Abiding Ink (Inked in the Steel City #4)

by Ranae Rose

  * * * * *

  “So Tyler, how’s it going?” Karen, Jed’s girlfriend, appeared just outside the wall of Tyler’s tattoo booth.

  Something shiny fluttered down, landing on the tile.

  “Oops,” she said. “Sorry.”

  He rose from his chair and bent to pick it up. “What’s this?”

  “An invitation.”

  Tyler stared down at what was clearly a gingerbread man made from brown construction paper, complete with glitter-glue decorations.

  “I was hanging out with Abby and her niece helped me make those,” Karen explained. “The info is on the back.”

  “Jed’s Christmas party,” Tyler said, scanning the Allegheny West address that had been penned on the back of the card. The invitation was no surprise – the owner of the Hot Ink Tattoo Studio threw casual Christmas and New Year’s get-togethers for the Hot Ink staff every year. The occasion was nothing new, although this was the first time Tyler had ever received a physical invitation, let alone a glitter-encrusted one. Usually Jed just told everyone when the party would start.

  Karen nodded. “New Year’s Eve. You’ll be able to make it, right?”

  “Yeah. Wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Okay, great. And don’t forget… You’re welcome to bring a date.” She winked at him and spun on one heel, her auburn ponytail whirling behind her like a helicopter blade.

  “Hey James…” She moved on to the next booth, and Tyler stared down at the flimsy gingerbread man she’d left him with.

  A date… Tyler’s thoughts turned immediately to Mallory. He’d volunteered at the hospital earlier that day, but hadn’t seen her – it’d been her day off. She’d told him yesterday she wouldn’t be there. Not that that had stopped him from thinking about her all day. Truth was, he was still in shock over the fact that she’d asked him to go to Dr. Creepster’s party with her. It’d been the last thing he’d been expecting, and she’d left him gaping over his cart like a dumbass, unable to believe his luck.

  He must’ve read her all wrong – it was the only explanation. Then again, he’d never considered himself an expert on divining the secret thoughts of women. Still, as his mind filled with visions of her bombshell figure, teasing eyes and glossy lips, he wanted to try – wanted to understand what Mallory wanted.

  Sure, sometimes women came on to him, and when they did, it was usually pretty clear what they wanted – nothing much, in the long run. Most women who were interested seemed to see him more in terms of a prospect for a little short term fun, nothing lasting. He wasn’t the kind of guy women schemed to snare in holy matrimony – ladies saved that sort of ingenuity for men like Dr. Creepster.

  But that wasn’t really what Mallory had done. She’d asked him to be her date at a party – a work party. Something where all her colleagues and peers would see her with him, would meet him beneath the all-revealing glow of Christmas lights. What Mallory had asked was exactly the opposite of an adventurous female client trying to talk him into a quickie on Hot Ink’s waiting couch after hours.

  Not that he’d ever taken anyone up on that particular invitation. Even if he’d been interested, what those girls hadn’t realized was that Jed had lived in the apartment above the shop and probably would’ve killed Tyler with his bare hands if he’d gone and contaminated the leather couch with any sort of bodily fluids.

  Anyway, Mallory seemed classy. He could imagine her on that couch – naked – but only because of his own depravity. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t be willing to hop into his tattoo chair in the first place, let alone out of it and into his arms, granting him access to her freshly-inked body. The fantasy was something that would keep him awake at night though – an almost painful tightening in the vicinity of his jeans was enough to tell him that.

  She was beautiful. She’d asked him on a date. And he’d be damned if he had the faintest idea of what she’d been thinking.

  * * * * *

  “Hey, sweetie.” Mallory’s mother was waiting when she opened the door, and pulled her straight into a hug.

  “Wow, mom, you’re in a good mood.” Mallory leaned into the embrace, surprised by her mother’s uncharacteristic cheer. “Did something exciting happen while I was out?”

  “I talked to your brother and sister on the phone. They both said they’re planning to spend all day here on Christmas. I thought you and I could start planning the menu now – a traditional dinner with all the trimmings. Something special.”

