by Wendy Cole
When I finally finished the sketch, I turned and handed it to him.
Boe looked it over, eyes lifting to my face every few seconds as he examined what I came up with. “The way you sketch is effortless. It would have taken me hours to make what you just did in minutes.”
My skin heated. “So, that’s good? No changes?”
“I wouldn’t change a thing.”
I cleared my throat and set about the task of transferring it to his skin.
Boe’s eyes never left my face, not even after I started tattooing. The spot he chose forced me to place my arm across his midsection, while the rest of me sat precariously close to…the rest of him.
I never got lost in the art. How could I? While he wasn’t as intense as Bard, he was still a man, an attractive man, and I was a deprived woman who’d had a golden Adonis dangled in front of her for several days.
“So…your mother?” I asked, needing to break the tension. The muscles in my neck and shoulders felt ready to snap, and my arm kept wanting to shake no matter how hard I fought to stay still.
Boe was quiet for a moment. “She’s gone.”
I took a moment to wipe the blood away and peeked up at his grim expression. “She must have been something special.”
He grinned. “Oh, she was that alright. She was something else.”
I smiled back at him, then turned back to the work.
“She was hell if you got on her bad side. Five-foot nothing and all fire. I watched her yank a guy off the back of a dirt bike one day for spraying gravel on her car. Not an ounce of shame.” He hummed. “But she was also kind. Loved babies. Kids. Not just hers, but anybody’s. She helped raise so many damn kids, I couldn’t even tell you how many nieces and nephews she had.”
“Wish I had someone like that when I was young.” I wiped again and moved onto the wings of the bird.
I felt his attention return to my face again. “You’d have probably deserved her a lot more than I did.”
I looked up at him. “What makes you say that?”
Boe stared at me, his face blank and lips thin. When he didn’t speak, I returned to the tattoo and let the question go.
We sat in silence for a while as he continued to stare at me, doing my best to finish as quickly as possible without being sloppy.
“When she died, I was locked up.”
My gaze shot back up to him.
“Despite everything she ever did for me, I decided to go off and be my father. I decided to be a junkie.” His voice was raw. “When they laid her in the ground, I was thirty days into a ninety-day sentence. She died with worry in her heart for me, and I couldn’t even get furlough to say goodbye.”
I almost said I was sorry, knowing damn well how stupid those were. Apologies didn’t change anything. They didn’t make it better. People died. People fucked up. I knew that better than anybody. “You’re not a junkie now.”
Boe’s brows lifted. “No. I’m not.”
“So you got clean. That’s not an easy thing to do.”
“It’s not.” His expression softened. “I had to. When I got out, I left and came up here, found this job. Got my shit straight. But it’s never gonna feel like enough. She’s already gone. I’m trying to fix a ship that’s already sunk.”
“I don’t think so.” I wiped the piece and started filling it in.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah.” I dipped into the red ink and swirled it into the heart. “I mean, yeah, you fucked up. Real bad. I should know. I do that shit all the time. But you’re not fucking up right now.” I wiped it all down, leaned away from him, then motioned to the finished piece. “You’re honoring her.”
Boe looked down at his chest, then hopped off the table, and stepped over to the mirror.
Zeke turned to get a look as well then clasped a hand onto Boe’s shoulder. “Did I find us a good one or what?”
Boe looked over at me. “Yeah. You really did.”
I rolled my eyes and grinned.
Boe stepped back over and stood while I finished cleaning and wrapping him up. “You got some fresh ink too, huh?”
He pointed to my shoulder.
My smile faltered. “Yep. Just did that yesterday.”
He took in my reaction and didn’t comment further. “Well, Jessie, thank you.”
Next thing I knew, his arms were around me.
I stood stiff, mainly because he still hadn’t bothered to put his shirt back on.
Then the front door chimed, and I peered over his shoulder to see an equally stiff-looking Bard. Amber stood right behind him, her hand clutching his bicep.
Boe rumbled a dark laugh. “Look who it is.”
Bard didn’t smile. He didn’t make any expression at all. Instead, he took one look at Boe, at the arm still holding me, and walked over to us. Amber lost her grip and lingered by the door.
“Can I talk to you?” he asked Boe, not even bothering to acknowledge me.
I had a bad feeling. An intuition. For all I knew, his reason for wanting to talk had nothing to do with me, but something told me it did. I looked at Amber. He couldn’t be fucking serious. How dare he try to interfere when he had a girl right behind him.
I wasn’t interested in Boe for the same reason I wasn’t interested in Bard, but if he thought for one second it was any of his damn business…
“Actually,” I broke free and tugged Boe towards the table, “I need to have another look at this.”
Bard’s jaw clenched.
Motherfucker. It was about me.
Boe’s lips twisted. He looked between the two of us, then settled his gaze on me. “Did you forget an M? I could have sworn they were both there.”
A traitorous smile broke free, and I tiptoed up to his ear. “He looks ready to eat you. I figured I’d slow him down a bit.”
His eyes danced. He cut a look over his shoulder, back to where Bard had retreated. He was talking in hushed angry whispers with his uncle who looked more amused by whatever he was saying.
