Inked Nights: A Montgomery Ink Novella

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  She moved to walk around him, and because he knew he was a big dude and tended to crowd people even when he didn’t mean to, he took a step out of the way so she could grab her bag.

  “So this is it? I tell you my name, and now you’re done. Because I thought what we had was good.”

  “It was good. But now, our time is over. Don’t you think we should move on? Find something that’s not…this? What we are. We’re not getting any younger.”

  If he didn’t hear the emotion in her voice, didn’t hear the fact that she sounded as if she were about to fucking cry, he’d have called her cold. But she was leaving for a reason, and she apparently wasn’t going to tell him what that was.

  And he had no idea what to do to find out.

  Fuck.

  “At least tell me your name. That’s all I ask.” It’s all he could ask for, though not all he wanted to request.

  She met his eyes again, and this time, he swore he should have known more just from that look alone, but he knew he was missing something.

  “Olivia.”

  He let out a breath. He should have known she’d be an Olivia. The name fit her perfectly, but he still didn’t know why she was leaving.

  “I’m coming back next month,” he said quickly. “Even if you aren’t here, I’m coming back. Because I like what we have and I don’t want it to end.”

  “But we have to stop,” she whispered.

  Have to. Not want to. But she wasn’t going to tell him why. Didn’t matter if he deserved an answer, he wasn’t going to get one.

  Then she went on her toes, kissed his jaw, and walked out of the hotel room, leaving him standing naked, cold, and shocked to his core.

  He finally knew her name, and now she was gone. Maybe forever.

  And he had no idea what the fuck he was going to do about it.

  Derek punched the bag in front of him, pissed off and muttering to himself, low enough that the rest of the gym couldn’t hear him.

  “That wasn’t our bargain,” he growled with another punch. Anger coursed through his veins, and he forced himself to keep his form so he wouldn’t hurt himself. His hands were his business, and screwing them up because he was angry and hurt would only piss him off more.

  He’d left the hotel soon after Olivia, making sure he picked up all their things. She hadn’t even left a single earring behind when she’d run like the hounds of hell were on her tail. He’d checked out of the room, ignoring the knowing look from the overnight clerk that he hadn’t met before. Then, he’d gone home and tossed and turned all night, thinking of what he could have done differently.

  He liked O, Olivia, wanted to know more about her. He liked their relationship, or whatever it was they had. He liked knowing that once a month he’d go to the hotel where he first met her, and they’d have each other for those few short hours. She was not only the best sex he’d ever had, but he also liked her smile, her laugh, and the way her eyes danced when they flirted.

  And while part of him had always wanted to know more about her, he also liked the safe distance they kept between the two of them. Their deal had been the longest relationship he’d ever had. The fact that he hadn’t had another person in his life over the last four years might have been because of her, or it might have been because of his own issues. He had enough on his plate without adding someone with strings and commitments who would need to rely on him for things he couldn’t give.

  And yet he’d been able to commit in his own weird way when it came to Olivia.

  He’d shown up every month for four goddamn years, and she’d always been there. It had been the healthiest, longest commitment he’d ever made, and yet it hadn’t actually been a commitment at all.

  And then she’d just walked away because she was done.

  He couldn’t help but blame himself. He must have done something, said something. Maybe telling her his name had made it all too real. Maybe she’d needed the fantasy more than he had. He didn’t know, but now, all he could do was hope to hell that she showed up next month.

  He had a feeling that these next four weeks would be hell on his nerves.

  “Hell.” He let his fist fly one last time before hitting the showers. He usually worked out after work so his hands weren’t sore, but he’d been stressed out and needed some form of release that didn’t have anything to do with his fist wrapped around his dick.

  By the time he headed into work and parked behind the shop in their tiny private lot, he was still on edge and knew his friends and coworkers weren’t going to let him get out of telling them what was on his mind.

  The problem with working at Montgomery Ink was that everyone was not only great at what they did, but they were also close enough to be family. And while only two were family by blood, the rest had enough connections that they always knew when something was up with one of the others.

  Derek himself had been on the offering end of that help over the years. When his friends had needed assistance in their love lives or had needed someone to talk to, he’d been there. Somehow, he’d found the right words and had been one of the steady forces in the shop.

  And now he had a feeling that as soon as he walked in, he wouldn’t be able to hide his frustration or whatever else was wrong with him thanks to O.

  Olivia.

  Jesus, he needed to get her out of his head and only think about her in four weeks when he hoped to hell she showed up. Maybe she’d just gotten scared about knowing more about him, but neither of them had missed a night in four years, and he hoped that they wouldn’t start now despite what she’d said. Because she hadn’t given him a real reason, and maybe that meant she didn’t have one.

  Maybe she’d come back.

  And maybe he was an idiot and needed to get over this woman he didn’t know as well as he probably should have.

  Any hope of hiding his reactions to the previous night ended as soon as he walked in and found one of his bosses leaning against the front desk, her pierced brow raised as she got a look at him.

  “Why do you look like you were hung up wet and left to dry?” Maya asked as she tapped her finger on the desk.