  “Sure. I’ve actually already got some recipes set aside. But didn’t they already promise to visit on Christmas?” She’d been planning on celebrating with her brother and sister for the past few weeks, at least.

  “Well, they said they’d stop by, but until today I wasn’t sure if they’d stay for dinner and everything.”

  “Why not?”

  “Oh, you know.” Her mother’s euphoric expression faded, giving way to a frown. “I thought maybe they’d want to rush out of here and go spend the day with your father.”

  Mallory’s heart sank. “Mom…”

  “Guess I was wrong.” Her mother’s smile crept slowly back into place. “I’ll have the three of you to myself for a whole day. I can’t wait.”

  Gripped by silent panic, Mallory cast her gaze around the kitchen, searching for something – anything – to change the subject. She felt so awkward – so useless – when her mother brought up her father. Every time it happened, she ached to say or do something to make it all better, but she had no idea what that something could be. She knew very well that the pain of her father’s betrayal hadn’t faded from her mother’s heart, and the void he’d left wasn’t one a daughter could fill. And she hated that – hated that she couldn’t help.

  “What’ve you got in the shopping bag?” her mother asked, mercifully changing the subject. “Christmas presents?”

  “Actually, no.” Mallory had to fight a smile. “I went on a little shopping trip with a few of the nurses from my shift today.” Wanda had organized the excursion, and it had been fun – more fun than Mallory had anticipated. “I bought an outfit for Dr. Anthony’s holiday party.”

  “Ooh, you’ve got to let me see. Go put it on.”

  Mallory retreated to her room, lifted her purchase from its bag and admired it for a few seconds before stripping out of her jeans and sweater. Then, carefully, she slid into the dress.

  It wasn’t what she’d set out to buy, that was for sure. But as soon as she’d laid eyes on the glittering midnight-blue sheath, she’d stopped in her tracks. Fact was, the color would go perfectly with Tyler’s eyes. That thought was what had sealed the deal – that and Wanda, who’d talked Mallory into trying it on and had then insisted that it was perfect.

  Opening her closet door, Mallory stared into the mirror inside. It showed her exactly what the department store’s fitting room mirror had – a beautiful dress. A sexy dress. It fell to just below her knees, but it was figure-hugging, and a narrow but plunging keyhole cutout in front kept the mandarin collar from being too demure. Raising a hand, she traced the gap with a fingertip, feeling her skin pebble underneath.

  So much for her plans to wear something nun-worthy to the party. For something so dark and simple, the dress managed to be pretty flashy. But it wasn’t Dr. Anthony’s reaction she thought of as she traced the keyhole – it was Tyler’s.

  He’d agreed to be her date when she’d asked him, dressed in baggy scrubs. What would he think when he saw her in the dress?

  The thought was exciting – maybe a little too exciting. She wanted to impress him more than she’d anticipated. Maybe the desire had something to do with the fact that she’d stopped by Hot Ink’s website again. And again. Each time, she hadn’t been able to resist clicking on his page, where a portrait showcased him in his element – tattooing.

  Watching him clumsily push around a meal cart at the hospital had been cute, but looking through his portfolio had assured her that he was, in fact, very good with his hands, at least when it came to
wielding a needle. His art was so impressive that she’d be willing to bet a paycheck that he was exceptionally good at anything that required a delicate touch. Hell, maybe the meal cart had a bad wheel. He was no klutz, that was for sure.

  “Mallory?” her mother called from the kitchen. “Do you need help zipping up or something?”

  “No, mom,” she answered, striding to the door and stepping out into the hall. “I’m coming.”

  Her mother’s eyes went wide as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. “So, who’s the lucky man?”

  Mallory gave a little twirl, as much to avoid meeting her mother’s gaze as to show off the back of the dress. “What?”

  “That’s the kind of dress you choose with someone in mind. Who is it?”

  “Actually,” Mallory conceded, spinning to a slow halt, “I do have a date for the party. He’s a volunteer I met at the hospital.”

