by Haley Travis
Inking Up Love
Insta Love Shy Girl Romance #4
By Haley Travis
Copyright 2020 Haley Travis. All rights reserved. Cover design by Lexie Renard.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted or duplicated in any form whatsoever without express written permission of the author. This book is intended for sale to adults only. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual people or specific locations or details is completely coincidental, or intended fictitiously. All characters are over 18, no sex partners are related, all sex is consensual. This is fantasy. In the real world, everyone practices safe sex at all times. Right? Right.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Series
Chapter One - Grant
Chapter Two - Leah
Chapter Three - Grant
Chapter Four - Leah
Chapter Five - Grant
Chapter Six - Leah
Chapter Seven - Grant
Chapter Eight - Leah
Chapter Nine - Grant
Epilogue - Leah
Other Stories & About the Author
***
Enjoy more of the “ Up Love - Insta Love Shy Girl Romance ” Series.
#1 - Icing up Love
When a cake decorator meets a former hockey player,
the icing meets the ice in a whirlwind fast romance.
#2 - Packing Up Love
When a moving man falls for a damsel in distress,
his overprotective urges are too heavy for a girl labeled, “Fragile”.
#3 - Snapping Up Love
Will an event photographer keep his focus when the perfect model steps into his life?
#4 - Inking Up Love
Can a tattoo artist keep his hands steady when the girl of his dreams walks in the door?
#5 - Snipping Up Love
When a billionaire visits a new hair stylist,
‘a little off the top’ becomes ‘over the top’ in an instant romance.
CHAPTER ONE
* Grant *
Working at a tattoo shop for many years, then opening my own with a business partner, it became a club. A team. A brotherhood, with plenty of sisters as well. We become a family, all up in each other’s business all the time.
So as I was sketching a design for a client, and our counter girl Penny said that it was Janice on the phone for me, I simply had to shoot a look and a shake of my head for her to inform the caller that I was busy.
The women I dated knew that I rarely checked my own phone, and the only way to get hold of me was to call the shop. I practically lived here. Since there was a new girl every few months, the rest of the gang assumed I was some kind of womanizing player.
But I wasn’t. And I’m not sure why I kept it from them. I rarely went on more than one date with a girl, and it certainly wasn’t about sowing my wild oats or any of that crap. If I didn’t feel a real connection, there was no point in stringing her along. I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time. And I could never be dishonest with a woman. I always said goodbye after we didn’t connect, and didn’t imply I would call again.
I wasn’t looking for a fling or a short relationship. I didn’t see the point. I’d rather spend my days alone, enjoying the company of my friends, then waste anyone’s time pretending that she was the one.
“Hey, Grant,” Penny called over to me. I looked up from my sketches, as she tilted her head toward the young lady with long dark hair browsing the flash art in the waiting area. “She has some questions.”
People often came into the shop to look around, think about the art they might like, and kill some time. Some people asked questions for years before actually getting any ink done. We were used to it, and all took turns being patient with the newbies.
Walking out to the lobby, I realized that I towered over the girl, so I kept my distance. She was staring at the section of photos full of vibrant floral artwork I’d done last summer. She reached out toward one photo, her fingers dancing along the edge, nearly touching it as if she were trying to memorize it.
“Hey there,” I said, realizing too late that my deep voice boomed in the quiet room. “Can I help you?”
She jumped, then turned and looked up at me, instantly taking a step back. But I couldn’t stop myself from taking a step forward.
I nearly fell to my knees as her eyes met mine. They were the color of a lake before a storm. Her delicate skin had the slightest kiss of sunshine across her nose and cheeks, complete with a few tiny freckles. And I couldn’t think of a single thing beyond kissing those rosy lips.
Usually, I glanced at women and divided them into two categories. Ninety-nine percent were just nice, normal people. One percent were sexy ladies that I’d keep an eye on while they were near me.
This girl was in a completely different realm. I couldn’t even ogle her properly, that just wouldn’t be right. She was above that. Her gentle, womanly curves were sensually enticing, but her girlish face was so sweetly adorable.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” I said softly, trying to lower my volume. “Is there something you’re looking for?”
She nodded, but then sort of shook her head. “I guess so. My friend is talking me into getting a tattoo to mark the new year, and sort of, as a symbol of new energy.” Her sweet voice was gentle and clear.
But I frowned. “I don’t like the way you said your friend is trying to talk you into it. Do you really want to get a tattoo?”
Her sleeves were pulled down past her hands, as she gripped the fabric, clenching it nervously. “I don’t know. I like the thought of it, but it’s scary.” Then she looked up at me, quickly adding, “But they’re really beautiful. I like the artwork.”
I chuckled. “Sweetie, you can’t offend me. It’s not for everyone, and that’s okay. But you can’t get something permanent if you don’t really want it. That would be a bad way to start off the new year.”
