If it wasn’t for the fact that Avery had just spent $30 dollars on a manicure, her nails would be chewed down to the quick by now, so instead of ruining a perfectly good manicure, she fidgeted mindlessly with a ballpoint pen as she reread the email for a fourth time.

  From: Brody Duncan Brody@InkubusTattoos.com

  To: Avery Carmichael Avery_Carmichael@hotmail.com

  Subject: Dinner Tonight

  Avery,

  You, me, and a bottle of merlot. Tonight 7pm sharp!

  See you soon!

  Brody

  P.S. Wear something nice.

  “Pompous ass,” she cursed under her breath. Not only did Brody tell her they were having dinner tonight, but he was dictating what she was to wear. Who in the hell did he think he was? Furious, she tossed the pen aside and began typing her response.

  From: Avery Carmichael Avery_Carmichael@hotmail.com

  To: Brody Duncan Brody@InkubusTattoos.com

  Subject: Re: Dinner Tonight

  Dear Brody,

  Sorry, but I am unable to find a babysitter on such short notice. Even if I could find a sitter, my answer would still be no. I don’t appreciate being told what to do. If you’d asked me, I might have said yes.

  Avery

  A chime sounded, indicating that he had unread mail in his inbox. Anxiously, Brody opened the email and began to read. He couldn’t help but laugh. After all these years, Avery was still as feisty and stubborn as ever.

  From: Brody Duncan Brody@InkubusTattoos.com

  To: Avery Carmichael Avery_Carmichael@hotmail.com

  Subject: Re: Re: Dinner Tonight

  Avery,

  It was not my intention to offend you, but you and I both know that unless I take drastic measures, you’ll never agree to have dinner with me. It’s not like I’m asking you to give me a kidney, I only want to have dinner. No talk of Parker, no talk of us, just two old friends catching up.

  As for a babysitter, I’m sure you can figure out something. If I recall correctly, I think you said something about you and Parker having dinner at your sister’s house every night. I may be mistaken, but I don’t think Chloe will mind your absence.

  Brody

  P.S. I’ll see you at 7! ;)

  “Pompous ass,” she cursed again, and slammed the laptop shut. Brody would be in for a rude awakening when he showed up at her door only to discover that she wasn’t there. Avery pushed back from the desk, almost causing her chair to topple over backwards, and stormed off in the direction of the shower, still furious that he would assume she’d drop everything to have dinner with him. And what made him so certain that Chloe would be willing to watch Parker on such short notice? Of course she would, but he didn’t know that.

  The heat from the shower did little to loosen her muscles or calm her nerves. She’d told Brody no, that she was unable to find a babysitter, but she suspected that he’d be there at seven o’clock sharp regardless of what excuse she gave him.

  Stepping out of the shower, she cinched the towel around her body and crossed the bathroom floor, marring the tile with tiny, wet footprints. Holding the towel in place with one hand, she used the other to wipe away the steam that had accumulated on the mirror. The black rings under her eyes reminded her of the rings of a tree. Where a tree’s rings represented its age, the black rings under her eyes represented the number of sleepless nights she’d endured the past week. Between the lingering cough that woke Parker up most nights and several overdue assignments that should’ve been finished days ago, sleep was a luxury that she couldn’t afford.

  Avery stood on her tip toes and leaned into the mirror, appraising herself. The black marks under her eyes could easily be fixed with a little makeup, and even though her hair currently resembled a rat’s nest, a few curls and a touch of hairspray would have it looking presentable. The more she thought about it, the more appealing the idea of having dinner with Brody became. A glass of wine, a nice meal, good conversation, and...
No, she stopped herself mid-thought. It was a onetime thing. Heading down that road with Brody would only complicate things even more, wouldn’t it? Determined not to dwell on it, she returned to the living room and retrieved her phone from the desk. Her fingers moved quickly across the screen as she typed a text to her sister.

  Are you busy tonight?

  A minute later her phone beeped in response.

  No, why?

  Avery briefly considered her options. She could tell Chloe that Brody had invited her to dinner, but that would only lead to a million questions, or she could tell her that she was feeling under the weather and ask her to watch Parker for the night. Choosing the lesser of two evils, Avery decided on the latter.