  Her mother nodded slowly. “The dress is gorgeous. It really flatters you…”

  “But?” Mallory said softly, sensing the word hanging in the air.

  “I just hope he’s worthy of you. That’s all.”

  “Mom.” Mallory gave one of the little waves her mother was famous for. “I just met him a couple days ago, and it’s only a work party. I thought it would be nice to have a date instead of going alone. It’s not like we’re going to get married.”

  Her mother flashed a half-hearted smile. “I’m glad you’re going to the party. God knows you spend way too much time taking care of people at work, then coming home and taking care of me. You deserve to have some fun. You know me; I just can’t help but worry.”

  “You don’t have anything to worry about, mom. I promise not to hand him my heart on a silver platter at Dr. Anthony’s party. I know better than that.”

  * * * * *

  The atmosphere felt wrong the moment Tyler stepped through his front door, tired after another late night of tattooing. The TV was on, but Kassie wasn’t on the couch, and there were weird sounds coming from down the hall, where his bedroom was located. A sense of foreboding crept over him, and even before he reached his room, he knew who he’d find.

  “Kassie let you in, huh?” he asked, pausing in his own doorway.

  “Ungh!” Dustin grunted as he pushed a barbell into the air, locking his elbows and engaging in several moments of heavy, dangerous breathing before lowering the thing and sitting up, swinging his legs over the side of the bench.

  Yeah, Tyler kept a weightlifting bench in his room, up against the wall opposite his bed. It was the only place in his apartment it really fit.

  “Hey bro,” Dustin said. “Just pumpin’ some iron.” He raised one trembling arm and curled it in on itself, flexing.

  The sight wasn’t particularly impressive, which was no surprise, given his lifting technique.

  “You really shouldn’t lift without a spotter,” Tyler said, imagining coming home to find Dustin pinned beneath a barbell, his elbows hyperextended and useless.

  “Ah, I’m fine.” Dustin stood, sweeping a lock of too-long hair out of his eyes. Not that Tyler had anything against long hair, but Dustin had let his bangs grow out into a weird little swoop that made him look like a teenaged pop star.

  “I figured you’d head straight to mom and dad’s, get some visiting in before you came here.” He really had. Coming home to Dustin’s grunts after a long day at the hospital and Hot Ink hadn’t exactly been a part of his plans, which had included scrounging up something to eat, crashing in bed and indulging in a few sinful, Mallory-focused thoughts before passing out.

  “I’ll see them tomorrow. Figured mom’s probably all uptight planning for Christmas. I’d rather be here. Wanna order a pizza?”

  Translation: would Tyler order a pizza for the both of them and pay for it himself?

  Tyler was well-acquainted with Dustin-speak, even if he didn’t see his only brother all that often now that he was attending school in Ohio.

  There’d been sandwich supplies in the fridge when he’d left, but he didn’t need to look to know that Dustin had wiped those out already. “Yeah, whatever. But I’m not going out for beer. It’s late and I have work in the morning.”

  “Who gets tattooed at the crack of dawn? Thought you didn’t have to head in to the shop until afternoon or something.”

  “I’m doing some volunteer work before I head in to Hot Ink.”

  Dustin showed no interest in Tyler’s volunteer stuff. Big surprise. “How about sausage and mushrooms?” he asked, his face still red from the exertion of weightlifting.

  “Pepperoni and mushrooms.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called in the order.

  “Hey uh, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.” Dustin approached after Tyler ended the call.

  “Yeah – what?” Tyler’s curiosity – which normally flatlined in Dustin’s presence – spiked a little. Dustin was a college senior. In a few months he’d be graduating and heading out into the working world. Maybe he was finally getting over his partying frat boy phase.

  Dustin raised his arm and flexed again. “How about some free ink? I think these guns could use a little decoration. Maybe something tribal – what do you think?”

  Tyler sucked in a breath, then exhaled slowly. How was this his one and only brother? Dustin had started out so … bearable. Okay, so he’d always been a little bit of a brat, but he’d started acting like a real douche during his freshman year of college and hadn’t gone back to normal since.