“And you wanted to make sure I…what? Wouldn’t get scared off?”
I shrugged and focused on his tattoo. “No. I wanted to make sure he didn’t scare you off.” I looked at him. “If anyone’s going to do that, it will be me.”
Boe’s smile widened as he leaned forward. “Don’t worry, Jessie. Bard doesn’t scare me.”
“Don’t go getting any ideas.”
His eyes glittered. “I’m generally pretty full of ideas. You could call me an idea man.”
I snorted. “Go away.”
“Can’t do that. I work here. Plus, I’m gonna need some more tattoos. I’m thinking no one else is gonna cut it after seeing what you’re capable of.”
I grinned. Couldn’t argue with the prospect of making money. “Now, that, I can get on board with.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Boe pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and headed back towards the front door.
Bard immediately went to follow, and Zeke rumbled a laugh as the door fell shut behind him.
I busied myself with cleaning my station. I didn’t give a shit about whatever was being said. I didn’t care one bit about Bard or whatever his damn angle was. He’d just have to get over it. We drank together. That was all it was; two broken people at a bar that happened upon each other outside of it. He wasn’t a fork in the road. He was just an intercepting path, and I didn’t have time to go traveling in any new directions.
“Hello…”
I turned.
Amber had her hands clasped in front of her with a shy expression on her face. “We weren’t properly introduced earlier. I’m Amber.”
She held out her hand.
Every part in my being longed to ignore her, but that was too much like jealousy. There was no reason for me to dislike her. She hadn’t done anything to me, but I didn’t want to talk to her.
Regardless of whether she’d done anything, hormone-driven inner Jessie just wouldn’t see it that way. She was pissed,
literally screaming from deep down inside my chest. She’d been deprived for far too long, and Bard was her golden ticket to remedy that.
But that couldn’t happen, especially not now.
“Jessie.” There. Good enough. I turned back away.
She shuffled her feet. “So, Bard’s teaching you how to fight?”
I met her gaze. Fuck. This was what I was talking about, the drama. I didn’t need this shit. “I didn’t know he had a girl. You’ll get no trouble from me. I’m going to ask Zeke to show me from now on.”
She heaved a sigh, and her hands relaxed back at her sides. “I’m sorry. I just, I’m going through a rough time right now, and I…” her voice broke again, “I really don’t need any more heartache.”
My gut twisted, and I nodded. “I’m sorry about your dad.”
She averted her gaze. Her shoulders were stiff as she ran a hand along her face, then she looked back at me. She looked ready to break down, but there was a strength in her eyes. She was a tough one. I’d give her that.
It made it so much worse.
I wanted to punch Bard in the face.
The door chimed, and the devil himself stormed through it, his hands tightly fisted at his sides, shoulders and back stiff.
I snorted. Guess I was right in my assumption. Wonder what that conversation was like? If only I could have been there.
Amber took a step away from me, but the way she did it was odd. It was as if she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I need to talk to you,” Bard directed at me, completely ignoring the girl to my left.
Amber’s gaze dropped to the floor.
I gritted my teeth and glared at him. “I’m busy.”
“There’s no one here. You’ve got time.” His jaw was tight and his voice was stern. What right did he have to be so pissed? And then there was the poor girl behind him who looked so fucking broken already.
“I can’t think of a single thing we need to discuss.”
“Tequila….” He reached for me.
I jerked away. “For fuck’s sake! Your girlfriend is right there!”
Everyone in the shop turned to stare at the three of us, but it was Bard’s eyes that bore into me, cutting, scorching, branding. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
“Bard,” Amber said, her voice soft.
The memory of sitting in a crowded prison media room flashed to my mind. The way all the women shouted at the small screen in the corner. They’d eat this shit right up. I could imagine it perfectly. Some would yell for me to ‘beat her down’, the others would rant about men. Jesus. This was like daytime television. I could practically hear organ music playing dramatically within each pause of the conversation. I laughed hard.
“Wow!” I waved him off and shook my head as I turned back to my work. “Okay then. Can y’all please just get the fuck out of my station?”
Bard looked ready to argue. Hell, he looked ready to club me over the head and drag me away like a caveman, but instead, those freaky eyes took in our audience.
“We’ll talk later,” he said, each word spoken through clenched teeth. He stormed down the hall and slammed the backdoor behind him.
No, we won’t.
“Thank you,” Amber said before turning away.
My eyes followed her as she headed in the same direction Bard had.
Scarlet rolled her stool over to me. “She played your ass.”
“What?”
She made a pfft noise. “Bard has been locked in that RV for years. I’ve never seen her once. There’s no way they’re a thing.”
“Not my problem,” I dismissed her, busying myself once again. “It doesn’t matter either way.”
The situation was grating on my nerves. I didn’t need this bullshit. I had more important things to worry about like not dying.
I was grateful that Scarlett rolled away and didn’t comment further.
Zeke walked over. “Want to explain what that was?”
“Not really,” I grumbled as I flopped down onto my seat.
He studied me for a moment then nodded. “I get it. You need to try and control that temper, though. This may be a tattoo shop, but I still like to keep things professional.”