She nodded. I realized that I couldn’t let her leave. I had to keep her talking so that I could try to figure her out.
“What if we just imagined for a moment that you were positive you wanted one, just for fun?” I said as gently as I could. “What sort of artwork do you think you might like, and where would you place it?”
Her stormy blue-gray eyes flashed up to mine with a brilliant smile. “I really like these flowers. The realism mixed with the streaks of cloudy watercolor is amazing.”
My wide chest puffed up a bit more. “Thanks. Those are mine.”
“Really?”
I grinned. “You thought those were done by a woman, didn’t you?” She looked away quickly. “It’s okay,” I laughed. “I know I look like a big scary biker dude who wouldn’t fuss around with pretty flowers. Don’t worry, I also draw the hell out of skulls and daggers.”
She looked up at me and laughed out loud. Something about that sweet noise, her exquisite eyes, and her shy smile completely did me in. I was smitten.
Holding out my hand, I said, “I’m Grant, by the way. Your imaginary tattoo artist for the day.”
She laughed again, putting her tiny hand in mine, and marking the monumental first second that I touched the girl of my dreams. I held her hand as if it were made of glass.
“Leah,” she said softly.
“Well, Leah, if you were to get a flower tattoo, where would you place it?” I had to keep her talking, hoping that she’d spend just a bit more time with me.
She looked back up at the photos, thinking. Part of me realized that if she did decide to get a piece, my hands would be on her skin for at least an hour. It was hard to hide the shudder that ran through me at that thought.
CHAPTER TWO
* Leah *
My friend Alison h
ad been demanding that I do something big to kick the new year off with a fresh start. It drove her nuts that I was so quiet and reserved, and she thought that I was too timid about life in general. Somehow she had her mind set on me getting a tattoo as a symbol of doing something scary and living through it.
My life was a bit plain for a reason. I didn’t like being rattled with nerves, so I was careful to stick to things that I knew. But she was right that it was time for a few tiny changes. I couldn’t spend my entire life saving every penny and not knowing why, and studying art but rarely going out to galleries or events. I knew I was a bit uptight, but it was never too late to change.
I came into the shop the day before her appointment just to see if it really made me nervous. The buzzing hum of the tattoo needles was a bit weird, but not as frightening as I’d expected.
Most of the artists were covered in tattoos, which made sense. The burly man towering over me had fascinating artwork winding down his thick arms.
My hand had felt so tiny in his, and the warm, rough touch of his skin had sent a little twinkle of heat straight through me. I’d never been this attracted to a man before. But he was so big, with such a booming deep voice, that he also made me nervous.
His dark eyes were unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Somehow there was so much emotion in each glance. It was as if he were trying to pick up clues and solve the mystery of why I was standing near him. For the first time in my life, I enjoyed being stared at.
If I did decide to get a tattoo, and he was the one to do it, that meant I would be under his control, his hands on me for the entire time. It was difficult not to blush simply from the thought of that.
He was looking at me expectantly, and I had to think of something to say. “I’d have to put it somewhere I could hide it for work,” I said quickly.
“Where do you work?”
“I’m an accountant down at Bay and Bloor. You know, the land of corporate suits. So I have to look the part.”
He nodded, and I felt like he honestly wasn’t judging me at all. I knew that some of my artsy friends thought I was uptight and corporate because of where I worked.
“No problem. That just means nothing on your arms or legs. Or at least, the lower leg.” He raised an eyebrow. “I assume you don’t wear micro-mini skirts at the office.”
I giggled, and realized with shock that I was actually able to chat with this strange man. It was fascinating. There was something about him that made me feel a pull toward him. It wasn’t just that he was sexy as hell. There was something in the way he looked at me that drove me wild.
“No,” I said. I spoke a bit louder so that he could hear me clearly over the buzzing in the back of the shop. “My office is full of nice people, but they’re all pretty straitlaced.”
“We all have our little secrets,” Grant said with a wide smile. “If you had a flower on your hip, or your side, they would never see it.”
Then he gave me a strange look as if he were analyzing me. “Some girls get them at the top of their thigh, or on their asses, but that just doesn’t seem right for you. If I were to make a suggestion,” he said, holding out his hand, “Right here might be a nice spot on your body.”
His fingertips were circling the area between my hip bone and where my waist dipped in slightly. The lower side part of my stomach. For a few seconds, I completely forgot how to breathe. He drew one last circle around the area with his index finger, then pulled away. “It’s a spot that is sensual, but not overtly sexy. Do you know what I mean?”
I hoped that I wasn’t blushing. His light touch had sent waves of desire deeper than I’d ever felt before.
“I’m not trying to say that you aren’t sexy,” he said quickly, “Just that you seem like more of a classy girl.”
“How large do people usually get these flowers?” I asked quickly, obviously changing the subject. He seemed relieved that I wasn’t offended.
