Pretty in Ink (Voretti Family Book 3)

by Ava Blackstone

  Mom beamed, clearly delighted that Mature Liv could be friendly with the cousin she’d had more than one screaming, hair-pulling fight with back in the day, and Liv’s stomach took a dive toward the wood-plank floor.

  “That sounds exciting,” Mom said. “Are you two going somewhere?”

  “Better!” Ella beamed. “Liv is going to be one of my bridesmaids.”

  “Actually, we haven’t totally figured out… I’m not sure if I’m really qualified to—”

  “This isn’t about qualifications,” Ella said, conveniently forgetting all of the bridesmaid prospects she’d vetoed minutes before. “This is about family.”

  Mom nodded solemnly.

  “Besides,” Ella said. “I know what you’re really worried about. You think the dresses are going to be some hideous Pepto-Bismol pink. But I’d never do that to my besties.” Ella kept blabbing about the dresses, and Liv’s parents kept smiling, and that stupid perfume must’ve been messing with Liv’s head because she couldn’t come up with a single decent excuse.

  She was going to have to be in Bridezilla’s wedding.

  Being Mature Liv wasn’t all sunshine and roses, but she’d suck it up. It was only one day. She could get through one—

  Something Ella was saying caught her attention. “Wait. What was that?”

  “I said, with the right bra, even you should be able to pull off a strapless dress.”

  “The bridesmaid dresses are strapless?” Her tattoo throbbed. She saw herself walking down the aisle in some frothy peach monstrosity. Her cousin Meg leaning into the aisle to get a better look at her arm. Turning to whisper something to her cousin Keira, who would pass it on to someone else, and so on, until the entire church was buzzing. Her dad’s eyes narrowing when she got close enough that he could read the cursive letters.

  “Uhm…yeah.” Ella said. “Have you heard a single word I said?”

  The smell of the braciole on her dad’s plate made her stomach turn. Of course the dresses were strapless. Ella had always had a singular talent for messing up everyone else’s life without even trying.

  “I’m sorry, Ella, but I don’t think I can do this. Peach isn’t my color, and I don’t want to look washed out and ruin all your pictures.”

  Ella’s brow knit as she considered the problem.

  “That’s what you’re worried about?” Mom said. “You look wonderful in peach. Remember your graduation pictures?”

  Crap. “That was really more of a coral.”

  “This is Ella’s big day, not yours. The important thing is to be up there, supporting her.” Mom turned to Ella. “We’re so happy you found Brandon.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Franny. And don’t worry, Liv. I have the most amazing blush. It’ll totally fix that washed-out look you get.”

  “Perfect.” Mom brushed her hands together in a gesture Liv knew all too well. Problem solved. “Weddings are the most wonderful thing. I can’t wait until Livvy finds The One.”

  “Don’t rush her, Francesca,” Dad admonished. “We don’t want another cafone.”

  Mom’s easy smile faded. “You’re right. She has plenty of time.”

  “I’m sure Liv will find someone.” Ella gave Liv the same sweet smile she’d used fifteen years ago, when she’d claimed Liv’s Barbie had accidentally landed in that pile of dog shit. “Eventually.”

  “I’m not looking for a boyfriend.” Shut up, Liv. Could you sound any more defensive? “I’m concentrating on my business.”

  “Yes. Of course.” Dad patted her arm. “You have your priorities straight now. Your business and your family.”

  “We can’t wait to see you standing next to Ella on her big day,” Mom chimed in.

  Liv took shallow breaths through her mouth to avoid the braciole smell. How had her perfect new life begun to unravel so quickly?

  “Come inside with me,” Ella said. “I need you to try on Annabelle’s dress so I know if it needs to be altered.”

  “Give it to me. I’ll do the alterations myself.” She’d make some kind of sleeve or a wrap. Bridezilla would freak out about the lack of symmetry in her wedding photos, but better that than Liv’s parents seeing the name of the man they hated inked onto her skin. They’d pull the loan, and bye bye Designs by Olivia.

  “That’s crazy.” Ella tugged her toward the house. “You can’t alter your own dress. That would be like a doctor operating on himself.”

