by Sandra Marie
“You kinda said you were lonely the other night. At the beach. Thought George might give you some needed company.”
Had she said that? If not out loud, maybe she’d implied it pretty heavily. Or he was just super in tune with her emotions. A warm drop of honey ran down her throat and spread through her chest at the sweet gesture.
A cat, though? Really?
Tommy shut the door behind him and shook off his fur and rain covered coat. It’d started sprinkling about an hour ago and was still going. “He gets better the more you get to know him. Trust me.”
“Explain that, then.” She poked at the scratch at his neck. He reached up and winced, then let out a laugh.
“It was our bonding moment.”
“I think he won.”
“I saved his life.”
“You want to keep him, then?”
His light banter turned into a frown, and he shrugged his coat off and hung it next to hers. “You really don’t want him?”
“A pet is kind of a big responsibility, Tommy.”
“That’s the best part,” he said, his smile returning. “Guy is super low maintenance. Ginny said he mostly sleeps all day.”
“He doesn’t require food?”
Tommy rolled his eyes and poked her in the side. A small jumble of flutters ran across her skin. “Of course he eats. But you can get one of those auto feeder things and fill it once a week, and he’s good. Ginny said he’s not an overeater.”
“You sure about that?” Rae raised an eyebrow at the fat blob of fur blocking her hallway.
“You really mad?” Tommy asked, and damn him for those puppy dog eyes. He playfully frowned and wrapped an arm around her, pressing their temples together. “Look at the guy. He needs you.”
She’d have to first tear her gaze away from Tommy’s adorable brown eyes. Her heart thudded in her ears, and she had to concentrate her hardest to break eye contact.
The cat slowly blinked, looking as if he didn’t give a shit about anything or anyone. Rae giggle-snorted and shook her head.
“Where is he supposed to poop?”
Tommy’s mouth turned down, apology written in his eyes. “Whoops. Didn’t think about that.”
“And food?”
“Yeah… I was a little excited to get him over here.”
Rae sighed and plucked her coat off the hook. “You’re driving.”
“Knew he’d grow on you.”
She put a finger to his nose. “He’s here on a trial basis. If it doesn’t work out, guess who gets a new cat?”
The corner of his mouth lifted, and he slowly lowered her finger from his face. His touch ran warm over her skin, and even in her annoyance, she couldn’t be mad at him.
“Low maintenance my butt.” Rae scanned over all the litter box choices displayed. “Do I need… What is this? Anti-spray spray. Is he gonna be spraying pheromones all over my place?”
Her voice pitched high on the end of her sentence, and Tommy threw his head back with a laugh and picked up the box of anti-spray spray. “Better safe than sorry.”
She turned a disgusted and worried face in his direction, and he couldn’t help but like her just a little more. The cat had been a risk, for sure, and Tommy was all about risk taking. She’d warm up to the big guy, even if her reaction was less than thrilled.
Tommy leaned on the shopping cart, kicking a foot up on the bottom rung. His toes hit the large bag of cat food nestled underneath the main basket, and the crinkle echoed down the empty aisle.
“Least you don’t have to worry about a cat bed for him,” he said with a nod toward the surprisingly expensive cat pillows.
“He ain’t sleeping with me.”
“He can sleep in the poop I got you.”
She faux gasped, putting a hand up to her chest. “He better not. Mr. Stinky is mine.”
“You named it?”
“You should know me better by now.” She sidled over a few feet to where the cat toys and collars hung. Her head tilted, giving him a better view of the tattoo inked on her neck. That’d been an interesting one to do—one of his first neck tattoos he’d given. Rae’d been a champ with only a few silent tears when the needle dug into the sensitive spot.
He’d been a wreck. If it was a proven method of healing, he would’ve kissed her skin free of that pain following the tattoo gun. Instead he’d pulled a Tommy and joked his way through it.
“What size do I need?” Rae held up two collars, and Tommy pointed at the longer one. “Yeah,” she said with a snort. “But how much of him is just extra fluff?”
“Get both, then.”