  Derek would have flipped her off, but then she’d really know something was wrong. Instead, he just gave her a slow blink and went back to his station. She snorted, and he had a feeling there was no way he’d get out of whatever conversation she wanted to have, but first, he hoped he’d at least be able to get his workstation set up.

  Montgomery Ink was one of—if not the—hottest tattoo shops in Denver. Most of the artists, including him, had waiting lists over a year long. His bosses, siblings Austin and Maya, were even opening up another shop down in Colorado Springs with their cousins, who would own the building and run the place from there. Derek had no clue how talented and business-savvy the crew was until he found himself working with some of the best in the tattooing world.

  There had even been talk of a reality series following the crew around, but Austin and Maya had been quick to shut that down. Their family was a large one, and they’d all been through hell over the past few years. Now, all eight siblings were either married or on their way to being hitched, and most of them had children. They just wanted to settle down and do what they loved. In fact, almost every member of Montgomery Ink, even those without the Montgomery surname, was married and planning a family.

  Only Derek and Brandon were left, but he had a feeling from what had happened a couple of days ago at the shop when that stranger who didn’t seem to be a stranger to his friend had shown up, that Brandon wouldn’t be single for long.

  That left Derek. The guy who had all the advice because he’d been through a lot in his life, but the one who didn’t have a wife or girlfriend of his own.

  And that meant that everyone would want to help him. They’d already tried setting him up on dates or asking what his type of woman was, and he’d done his best to put a stop to that. Now, though, with his lack of sleep and genuine confusion over what had happened the night before with Ol
ivia, he had no idea what he was going to do.

  Sighing, he went to work getting ready for his first client of the day. They didn’t open for another hour, so he had time to set up and get a cup of coffee from the café next door. However, before he could even get up to go over there, Sloane, the artist next to him, who happened to be married to the café owner next door, pulled up a seat beside Derek, a hazelnut latte in his hand.

  Derek’s favorite.

  Hailey, Sloane’s wife, knew everyone’s drink order—their favorites or if they were in the mood for something different—without having to ask. It was spooky, and yet he loved it.

  However, if Sloane was here with the drink, that meant that Maya had already told Hailey that something was up, and they were starting with the big guns—literally in Sloane’s case since the man was built like a brick shithouse.

  “Thanks.”

  Sloane grunted. “I don’t talk about feelings. But you look like shit, and we have time to talk. So, spill.”

  Maya, who stood behind Sloane, cracked up. “Smooth.”

  Sloane shrugged. “We open soon, and there’s no time for beating around the bush.”

  “I like the way you think,” Austin said from Maya’s other side. The shop had filled when Derek was setting up. Austin, Blake, Maya, Sloane, Callie, Brandon, and Jax were all there, watching.

  The shop hadn’t been this full in a while since they usually didn’t work all at once, but now that they’d remodeled a bit, there was more room. However, this meant that every single artist was staring at him.

  “What?” he finally said.

  “Don’t ‘what’ us,” Maya put in. “You look sad. And, usually, when you go out for your date or whatever the hell you call it, you come back looking all lubed up.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Austin muttered under his breath, and the rest of the crew laughed.

  “Lubed up?” Derek asked.

  “It’s true,” Maya said.

  Then Maya’s words caught up with him. “Wait. How the hell do you know about my dates?”

  “You got drunk and mentioned it to Sloane once,” Callie said. She grinned at him through her multicolored hair, and he wanted to close his eyes and growl.

  Sloane had the decency to wince. “And then I mentioned it to Hailey since I was also drunk and forgot to tell her not to tell Maya.”

  “And now that I know, the people who matter know because we love you and want you happy. But why aren’t you happy?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You aren’t,” Jax put in. He was their newest artist but had fit in quickly.

  “I’ll be fine. How’s that?”

  “Why don’t you just tell us what’s up and then we can move on?” Austin said quickly, clearly ready for this conversation to be done. As Derek wanted the same and knew he couldn’t get out of it, he decided he’d just get it over with. He had no idea what he was doing, after all; maybe they could help.

  “I met a girl a few years ago. A woman. We’re having fun. Or we were. We meet up once a month at the same place, have a good night, and don’t talk to or see each other until the next month. No names, no numbers, nothing is shared except the experience. It’s nice. It’s different. She’s nice. She’s different. But now she says she doesn’t want to do it anymore, and I have no idea what’s going on. I’m still going to show up next month, you know. Because I can’t just let it end, but it’s not like I know what to do other than that.”

  He hadn’t realized he’d blurted it all out until he looked up and the crew was staring at him like he’d grown another head. Maybe he had because he sure as hell didn’t feel like himself just then.

  “I have more questions, but we don’t have time for explanations of why and how,” Callie put in. “But do you like her? Do you want to see her more than just the one night a month? Because if you do, find her.”

  “I can’t find her. That was the whole point of our arrangement.”

  “Then wait for a month and see if she shows up,” Sloane said. “Just don’t stalk her or some shit and be that creepy asshole we have to beat up.”