  “Actually, it’s nothing like—”

  “Go with your cousin.” Mom gave her a not-so-gentle push. “It’s Ella’s big day.”

  Liv could see it all disappearing: the plush ottomans, the old-fashioned mirrors, the sumptuous fabrics.

  She caught a glimpse of Rafe as she stumbled forward, and her heart seized up. Where there was Rafe, there was Caleb, and that was the last thing she needed right now.

  Ella was moving fast, but Liv still got a good look as she passed her oldest brother. False alarm. He was alone.

  She might have to figure out how to try on a strapless dress without her nosy cousin glimpsing her tattoo, but at least she didn’t have to worry about running into Caleb.

  CHAPTER 5

  CALEB TURNED SIDEWAYS, squeezing through the narrow kitchen doorway with the oversized cooler in his arms. When the Voretti family got together, the amount of food consumed was second only to the amount of beer drunk. His job was to keep the cooler stocked, and he took it seriously.

  He positioned the cooler next to the refrigerator and opened the door, but before he could grab any of the chilled longnecks, he heard Liv. Everything stopped as her sweet, husky voice played in stereo inside his head.

  Get back to work, Ward.

  He started filling the cooler, but he couldn’t turn off the Liv soundtrack. Especially when her voice went loud, taking on that unmistakable tone that meant serious danger to whomever she was talking to. “Get your hands off me!”

  “Do you want to be a bridesmaid or not?” Ella’s voice was muffled, but as shrill as ever.

  He should finish refilling the cooler. That was his only responsibility. But after dinner last night, Rafe had filled him in on the loan Liv’s parents were giving her. He was proud of her for ditching CJ and getting her life back on track. He didn’t want her to do something stupid to jeopardize her new business venture. Something like taking out her cousin.

  Without making a conscious decision, Caleb found himself at the door to Ella’s childhood bedroom.

  “It’s called personal space!” Liv was shouting. “Back off.”

  “Hey.” He pushed the door open.

  Ella had both hands clamped onto Liv’s top, trying to drag it over her head. Liv seemed equally determined to keep the shirt on, but the struggle had taken its toll, baring one smooth shoulder.

  He dragged his gaze away, but the image was already burned into his brain. Pale skin, bisected by a black bra strap. Black lace.

  Caleb swallowed, commanding his brain not to fill in the remainder of the picture. It would be a colossally bad idea to imagine how the rest of that bra looked on Liv. The king of all bad ideas.

  “You are so immature!” Ella shouted, so wrapped up in the fight she hadn’t even registered his presence.

  “Yeah? Well, you’re a bitch!”

  Ella’s mouth opened in a feral screech. She yanked Liv’s shirt.

  Fabric ripped. He caught a glimpse of black ink curving around Liv’s arm, but then her hand clamped over the area, holding a scrap of the shirt to it like a bandage.

  But the bra. Holy shit, the bra.

  He needed to look away—to at least pretend to be a gentleman—but no force on earth could have dragged his gaze from those soft, full curves peeking over the top of the lace. His palms prickled like he was touching the delicate fabric, knowing that Liv’s soft skin was right under it.

  “See what you did?” Ella’s high-pitched shriek snapped him back into reality.

  “Caleb?” Liv was still clutching the scrap of cloth to her arm, looking small and
vulnerable—like, for once, she might actually want his help—and he started unbuttoning his shirt.

  He draped it over her shoulders and she wiggled into the sleeves, managing to cover her arms without giving him another glimpse of the tattoo.

  “Hello, hottie.” The nasal whine of Ella’s voice was more jarring than it should have been. “Been spending some time in the gym?”

  “What are you doing here?” Aaaand there was the Liv who spent all her free time plotting his murder.

  “Brandon is looking for you,” he told Ella. “Something about making a toast.”

  “What a sweetie,” Ella crooned. “But I really need Liv to try on her dress.” She motioned to a pile of peach lace and ruffles on the bed. It looked like something a Disney Princess might wear on Halloween. “There are only four more weeks until the wedding, so if it needs to be altered—”

  “Tell you what. I’ll personally make sure Liv gets a fitting at the bridal shop.” He took Ella by the arm, scooting her toward the door. “I have to go down there anyway to get my tux. And you shouldn’t have to worry about anything. This is your special day.”