“You’re no help.” She flung the long orange collar into the cart and crouched down for the toys. He should probably tell her not to bother with cat toys; George seemed to be content without them. But he wasn’t going to squash any enthusiasm she had toward owning a cat.
She stretched out for a feather teaser, and her off-the-shoulder white tee lifted at the small of her back. Tommy’s gaze floated over the patch of skin that wasn’t inked and imagined putting something there. He’d tattooed her neck, her ribs, her calf, her ankle, her wrist, her shoulder, her back… He was so familiar with her body, yet it was still a fascinating mystery to him. He didn’t have to wonder how her skin felt; he was more afraid of how her skin made him feel.
“Hypothetical question for you,” she said, and he blinked, surprised at how hot it was suddenly. He shrugged his coat off and put it in the cart.
Rae straightened, running a hand down the feather teaser and tickling the pink and blue feathers against her palm. “If I needed to go out of town for… I don’t know… a week. Do I get someone to watch him?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Not full time, but maybe check on him a few of those days.” He playfully nudged her with the cart. “Where ya going, and can I come?”
A humorless smile touched her lips, and a wave of concern hit him deep in the gut.
“Uh oh…” he joked, side-stepping around the cart to get closer to her. The scent of peaches floated through the air. “Not so hypothetical, is it?”
“Not so much, no.”
“What’s going on?”
The cutest wrinkle appeared at the bridge of her nose, and it sent him back to when they were teens. Graduation day, to be exact. Rae’s art portfolio sat on her lap, the black cover a contrast to the whiteness of her gown. It was the first time she’d shown him her art, and having been in art class pretty much his whole life, she’d wanted his opinion.
That wrinkle was a dead giveaway to her nerves, but a specific kind. She was unsure of what kind of reaction he’d have to whatever was on her mind, and when he’d discovered that tell, he made a vow to himself to keep his head. Nothing like a bad reaction to news to turn her off from ever opening up to him ever again.
“Okay,” she said in a rush, twisting her fingers together. The pink polish on her nails had started to chip. “A few months ago, I applied for a tattoo shop in Vegas. They want me to go down for an interview on the fifteenth, so I’m gonna give it a shot. But that doesn’t mean I’m for sure moving. It could be a total wash. But you should know about it.”
Her eyes stayed firmly on the tiled floor of the cat aisle, and Tommy’s brain ran through a million different emotions. He pictured all the guys from Pixar’s Inside Out battling for a turn at the station—anger, fear, disgust, sadness… Joy was taking a seat.
Seattle without Rae? That was like a tattoo gun with no ink. Skydiving without a parachute.
She applied a few months ago? Christ…
He blew out a shaky breath, the muscles in his crossed arms corded tight. He blinked back the dots in his vision and kept his tongue curled behind his teeth until he could trust it. How in the hell could she leave him high and dry like that? Forget the fact that she practically ran Tommy’s Tats, she was the Chewbacca to his Han Solo. There wasn’t an adventure he wanted without her there, and she knew it. She had to know that.
“Well,” he said after a lon
g pause, “that sucks.”
A giggle-giggle-snort floated through the air, and it did nothing to make him feel better.
Okay, maybe a little.
The corner of his lip curled upward, and she rested her head on his shoulder. He resisted the urge to find the nearest pile of duct tape and literally attach her to his hip.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Why?”
She shrugged. “’Cause I kept it from you.”
“Yeah… that was pretty crappy,” he admitted with a hollow laugh. “But you’re telling me now.”
“So… we’re good?”
“I’m not happy,” he said. “But I’m sure you have your reasons for wanting to leave me.” His voice took on that teasing tone he used so often for his defense mechanism. He had to use it on full power now, or the security team was going to see a grown man curl in a ball in the pet section.
“Being away from you is the shittiest part of the deal, believe me.”
An itch he couldn’t scratch niggled at his insides, and he ran a hand down his face, pinching briefly at his nose. Rae tilted her head up, keeping her chin on his shoulder. He felt her eyes on him, studying his expression, and he knew if he met that gaze, he’d be given away in a second.
