Although one thing was clear. She wasn’t about to have him doing it on her hip like that. She’d have to all but pull up her skirt. Considering the way she was having trouble thinking clearly around him just now...? Yeah. Not happening. “I guess my lower back.”
Glancing down at her skirt, she frowned and turned around to find Zach staring at her. His gaze dropped back down to the sketchbook in front of him. “Will this skirt work okay for this?”
“Yeah. You’re fine. You wanna take a look at any of these?”
She crossed the floor to study the designs and frowned. They all looked so...simple.
“What’s wrong?”
“Well...they’re pretty, but...” She glanced at the vivid color on his arms, the intricate detail and then back at the sketches. “Aren’t they kind of plain?”
“Sugar, you’ve never had a tattoo before. Trust me. You want simple. They hurt. And the more intricate it gets, the longer it takes.”
“Oh.” Well, technically she realized it wasn’t going to feel good. But having it pointed out to her made some of the nerves inside her flare to life.
A warm hand brushed down her arm and she turned her head, found Zach watching her closely. “You know, this isn’t anything you have to do,” he said quietly.
“Yes, it is. I want to.” Tearing her gaze away from his, she looked at the designs. One in particular had caught her eye the second he’d drawn it. Simple or not, it was lovely. The stylized dragonfly made her smile. It was pretty, fantastical, and silly.
“I think that one is just about perfect,” she said, tapping it with her finger.
“Okay.” He checked the clock. “I need some time to get this ready. Don’t suppose you feel like ordering us in some pizza or something, do you? You can put a movie in while I do this.”
“Sure.” She tugged her phone out and then glanced at him as he pushed back from the desk. “I... ah, well, I didn’t know it was any more complicated than you just doing it.”
A grin tugged at his lips. “Well, if you had the design in mind already or brought one with you, we could move a little quicker. But yeah, it takes a little while.” He gestured down the hall. “The number for the best local pizza place is hanging on the fridge in the break room if you want to use them, or we can use Rosatti’s.”
Once she left the room, Zach dropped his head down on his desk and groaned. He had to do this. He knew he did. And he wasn’t going to deny a very huge part of him wanted to do this—wanted it so bad, his hands were shaking from it, but how in the hell was he supposed to handle this without losing his damn mind?
“By doing your damn job.” She came here because she wanted some ink. So that was what he was going to do.
As he pushed back from the desk, he kicked the chair she’d dragged over and knocked her purse over. The journal fell out as he scooped up the purse. He went to dump them both back on the chair, but found himself flipping through the journal. She hadn’t done much of anything.
But then he stopped.
One page held her neat writing.
She’d titled it. That was typical Abby, although it made him a little nervous. Wreck this life. What the hell...
But the first few goals had him smiling. Tell off Roger. Cool. Flip off the photographers? He’d been telling her to do that for years. Stop worrying so much. Wonderful.
The tattoo...yes. She was serious.
But the last one had the blood draining out of his head.
Fffffuuuuccckkkkk...
Snapping it closed, he dumped the book on top of her purse and shot upright. Have a fucking affair? What the hell?
Thunder crashed inside his head. At least it felt that way, although more than likely, he was having a stroke or something. His feet seemed to get in the way as he turned around and started for the door. They needed to talk.
Abby had just broken things off with that prick she’d been engaged to. She was upset and feeling a little lost, needed to do something crazy. He could understand that, he thought. And while he was completely on board with her learning to live a little, the idea of her having a fucking affair with some guy who wouldn’t give a damn about her made him want to chew glass and break things. Lots of things.
Still, that journal was her personal property and he hadn’t had any right to go rooting through it. He hadn’t expected to find anything like that and how could he explain that he’d read it? He couldn’t lie to her. But did he tell her that she needed to think this through?
Damn it.
Following the sound of her voice, he stopped in the doorway and made himself close his eyes while she finished placing the order.
Breathe, man. Gotta breathe. Gotta think. Gotta be calm.
First he had to explain just how he’d managed to see it in the journal. He hadn’t exactly been prying...well, he had, but he was her best friend and he was nosy, and she knew that, and...
Feeling the weight of her gaze, he lifted his lashes, not looking directly at her. Not yet.
But Abby wasn’t looking at his face.
She was eyeing his arms. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she tugged on the soft curve and he almost went to his knees at the sight. A second later, she glanced away, but then she looked back.
The thunder that had been crashing inside his head grew louder and louder.
Have a torrid affair.
Damn it, if she was dead set on that idea, she could have an affair with him, he decided.
Even as the idea slammed into him, he tried to brush it aside. He’d kept what he felt wrapped up and buried deep for years. Spilling it now?
Just wondering if you’re ever going to do anything about it.
It’s complicated...
Hell. He was lecturing Abby about living life and letting go, and here he was, afraid to grab on.
The woman he wanted like he wanted his next breath was standing right there and he was afraid to even make a move.