  “You’re a sweetie too.” Ella kissed his cheek, smearing lip gloss everywhere. And then she was gone, leaving behind a cloud of noxious perfume.

  In the ensuing silence, Caleb was all too aware that he was alone with Liv. He was alone with Liv and she was wearing his shirt.

  “You and Ella are friendly.” Liv glared at him, and there went the fantasy where she was wearing his shirt because she’d just gotten out of his bed. “It’s not normal to be best buddies with women you’re not sleeping with. You know that, right?”

  “How about a little gratitude?” He swiped Ella’s lip gloss off his cheek.

  “For what? Ella was about to kick me out of the wedding party before you came along. Now I’m going to have to be a bridesmaid.”

  “So?” Liv hadn’t buttoned his shirt all the way. Every time she moved, he caught a glimpse of that bra, which was messing with his head.

  “So it’s going to ruin everything!” She stalked toward him, hand outstretched, index finger extended. “And it’s all your fault!” She jabbed him in the chest with one delicate finger, and he couldn’t look away. Couldn’t think of anything but her skin against his, sweet and hot and necessary.

  She swallowed. Her cheeks were red, and she was breathing hard.

  Because she wants to kick your ass, said the rational part of his brain. But the other part—the one that was wired to his dick—had the ridiculous idea that she might be turned on. That she’d closed the distance between them because she couldn’t stand to be so far away.

  Her lips parted.

  His vision tunneled until he couldn’t see anything else. They were soft and red and everything he’d ever wanted, and if she kissed him—

  “I don’t need your help. So stay out of my life, Captain Integrity.” She poked his chest again for emphasis, then pulled away, leaving him cold.

  He shoved the lust down, and anger surged in to take its place. He was pissed at himself for coming in here instead of refilling the cooler. Pissed at Liv for looking at him like she wanted his help. Pissed at his body for failing to understand that this was one woman he was never going to have. “Ella was right. You are immature.”

  “I’m immature? You’re the one staring down my shirt.”

  He was, damn it. “You don’t want my help? Fine. Give me my shirt back.”

  She sucked in a surprised breath, while he felt like the jerk he was. It wasn’t Liv’s fault he wanted her.

  “I’m sorry.” He squeezed his eyes shut. Forced that renegade desire so far down that he could almost forget it existed. “I didn’t mean—”

  The door swung open.

  He froze mid-sentence. Right in time to watch Liv’s parents walk inside.

  *

  Liv’s stomach dropped to the carpet and quivered. She was inches from Caleb’s bare chest, wearing his half-way unbuttoned shirt. Her parents were going to jump to the obvious conclusion, the same way they had when they’d barged into her sister’s apartment four months ago and found Annabelle in bed with Ty. Their voices were already screaming through her head.

  Olivia Marie Voretti!

  I’m disappointed in you.

  Is this the behavior of a mature businesswoman?

  Caleb would probably jump in there with them.

  She ignored the stab of hurt that thought generated. She didn’t care that Caleb saw her as an annoying little sister, forever frozen in time as an awkward thirteen-year-old. The only thing she was worried about was her loan, and how quickly her parents would take it away once Caleb filled them in on the tattoo.

  Except, Caleb hadn’t said a word. Neither had her parents. Why weren’t they yelling? Was her dad actually smiling?

  “This, uh, isn’t what it looks like,” she tried.

  “Of course not,” Dad said. Yep—definitely a smile.

  What the hell?

  “We didn’t see a thing.” Mom winked at Caleb, who looked like he wanted to curl into a ball, stuff himself behind the row of peach dresses lined up in Ella’s closet, and die.

  It was almost like her parents were happy to have caught her fooling around with a guy. But that didn’t make sense. The last time she’d made the mistake of telling her parents she was going on a date, they’d called her every hour to “check in.”