  “I don’t know about free ink. That might not fly with Hot Ink’s owner,” Tyler lied. “You know a portion of my earnings goes to the shop, and I’ve got a lot of clients scheduled. It’s pretty common for people to come in this time of year to get tattoos as Christmas gifts.”

  In reality, Jed wouldn’t care if Tyler wanted to tattoo his brother on his own dime. But there was no way Tyler was going to do that. Dustin wasn’t mature enough to make a permanent decision about his body, and Tyler wasn’t about to ink something regrettable into his baby brother’s skin, then watch him unveil it in front of the whole family on Christmas.

  Their mom would freak.

  Plus, if Dustin asked Tyler to tattoo YOLO on his body, he’d have to kill him then and there, and that would ruin the holidays for the entire family.

  “Ah, man! That’s seriously lame. You tattooed Kassie! She told me.”

  “Yeah, well that was different.” Even though she was the youngest at just 20, Kassie was significantly more advanced than Dustin when it came to making smart decisions. Her tattoo was also small and discreet – Tyler had been glad to do it for her. “Somebody bought her a gift certificate to Hot Ink as a birthday gift.”

  It was sort of true. Tyler had tattooed her – at no charge – around the time of her twentieth birthday. And that was all Dustin needed to know.

  Dustin shook his head. “Sucks, man.” Striding out of the room and down the hall, he collapsed on the couch in the living room. “How soon is the pizza supposed to be here?”

  “Fifteen minutes, tops.” Tyler retreated to the kitchen and filled a glass at the sink tap. At nearly midnight, it was too late to call Mallory – she was probably in bed already, getting some rest in preparation for her early morning shift. He’d have to ask her when he saw her the next day: would she like to accompany him to his work’s holiday party, too?

  He still had the glitter-encrusted gingerbread man in one of his pockets, and he was holding onto it purposely – with any luck, it would be his ticket to a second date with Mallory. True, they hadn’t even been on their first date yet, but a gut feeling told him that he’d be more than ready for a second by the time it was over, and the Hot Ink party was a perfect excuse. At least the holidays were good for something – something other than babysitting Dustin and financing his pizza habit.

  CHAPTER 3

  “Hey, Tyler.”

  Mallory approached him in the hall with a smile, and he actually managed not to come close to running her over with the meal ca
rt.

  Progress.

  “Mallory. I was hoping I’d see you before you took your lunch break. Listen, whenever that is, would you like to grab something to eat with me?”

  “Yeah.” She looked surprised, but her smile didn’t fade. “It’ll have to be quick, but sure. My break starts at one.”

  “You know this area better than I do. We’ll go wherever you decide.”

  “Okay. See you then.” She strode off, moving briskly in a set of sky blue scrubs that really would’ve shown the damage if he’d upended food onto them.

  “Is that you, Tyler?” A familiar voice echoed from across the hall, and Tyler gave the cart a push, starting slowly forward.

  “Yeah, it’s me Ms. Sherwin.”

  * * * * *

  Mallory chose a café that was only a couple minutes’ walk from the hospital for her and Tyler’s lunch date, if she could call it that. The service would be quick and the atmosphere would be casual – appropriate for downing a sandwich or salad in her scrubs, taking care to leave time for a cup of coffee. The short walk was one she’d made quite a few times before, but this time, her stomach cramped with more than just emptiness.

  She was nervous. Sure, in the heat of the moment, she’d worked up the courage to ask Tyler out, spurred on by the threat of Dr. Anthony’s roving eye. But it wasn’t until now that she’d had a chance to actually get to know Tyler at all. In a few minutes, he’d go from being the blue-eyed, tattooed hottie with cart-pushing issues to being … well, whoever he was.

  He seemed nice. She never would’ve asked him out if he hadn’t. But all she knew was that he was kind enough to put up with Ms. Sherwin for his sister’s sake, and what she’d gleaned from his brief bio on Hot Ink’s website. Born and raised in Pittsburgh, just like her…