She turned away as he stood there, still wrestling with the very thought of it, need burning in him and twisting him into tight, hungry knots. Damn it. Damn it. He needed to do this—
“It will take about an hour or so,” Abby said.
I’m thinking longer—
“They’re pretty busy.”
“What?” Distracted, he dragged his eyes away from the curve of her ass and focused on what she was saying.
“The pizza place. They said it would be about an hour or so—asked if they should come around to the back and I told them yes.”
“That’s fine.” He dragged a hand down his face. “Ah...I need to get back to work.”
“I was thinking about going to grab some wine or something.”
Good idea. Wait. “You can’t.” He turned around and headed back into the main area of the shop, found the consent forms he needed. Abby was behind him, although he hadn’t heard her. When he turned around, she was just a foot away and the scent of her went straight to his head and Zach had to wonder just what in the hell he’d done to get this kind of torture thrown into his life.
“I can’t go get wine?” A smile curved her lips as she tipped her head to look up at him.
“I can’t do the tattoo if you do—I won’t put one on anybody who has been drinking. Saves me trouble later on. And you need to read through the consent form and sign. Make it all nice and legal.”
“Ahhh...” She took the paper and moved over to one of the seats, crossing her legs as she started to read. “I guess I should be totally clearheaded. Otherwise, I could end up having arms like yours.”
“Nah. I might try to talk you into having Forever Nate’s tattooed on your ass, but that’s it.” He gave her a strained smile and turned around. Distance. Serious distance was needed here so he could get back on track.
As he headed down the hall, she called out, “Yeah, sure. I’ll do that when you have a heart with Kate somewhere on you.”
Once he was in his office, he rubbed the heel of his hand over his chest.
What
in the hell would she do if she knew he already had her written on his skin?
Not Kate, of course.
He hadn’t fallen in love with Kate.
He loved Abby and always had.
He’d loved her when she ran away from California all those years ago...and he’d waited until she stopped running, so he could follow.
He’d loved her when she came to him and told him she was getting married...to a man who didn’t deserve her.
And now she was laying out a plan to go and have a torrid affair. With who?
Curling one hand into a fist, he crossed back to his desk.
“Why in the hell not me?”
* * * * *
Wine would have been a good idea, Abby thought. Maybe he didn’t want her drinking before he got started, but after? Yeah, it would have helped.
Stretched out on her belly, she closed her eyes and tried to think about anything but the pain.
“You okay?”
Zach’s hands on her weren’t helping her zone out, she decided. It was one hell of a distraction, but it wasn’t helping her zone out.
Swallowing the knot in her throat, she croaked out, “I’m as good as I think I can expect to be.”
“And how good is that?”
“Lousy.”
He laughed a little. “Why don’t you talk to me? We’re halfway done,” he said. “If you talk, you’ll get distracted and it will be done before you know it.”
“Okay.” She scrunched her eyes tightly closed and tried to think of something to say. Her mind was blank. “I don’t know what to talk about.”
“You always have something to talk about,” he teased, his voice low and easy and she knew even without looking at him that he was smiling.
“Not right now I don’t.” Well, she could think of a thing or two. But those weren’t really things she could say. Were they? No. She’d thought this through. She wasn’t going down that road with Zach.
“Okay. I’ll help. What is this new life plan you’ve got laid out? Besides the tattoo?”
I plan on flipping my life upside down.
She bit her lip to keep from blurting that out. That would make him worry. She loved him dearly and she didn’t need him worrying about her right now. “It’s not a life plan exactly. It’s just a for now plan,” she said slowly. “Some things to keep me distracted until I figure out what I’m going to do with myself. There’s the tattoo thing, which you’re obviously helping with. I’m going to try to stop worrying so much. One of them, though...I plan on calling up Roger and telling him off.”
He grunted. “Good plan.” Something soft brushed against her lower back and she hissed a little.
Damn it, that hurt. It felt like something was slicing right through her skin.
Distraction. Talk, damn it. About anything.
“I don’t get it,” she said softly, some of the confusion and pain breaking free. “I mean...I thought he loved me. How could he love me and walk away like that? Over the life I used to have? That’s what it’s all about. I used to be an actress. I’m not anymore—I haven’t been for years and I’m happy with that. How can he not see that? If he loved me, wouldn’t he be able to see that I don’t want to act anymore?”
Zach didn’t answer.
Turning her head, she peered over her shoulder at him.
He had his head bowed, the gold-streaked strands falling down and hiding his features from her.
“Zach?”
He sighed. “Do you really want to hear what I have to say about this right now, sugar?”
“I always want to hear what you have to say.”
“Okay.” He used the cloth again on her back and then bent down, staring at her skin like there was nothing else in the world but her back and the design he was inking on her flesh. “He never loved you.”
It was a strike, square to her heart.
She closed her eyes.