  I think I’m coming down with Parker’s cold. Can you watch him tonight and I’ll pick him up first thing in the morning?

  It took only a minute for Chloe to respond.

  Cold? Please, you were perfectly healthy this morning. If you want me to babysit Parker all you have to do is ask. Lame excuse not needed.

  Busted!

  Fine! I’m having dinner with Brody. Are you happy now?

  “Jesus, what is she, some sort of human lie detector?” Avery laughed, and tossed her phone on the desk. But before she could make it out of the living room it beeped one final time.

  I want all the juicy details. Oh, and tell Brody I said hi! 

  The clock on the nightstand glared brightly in the semi-darkness of the bedroom. It was already six-thirty. She’d waxed, scrubbed, shaved, and primped every inch of her body—not that anyone would be seeing it—and the only thing left to do was chose an outfit. Standing in front of her closet, Avery reached up and pulled the small black bag from the shelf. After her last encounter with Brody, she’d purchased a matching set of red satin bra and panties, something that was a far cry from the granny panties and practical bras that she normally wore. And as much as she tried to convince herself that pursuing something with Brody was a bad idea, there was no doubt that he was at the forefront of her mind when she’d purchased the scanty garments.

  Turning her attention back to the closet, she scanned the clothing that hung from the rack. Wear something nice. Brody’s words kept repeating over and over in her mind like a broken record. Without having occasion to dress up, she had turned into a classic frump girl. For the past five years she’d lived in jeans, sweatpants, sweaters, and t-shirts. As the panic began to set in, Avery frantically searched the closet, tossing aside anything made from denim or cotton, until at last she stumbled across a dry cleaning bag hanging at the very back of her closet. She wasn’t sure what Brody’s definition of “nice” entailed, but it would have to do.

  Avery ripped the thin, plastic bag that sheathed the dress. Having wore it only once for a dinner at the Dean’s residence, she’d almost forgotten about it. Even though it had been sitting in her closet untouched for over two years, the cheap plastic bag that covered it had prevented it from smelling like moth balls.

  She glanced over at the clock. 6:45, damn! As the minutes ticked away, Avery rushed to get dressed, stopping only for a second to luxuriate in the feel of the cool satin against her bare skin and how it felt so different from the rough touch of Brody’s hands. Don’t go there, she mentally scolded herself, and turned her attention to the dress lying on the bed.

  With only minutes to spare, Avery quickly finished dressing and hurried to the bathroom to put the final touches on her hair. Locks of golden blond curls cascaded down her back and shoulders. She reached up and, taking the curls between her fingers, swiftly and expertly pinned them up into a knot at the nape of her neck. Just as the last curl was pinned into place, the sound of knocking reverberated throughout the apartment, sending shivers of anticipation up her spine.

  Chapter 8

  Brody stood outside her door and fidgeted with the item in his pocket. A month ago he’d been standing in the exact same spot the first time he’d laid eyes on his son. Everything and yet nothing seemed to have changed since then. He was a father now, but his son had no idea who he was. Avery was back in his life—and his bed—but she was no closer to being his one and only.

  He hoped that after tonight things would be different between them, that he and Avery would share so much more than a bed. Tonight he would let her know how much she still meant to him.

  The cracking sound of his knuckles against the wooden door reverberated loudly in the narrow confines of the hallway. Brody took a step back and waited patiently for Avery to answer. As he contemplated knocking for a second time, the door slowly crept open and he looked up. It wasn’t the sheer black dress that hugged her slender physique that caused his arousal to immediately spring to attention and strain against the coarse fabric of his dress pants, nor was it the teardrop earrings that glistened against her milky white complexion. It was Avery’s heart stopping smile that spread across the delicate features of her face as her eyes fell upon him.

  “Hi,” Brody croaked out in a hoarse voice. His eyes roved her body from head to toe, drinking in the sight of her.

  “Hi,” Avery replied shyly. Her smile noticeably widened and she giggled out loud when her attention was drawn to the growing bulge in his pants.