  “Amen,” Brandon and Jax said at the same time before smirking at each other.

  “I’m not going to fucking stalk her. But I want to know why she wants to end it. Does she want more and think I don’t? Did she find someone else? I want to know why, and I don’t want to wait, but I think I have to.”

  “Do you have a photo of her?” Maya asked. “Maybe we know her. We know a lot of people.”

  Derek gave her a dry look. “We live in Denver, not some Podunk town. I don’t think you know her.”

  “At least let us see,” Callie pleaded. “If you have a pic that is.”

  “I have one,” he mumbled and dug out his phone. They each had one photo of each other, though it hadn’t been part of their terms. He hadn’t been able to help himself and looked at the damn thing often. She was wearing just a sheet, but you couldn’t tell unless you knew and he was glad about that. The look in her eyes, the parting of her lips was just for him.

  And now he was going to share her, at least this small part of her, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. But he wasn’t sure he could hold back if he wanted to find her.

  He flipped his phone around, and while the guys grinned, Callie and Maya gave each other cats in cream looks. And then Austin cursed under his breath.

  “What?” Derek asked. “You know her?” There was no way that could be true, no way fate could be that kind to him after all the kicks and wounds it had given him over the years.

  “Yeah, I know her. That’s Olivia. My neighbor.” Austin shook his head. “Has to mean something, man.”

  Derek just sat there, pulling his phone back so he could look at her again. Did it? Did it mean something? Because if she were truly Austin’s neighbor, then maybe he had a second chance.

  Or maybe everything had been doomed from the start, and he needed to give her the space she wanted. But what he did know was that it wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

  Fate seemed to be on his side for once, and he wasn’t going to let that go. Not this time.

  Not again.

  Chapter Three

  Olivia had a headache from hell, and she only wished it had been from drinking the night before. As she tended not to drink while she was home since she wasn’t a huge fan of drinking alone, that meant her pain came from work stress and lack of sleep.

  It had been two days since she’d last seen Derek, her D, and she couldn’t get him off her mind. Hell, she hadn’t been able to get him off her mind for over twenty years when he was her Derek, and then again for four more years as her D. How was she supposed to not think of him at all when he was both?

  “Ugh.” She ran her hand down her face, willing her mind to stay on the correct subject rather than one she should have pushed into the secret vault of her mind long ago. If only Derek hadn’t said his name, if only she hadn’t noticed his eyes in just the right light when he said it, she might not have put everything together. Honestly, she didn’t know how she hadn’t realized who he was for so long, but it must have been for a reason. Her mind and memories had given her a reprieve only to come back full force and slap her in the face with vicious taunts and accusations.

  It didn’t matter that those jabs were from her and not Derek. They were still there no matter what, and she couldn’t forget about them.

  Damn it. She had work to do, a person to forget, and a life to try and get through. Dwelling on a man she couldn’t see again, a man she wouldn’t see again, wouldn’t help anything.

  But it didn’t mean that her mind was actually going to let that happen. She was Olivia, after all, the person who fixated on one thing and worried herself to the point of exhaustion and confusion over it.

  “I need to work,” she whispered to herself, aware that if anyone were home with her, they’d think she was talking to herself. The fact that she was actually talking to herself was of no consequence. She was a freelance editor. She always
talked to herself. And if that wasn’t a ringing endorsement for her sanity and her services, she didn’t know what was.

  With a sigh, she opened her document and tried to get into the moment of the book. Her current project was content editing the first book in a new romance trilogy, and she was already in love with the story. This was her third time working with this particular author, and they were starting to really create a routine.

  Of course, even as she said that, she did her best not to cringe at the note she had to write. The author had decided to kill a momma cat in order to bring the vet heroine and the grumpy hero together. It totally made sense and was well done, but Olivia knew that one of the rules in romance was that you didn’t kill the pets. Her rules started with an HEA, so no killing heroes or heroines and no cheating. And then the pet rule.

  Olivia hoped the author would be up for changing that aspect because she didn’t want this author’s readers to get upset and put her on a list, and now she kind of hated herself for even putting the note in at all. The scene was done perfectly and worked with the book, but…there were rules.

  Rules.

  Of course, there were rules. There were for everything. And Olivia had broken all of them where Derek and D were concerned.

  Yes, she was thinking of them as two different people since she had different guidelines for each of them, but now they were all mixed up in her mind, and she thought she might be sick. No wonder her brain hurt.

  Olivia sipped her coffee, wincing since it was cold, but she was too lazy to get up and make another cup. That and she was a firm believer that if she made it, she had to drink it, cool or not. Hence why she drank caramel coffee because it tasted better cold than regular coffee and she tended to get lost in work or her thoughts enough that cold coffee was part of her daily routine.

  She had a few more hours on this content edit and then she could send it back to the author before starting her next project, which was a copyedit since she was certified in that, too. She liked switching between the two so her brain could stay fresh for the next round, and she was grateful that her job let her work from home while she did it. She’d fallen into the gig, and she loved it.