“It depends where on the body, of course,” he said. “But if you were getting it on your side there…” He reached out to make a circle with his fingers the size of a bagel, holding the shape onto me as he visualized. “I’d say about that big. Some people get tiny little things for their first tattoo, and that’s fine. But if you’re planning on only getting a few special pieces, you want to have a bit of impact.”
I nodded. “I could see that.”
My body was leaning into his touch, where his hands were still on my stomach and side. Looking up at him, I saw a glimmer of shock in his eyes as he snatched his hands away.
“Sorry,” he said gently. “I’m so used to having my hands all over people, you know how it is.”
“Well, I don’t, but I could imagine.”
He chuckled, such a deep rumbling noise as he led me over to the couch. I saw that the receptionist was giving Grant a strange look, but he was ignoring her completely.
“You said that you’re coming in tomorrow with your friend? Do you know what she’s getting done?”
“Her appointment is with you, actually,” I said. “She’s getting the colors on a butterfly changed from pink to purple.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “That’s right, she sent me a photo. I remember doing that one, I think. She wanted a super light baby pink, but the undertone of her skin has a bit more yellow then she realized. I told her she’d be better off leaving that section without filling it in completely, with just a bit of pink shadow, but she wouldn’t listen.” He shrugged.
“That must be hard for you,” I said, feeling my head tip to the side as I thought about it. “You’re creating your art, your illustrations, but you also have to do precisely what the client wants. Even if you know better, and even if you’d rather do something else completely.”
His dazzling smile made me lean toward him more. This odd pull to him was completely bizarre.
“It’s interesting that you think of that. Some artists feel that way, to be honest. But I never have. I think tattoos are a personal statement, and although it’s often helpful if you listen to your artist and take their advice into consideration, the body wearing the art has the final say in the art.” He shrugged. “Just my opinion of course.”
His eyes dropped from mine to stare at my lips for a moment, before flicking up again. “Unless of course that body isn’t ready for any artwork at all.” Grant grinned. “But I hope you’ll come back tomorrow anyway.”
I nodded. “Alison is really… Let’s say pushy. I know she means well, and she’s a good friend, but she can have very strong opinions that she tries to shove on to me.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, patting my knee for just a second. “If she tries to talk you into getting a flaming skull inked across your forehead, I’ll try to stop her.”
I’ve never laughed this much with a stranger before. It was like being in an alternate universe where I was able to speak and enjoy him flirting with me. Or at least, being open.
“Grant, your three o’clock is here,” the receptionist said, waving to a young man who had apparently walked into the shop without either of us noticing.
Grant held out his hand to me again. “Leah, if something happens and you don’t come in tomorrow, please tell me you’ll come back anyway sometime so that we can talk about art.”
I nodded, then left in a hurry as he went to greet his client. As I walked home, I realized a couple of extremely important things. I finally admitted that Alison was pushy, and I needed to calm her down sometimes. I was not ready to get a tattoo. I did want to learn a lot more about it, mostly so that I had an excuse to talk to Grant some more. It was rare that I had a chance to discuss art with anyone.
Wow. Grant. My mind swirled in a bizarre vortex of curiosity and desire. I’d never felt so exhilarated around a man before.
It was incredible.
CHAPTER THREE
* Grant *
I couldn’t stop thinking about that sweet dark-haired girl who was not only too shy to tell her friend to back off, but so sweet and open that
she’d discuss tattoo art with a strange man for a while.
I desperately tried to think of something that we might have in common so that I could make some excuse to see her again, past her friend’s tattoo appointment this afternoon. But she hadn’t said anything at all about herself other than the fact that she was an accountant.
That posed a bit of a problem, to be honest. If she was conservative and straitlaced, and didn’t want to be seen with a tattooed man who looked a lot closer to a robber than a banker, things might not work out between us.
But I wanted them to. I’d never felt such a magnetic pull toward another person in my life.
Perhaps I could invite her to an art show. I shook my head in frustration, almost laughing to myself as I opened the shop.
We had only been in this location for two years now, but my partner Jeremy and I were doing pretty well. We had brought the very best staff with us from other places where we used to work, and we had enough artists with a diverse array of styles.
It was important for us to foster a sense of community in our shop. If someone wanted perfect script lettering, I probably wouldn’t take the job myself, I would ask them to make an appointment with Lenore. And if Robbie, our stonework and heavy metal expert ended up chatting to a client who wanted birds, butterflies, or flowers, he’d send them to me.
Instead of being greedy and territorial, the entire team made sure that every single client ended up with the best possible art.
But instead of transferring a job to a better qualified artist, here I was turning a girl down completely. It was both ridiculous and hilarious.
Even though we opened at eleven, it felt like three days had gone past by the time Leah came in the door at two-thirty with a petite blonde girl.
I jumped up, rushing to shake their hands. “Alison, Leah, nice to see you both. Come on in.”