“The fifteenth?” he clarified. She nodded against his shoulder. Shit, that left him with two days to convince her to stay. If there was more time, he’d be more subtle about it, but he was gonna pull out the big guns. Good thing he had Rae’s favorite—or third favorite—holiday on his side.
Kindling that hope inside him, he straightened up and put on a grin. She wasn’t going to go anywhere if he had any say, but he knew it would have to feel like her decision. He should probably ask why she wanted to move, but he didn’t want to know. He wasn’t in Vegas, so it couldn’t be where she belonged.
“We still got V-Day, right?” he asked.
“You can’t bail out now just because you got me an old maid gift.”
He made a face at her. “Any requests for the night?”
She rolled her head toward him, crossing her arms. “You have nothing planned, do you?”
“Ye of little faith.” He nudged her with his elbow. “I just want to make sure I check all your boxes for your third favorite holiday.”
A small teased the corner of her mouth, and her gaze fell to the tiled floor. She traced each square with the toe of her wet boot. “Turn the rain into snow?” she joked. “That one day it snowed was not enough.”
“I’ll call Harry Potter. See what I can do.”
She let out one giggle instead of her signature two, and the tension in the air went back to thick and silent. She had to pick something impossible for him to pull off, but maybe… with the help of good ol’ Daddio, he could improvise. And then she would see that Seattle was the best place for all her dreams to come true.
“Can we do something stupid tonight?” he asked, dropping the subject for now. Rae hitched a hand on her hip, her expression changing from serious to sarcastic in the blink of an eye.
“You already bought me a cat. I think you’ve met your quota for the day.”
“You’re going to end up loving George, just you wait.”
“Sure,” she grumbled with a grin, then tapped the edge of the shopping cart. “I do have an idea of what to do tonight, though. If you’re up for it.”
He gave her a look like she should know better. After all, Tommy was always up for anything. Except for maybe his best friend moving away.
But with any luck, her plans were about to change.
After dropping off food and setting up a cat potty, Rae put on a dab of lipstick, spritzed a little more of the magic perfume she got from the Passion Party, and headed out with Tommy. He raised a brow at her impromptu makeup.
“Don’t say it,” she said, buckling her seatbelt.
“Planning on seeing someone tonight? Or is that lipstick for little ol’ me?”
“It’s for me,” she lied. “Just drive.”
“Need to know where I’m headed.”
She plugged in Gavin’s bar address, keeping her lips shut. Tommy clued in at the halfway point and let out a long growl.
“I told you no dating app till after V-Day.”
“I just want a round of pool.”
“Uh huh.”
“Maybe a round of virgin rum and Coke.”
“So Coke.”
“Just thinking of you.”
“I’m sure you were.” He quirked a grin at her, bumping the car up against the curb outside the bar. The place wasn’t too crowded, and she didn’t expect it to be on a Wednesday night. The glow of the sign lit up Tommy’s wild blond head and shone on the peek of tattoo coming out of the sleeve of his jacket. She let her gaze linger on the ink, a deep wave of sorrow plunging through her. She wondered who he’d get to tattoo him if she moved to Vegas. Who would tattoo her?
The engine cut off, and the click of Tommy’s seatbelt jolted her from her thoughts. He blew out a faux annoyed sigh and pushed out of the car, meeting her at the headlights. He was taking the news surprisingly well, even if he was covering up how he really felt with humor and razzing.
“You smell like peaches,” he blurted as they met on the sidewalk.
She snorted. “Good.”
“New perfume or something?”
“Or something.” She grabbed the handle of the bar door and swung it open for him. The place was pretty empty. Only a few seats at the bar were taken and all the pool tables were open. A section of the bar was closed off for renovation, and half the chairs didn’t match. A TV set to the sports highlights hung in the far corner and another set to The Big Bang Theory hung behind the bar. A man halfway through a beer slapped the bartop, laughing at whatever was just said on the show.
“This place really died, didn’t it?” Tommy said, and Rae backhanded him in the chest.