  That’s because you were with CJ. If you’d been with Caleb… The Annabelle voice in Liv’s head faded out, too circumspect to finish the sentence, but Liv already had the idea. She was lucky this wasn’t the seventeenth century, because if arranged marriage were still socially acceptable, her parents would be offering Captain Integrity all their goats in exchange for taking Liv off their hands. In their eyes, he was the perfect man—the solid, responsible, good citizen needed to counteract Liv’s flighty DNA. Even as Caleb tripped all over himself, trying to explain the shirt fiasco, they were probably imagining a pack of perfectly groomed grandchildren who would eat all of their vegetables, do extra credit homework for fun, and earn perfect scores on their SATs.

  She could rip Caleb’s shirt off right now and show them the tattoo, and they’d congratulate her on her wise decision instead of revoking her loan. It was too bad she hadn’t really hooked up with Caleb.

  Although…

  Absolutely not, said the Annabelle voice inside her head. Don’t even think about dragging him into this mess.

  “And then Liv’s shirt ripped.” Caleb was talking way too fast—Captain Integrity wasn’t used to being in this kind of a situation. “So I gave her mine.”

  Imaginary Annabelle gave a sigh of relief, secure in the knowledge that Caleb would never consent to be Liv’s boyfriend, fake or not.

  Liv wouldn’t be able to pull it off anyway. Pretending to be attracted to someone so vanilla for long enough to get the loan in place would be torture.

  Caleb was still talking, explaining every detail of shirt-gate so her parents wouldn’t get the wrong idea, gesturing with his hands to emphasize key phrases. The movements caused a ripple effect in the rest of his body, muscles tensing and releasing, each minute shift on display thanks to his bare torso.

  He might be vanilla, but he was seriously hot. And when he’d been so close to her right before her parents had barged in, emotion swirling dark in his eyes, he hadn’t looked like his cool, Captain Integrity self. He’d looked like he was thinking about taking her, hard, against the wall.

  And, for a second, she’d wanted him to.

  “You know how Liv and Ella get sometimes.” Caleb was still trying to explain away shirt-gate. “I don’t think Ella meant to tear her shirt, but…”

  “Like hell she didn’t,” Liv muttered.

  “What?” Mom asked.

  “Uh…” She had to force the words out of her throat. “I’m sure Caleb is right. Ella got a little…overly excited. That’s all.”

  Mom beamed. “I’m glad you can look at this from your cou
sin’s perspective. Caleb is a good influence. This is exactly the kind of healthy relationship your father and I always wanted for you.”

  Captain Integrity’s eyes widened in alarm, and, maybe it proved Liv’s immaturity, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mess with him.

  “Caleb is a wonderful influence.” She added a demure smile, like modesty prevented her from continuing.

  “I’m not…” Caleb cleared his throat. “Liv and I, we really don’t have a relationship. Well, we’re friends. Of course we’re friends. But it doesn’t go beyond that.”

  “We understand, son.” Dad clapped Caleb on the back. “We’ll give the two of you some privacy. To continue your friendly discussion.”

  “That’s okay,” Caleb said. “We don’t need—”

  The click of the door shutting behind her parents echoed in the small room. She was alone with Caleb. Again.

  Tension filled the small space like it was the last five minutes of a Design Divas timed challenge. Caleb was so determined not to look at her that he was studying Ella’s old Barbie collection on the top shelf of the bookcase.

  Liv tried for a laugh, but it came out flat. “My parents couldn’t get out of here fast enough. It’s a good thing the door only locks on the inside, or they’d have us bolted in here until I was pregnant with twins.”

  Caleb’s whispered curse was so vehement, it might as well have been a shout.

  She shook off the twinge of hurt. He’d never thought she was good enough for him, and he never would. Move along, Liv. Nothing new to see here. “Relax, Captain Integrity. It was a joke. They’re not going to come after us with shotguns and force us to the altar.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Then what is the point?”

  “These are people that I respect. That I’d like to respect me.”

  “And a relationship with me puts that in jeopardy?” She’d meant her voice to come out breezy and unconcerned, but it wobbled at the end, and suddenly Caleb was tripping all over himself with justifications. That hadn’t been what he’d meant. She’d misunderstood. Any man would be lucky to be in a relationship with her. Only…you know. Not him.