  Memories of their previous encounter in the hallway that took place only a month ago began to sweep through his mind, but Brody quickly suppressed them. Tonight wasn’t about Parker, or private schools, or the cheque he’d given her that she had yet to cash. It was about them and about his efforts to win her back. When he’d messaged her earlier that day about accompanying him to dinner, he didn’t give her the chance to say no. And even though deep down a part of him thought that Avery would stand him up, here she was, standing in front of him looking exquisite and breathtaking. Tonight was his one and only chance to win her over and he wasn’t about to blow it.

  Avery took a step towards him, their bodies gently brushing against each other as she stepped into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind her. Nonchalantly, she leaned into him and inhaled a familiar scent that was definitely male and distinctly Brody. And when she spoke, her voice was barely audible over the sound of her racing heart. “Are you ready to go?”

  With his hand still in his pocket, Brody clutched the silk handkerchief tightly in his fist. “I have something I want to give you first.”

  Her eyes fluttered shut and her body, as if having a mind of its own, swayed slightly and leaned in closer. Her lips pursed together and formed a small O, preparing for a kiss that never came.

  “There’s gonna be plenty of time for that later, trust me,” Brody snarled, his voice heady and full of promise, “but this is what I wanted to give you.”

  Avery’s eyes snapped open and a deep crimson blush reddened her cheeks. Embarrassment coursed through her. Don’t be so goddamn foolish, she silently scolded herself, but she couldn’t help it. Over the past few weeks Avery had allowed Brody back into her life, and into her bed. She knew that she was walking a fine like and that eventually she’d have to tell him everything, but not tonight. Tonight she was going to relax and enjoy his company, and if things were to… Avery’s thoughts began to drift off but Brody’s soft chuckle brought her back to the present. When she looked up, she looked into a pair of knowing eyes. It wasn’t hard to tell that his thoughts too had drifted to later this evening and to the promises it held.

  “This is for you.” Brody held out his hand and unclenched his fist.

  Her gaze traveled down the length of the sleek, black blazer that molded to the muscular contours of his body, past the still growing bulge in the front of his pants, and to his outstretched hand. There, in his palm, was a crumpled, gray silk handkerchief. Using his free hand, Brody began to peel back the corners, revealing what was hidden beneath.

  Avery tentatively raised her hand to his. The tip of her finger skimmed the edges of the bracelet with slow and purposeful movements, as if she were committing every detail of it to memory. Crafted from sterling silver, two charms—one an intricately sculpted lotu
s flower and the other a miniature replica of a tattoo gun—hung amidst a string of silver beads.

  “It’s beautiful,” Avery cooed, and plucked it from his hand.

  “Not as beautiful as you.” Brody retrieved the bracelet from between her fingers and raised his arm, his hands encircling her wrist. “May I?”

  Avery nodded and smiled.

  The close proximity of his hand to her body caused droplets of sweat to form on his forehead and Brody shifted from one foot to the other as his erection strained uncomfortably against its woolen barrier. Maybe going commando tonight wasn’t the smartest choice he could’ve made.

  When the bracelet was fastened, he took a step backwards and examined the vision before him. As exquisite as the silver charm bracelet was, it paled in comparison to the woman wearing it. A mass of sandy blonde curls gathered at the nape of her neck, leaving the creamy skin of her throat and shoulders exposed, but two loose curls hung freely down her back, brushing lightly against the soft thatch of skin between her shoulders. The empire dress—black, sheer, and strapless—hugged every inch of her luscious body, stopping just above her knees. A row of black glass beads lined the top of the dress and followed the curve of the neckline to where the fabric formed a V in the center of her chest. There was no doubt about it. Avery was absolutely stunning, and Brody, well, he was a goner.

  “Now I’m ready to go.” He smiled and took Avery by the hand, leading her in the direction of the elevators, but not before casually adjusting himself and saving her from the potential embarrassment of the neighbors seeing him at full salute.

  They rode the elevator in silence, each of them stealing a sidelong glance at the other when they thought they weren’t looking. The elevator slowed as it approached the lobby and Avery stole one last glance in his direction. Yes, his body was leaner and more muscular than before, and he wore his hair slightly different now, but standing before her was the same man she’d fallen for ages ago. Aside from the slight differences in his appearance, there was something very different about Brody’s demeanor, something Avery couldn’t quite put her finger on. Ignoring her curiosity—and the sudden urge to lean over and kiss him—she stepped out of the elevator and followed him through the lobby to the waiting car.