I cringed. First day, and I’d already fucked up. “Sorry about that. It won’t happen again.”
“I’ll have a talk with Bard. Something tells me none of it would have happened if it wasn’t for him.”
I nodded. Maybe he could get his nephew to chill the fuck out. As it stood, I preferred to spend as much time away from him as possible.
Zeke walked away, and the rest of the day went by without incident. Bard never reappeared, and a steady stream of clients helped to keep me occupied.
I lost myself in the ink, in the steady buzz of machinery and the feeling of creation, and for that brief span of time, I was at peace. But when the day was done, exhaustion settled itself onto my shoulders.
Between the night before, training that morning, and the Amber situation, I was ready to collapse and hopefully get some sleep.
The thought of going to the motorhome made my heart quicken. Would he be there, waiting for me? Yes. He would. I knew it without even thinking. He was furious, with no damn reason to be, and I had no choice but to face him.
I needed to set him straight and let him know this was not okay. He didn’t get a say in who I talked to. He didn’t get a say in what I did. He didn’t get a say in any damn thing.
And he damn sure didn’t get to be all in my shit when he had a woman somewhere else.
I quickly finished my clean up and rushed out the back. The light illuminating the front window made me pause.
Don’t be a little bitch. You haven’t done anything wrong. He’s the one being an ass.
When I stepped through the door, Bard was sitting at the table gripping a bottle of Wild Turkey. His gaze shot to me, and the moment it did, he stood and closed the space between us.
I hurried around him and into the kitchen. “Where’s Amber?” I asked, my voice too spiteful for my liking.
“She went home.” He continued towards me.
“What do you want to talk about?”
Bard stopped his approach, and his jaw tightened. “You tattooed Boe?”
I laughed. “No shit. You were there. What about it?”
I lifted an eyebrow at him, my anger growing by the second. This motherfucker.
“You like him?” Bard asked, eyes probing, searching, taking in everything and missing nothing.
“Yeah, actually. He’s a nice guy. Why?” My temper rose. Be mad all you want. I had a right mind to sleep with the dude just to prove a point.
“I don’t like it.” He closed the distance between us in three long strides and stood almost on top of me. Close. Too close.
“I’m sorry,” I answered, sounding anything but. “I don’t see why not. That’s why I’m here. That’s my job, and it’s none of your damn business what I do.”
Bard lifted a hand, grabbed a piece of my hair, and ran it between his fingers. “I like your hair like this.”
His voice was smooth, velvet, and my stupid body grew hot all over again. We were back in the yard. His hands were on my thighs. We were back when he last kissed me, and my blood boiled for him. My body screamed for him.
I jerked away as if he’d slapped me. “I don’t need this shit!” I clenched my teeth. “Don’t involve me in it.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “It’s not what you think with Amber.”
I laughed. “Really? Have you told her that? God! This is so fucking stupid! I don’t even want you! I don’t want anyone!”
I tried to walk away, but Bard blocked the path.
“Just listen.” He moved closer, and I stepped back until I touched the counter. I was cornered, forced to stand while his body heat wrapped around me, and those sharp eyes cut through what little defense I had left.
“I have
n’t seen Amber in years. We were just kids when we dated. It was all innocent.” He bent down and levelled his imploring eyes with mine. “If you hadn’t ran off earlier, you would have seen me push her away.”
“You left with her.”
“Her dad died.” His eyes cut; and his jaw clenched. “She had a cab drop her off here. She wanted to stay, but I told her no. Told her things were different now, but I couldn’t just abandon her altogether. I drove her into town and helped her get a room.”
I hummed. “Nice story, Bard.”
Dammit, he sounded so genuine. Could it be? Had that girl played me the way Scarlet said she did?
It didn’t matter.
“It doesn’t matter, Bard. I’m not looking for a man. You don’t need to explain anything to me.”
“Yes, I do.” He stepped closer, lifted his other hand and used it to tilt my head back. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, Tequila? I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone in my life.” He bent down and pressed his cheek to mine. “You’re in my blood.” His voice dropped to a whisper, and his cool breath caressed the shell of my ear. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t get you out of my head.”
It was undeniable. Shockwaves ricocheted through every part of me: my legs, my arms, and it all led to my core. Heat pooled into my belly, and my chest rose and fell heavier than was natural.
Bard’s hand slowly tangled into my hair and tugged, and my head fell back easily; no fight at all.
His mouth hovered less than an inch from mine. “I know you feel it, too.”
Those dark eyes locked on my mouth, and I was lost.
“I do,” I admitted, my voice hoarse. “That doesn’t mean I want to.”
“I can’t walk away from it.”
I stood stock still, fighting a losing battle for control. “I’m not the one. She wants you. Whether you’re telling the truth or not, I’m unavailable.”
I tried to pull away again, but Bard’s grip only tightened. “I don’t want her.”
“You’re not understanding! It doesn’t matter. I’m. Not. An. Option.” I shoved his chest. “Even if I was, you think I would let you just discard me at a whim; treat me like a second thought?” I laughed a harsh sound. “You think I’m stupid enough to think you couldn’t have explained what was going on before you left?”