“If he loved you, he wouldn’t treat you the way he did. When you walked into a room, it would have showed on his face…if he really loved you. Either he’d have been so busy staring at you because he just had to see you, or he would have been looking away so nobody could see it. Except he was going to marry you—you were his and he had every right to let the world see how he felt.” Zach dabbed at her back again, still focused on the work.
She was almost glad of the pain now, because it was easier to think about how much it hurt than to think about what he had to say.
“But when you walked into a room, that fucking prick was too busy either messing with his damned gadgets or looking at everybody else to see what they thought about you. He was in love with the idea of having Kate the cutie on his arm—the son of a bitch just loved to talk about his fiancée, the actress…and don’t tell me you never noticed. He might have loved the idea of being with Kate…but he never loved you.”
He paused what he was doing and for a brief second, the world fell away as he looked up and met her eyes. “He never loved you, and the son of a bitch sure as hell didn’t deserve you, sugar.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs as his blue gaze held hers.
And then, as it started to feel like all the oxygen in the room had dwindled away, he turned his attention back to the task at hand.
It felt like he was flaying the flesh from her bones. And she decided that was just fine, because now she needed that distraction.
Was he right, she wondered?
She’d noticed, and tried to ignore, Roger’s fascination with her old life, but she’d chalked it up to him just wanting to know about her. They were getting married…they should know about each other. But what if Zach was right?
What if Roger had never really loved her at all?
And that thought, as much as it infuriated her, it also made her wonder one simple thing.
Had she loved him?
∞ ∞ ∞
“Okay, here are the important things,” Zach said as he studied the design. It was cute and sexy as hell. If he found out another guy was the one who got to press his lips to that dragonfly where it curved low over the flare of her left hip, he thought he just might go insane. “I’ll send you home with some instructions on how to care for it, but you need to make sure you keep it clean. No scrubbing at it or anything—you need to be gentle when you wash it. I’ve got some ointment I’ll send home with you and I’ll go into detail about using that, too.”
She was still staring at it over her shoulder in the mirror. Worrying her lower lip with her teeth and eyeing the dragonfly like she expected it to take flight or something.
“I need to get the bandage on,” he said softly.
“What? Oh.”
She continued to stand there and he reached up, pressed his hand between her shoulder blades. “Lean forward a little.”
Hunger screamed, jerking on the leash inside him as he eased the waistband of her skirt just a little lower so he could get the bandage in place. Bent over the table like that, he could so easily imagine pulling the hem of the skirt up. Slipping his hand between her thighs. Would she sigh? Moan?
No. This was Abby and she’d freak the hell out and then she’d run away and he’d lose her—
A soft, shaky sigh caught his attention as he smoothed the bandage down. Keeping his head bowed, he checked the mirror from under his lashes and his knees almost buckled.
Fuck.
Abby was staring at their reflection and her face was flushed.
What. The. Hell.
Abruptly, he stepped back and moved away. If he didn’t move away immediately, he was going to grab her and do things he should never do to his best friend. The woman he loved. That was the problem. He’d loved her for too long and he was misreading the signals and—
“Do you really think all that’s true? About Roger?”
Hearing that shithead’s name on her lips snapped his temper. He turned around and glared at her. “If I didn’t think that was the case, Abs, I wouldn’t have said it. He’s an egotistical, arrogant p
iece of work and he never loved you. You deserved a hell of a lot better and I knew it all along. But he was what you wanted so who in the hell was I to say any different?”
“You’re my best friend,” she said quietly.
“Shit.” He went to pass a hand over his face and stopped. He still had his gloves on. Stripping them off, he tossed them into the red trash can near the door and headed over to start cleaning up. “Yes. I am. You asked me what I thought and I told you. But I can’t tell you what is in that fucker’s head. You can always ask him when you call him to tell him off, although I doubt he’ll tell you the truth. He doesn’t even see the truth anyway.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
In the middle of gathering up his supplies, he paused. Zach closed his eyes and started to mouth every single foul, nasty curse he could think of. He had four brothers. He could think of a lot of cuss words. Halfway through one that involved anatomical improbabilities and a goat, a hand touched his shoulder.
“Zach?”
Damn it, he couldn’t do this. Moving away, he started grabbing his supplies at random. Dumping trash, slamming the tools here, there. Being fucking careless with them, but he couldn’t look at her yet. If he did, she might see—
He went to dump the trash and turned around.
Abby was right there, dark brown eyes locked on his face, her shirt still knotted just under her breasts, leaving her belly bare.
“What is this?” she teased. “You make me play twenty questions all the time.”
Edging around her, he focused on cleaning up. “I’m thirty-two years old, Abby. Yeah. I’ve been in love,” he said, keeping his voice flat and his eyes on the task at hand. “It didn’t work out.”
“Why not?”
“She never seemed to notice that I was staring at her when she walked into the room.”
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Wrecked
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