“Give the guy a break. He’s mid-fix-up.”
“So we are here to see Gavin.”
Whoops. “No.”
Tommy sighed again, his shoulders deflating. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her toward the bar. “Come on. I’ll get you your virgin rum and Coke and a few words with Mr. Broken Promise to Your Best Friend. But then it’s just you and me, ‘kay?”
“Jealous?” she teased. His hand twitched against her hip, sending goosebumps up and down her sides.
“I potentially got a small amount of time left with you. I can be selfish.”
There it was—the fear she’d sensed in the store when she’d dropped the Vegas bomb. It sat on the edge of his brown eyes, only peeking out for a moment before he laughed it away.
She wanted to reassure him that she hadn’t fully decided, but it was more her style to just joke along with him, so she slid onto a bar stool and eyed a menu.
“Shirley Temple?” She pointed at the drink on the laminated drink menu. Tommy stuck his tongue out and pushed the menu back at her. Ever since he got sober, he was offered a Shirley Temple wherever they went, and now it was an ongoing joke. He hated the drink, and Rae knew he missed the taste of tequila, but she was proud of him for staying away from the temptation of alcohol.
The door behind the bar opened, and a muscular god stepped through. Rae straightened in her seat, suppressing a nervous grin at the gorgeous man. Gavin Mills was billionaire Ashton’s twin brother, but there were slight differences between the two beyond their choice of work. Ashton was taller, but Gavin was bulkier, probably from all the hard labor he put into the bar. Gavin was clean shaven, but had the look of someone rough and tough. Rae secretly wondered if he had a motorcycle, but after the last date she’d had, motorcycles weren’t high on her list of turn-ons anymore.
“Put your tongue back in your mouth,” Tommy whispered with a laugh. She pinched his side but pressed her lips together in case she was drooling. How could a guy like that be interested in her? It was almost as ridiculous as Tommy suddenly developing feelings. Her eyes drifted from Gavin to her best friend.
With Tommy’s jacket off, his sleeve of tattoos was on display, her artwork of his adventures catalogued on his skin. Tommy had always been thinner, but veins lined his biceps, his forearms strong and safe. He had artist hands, long and thin and permanently ink-stained.
“You made it.” Gavin pressed his palms against the bartop, offering up a friendly smile. His green eyes sparkled with surprise and excitement that made her heart tingle. Was that look for her? Sweet jebus.
“I convinced the ol’ bestie to scope you out.” She jammed an elbow into Tommy’s arm, and maybe it was because she’d just been admiring his muscles, but it was a lot firmer than she expected.
Gavin tilted a curious head at Tommy and her, and she scrutinized every twitch in his face. This was a test, and she was sure Gavin knew it by the knowing look in his eyes as they swiveled between the two. His cool bartender demeanor shone through, and he stuck his hand out for Tommy to shake.
“Gavin,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”
“We’ve met,” Tommy said, his tone off. Rae had the urge to smack him in the back of the head and tell him to be nice. “Thomas Varner.”
Ah, the full name. Like she did, when Tommy pulled out the last name in introductions, he was either trying to impress someone—using his famous daddy’s last name—or intimidate them.
If Gavin was intimidated, he didn’t show it. “What can I get for you?”
“Virgin rum and Cokes,” Rae joked. Her reward was a sexy chuckle from the bartender as he reached under the counter and flipped a glass in his hand. A wrinkle appeared above Tommy’s nose as he watched Gavin showboat filling up glasses.
“So, what’s up with the dust?” Tommy said, pulling his glass closer.
“Ah, yeah… Sorry ‘bout that. It’s taking a lot longer than I hoped to get the new stuff up and running.”
“We know about that,” Rae said with a subtle kick to Tommy’s shin right as he put the Coke to his lips. The soda dribbled over his chin, and he grimaced at her and wiped it up with a napkin. “When we opened Tommy’s Tats, we had to share a chair or use this beat up futon.”
“Yikes. I’d hate to be the person lying on that for the length of a tattoo.”