Going Inksane (Nice Ink Book 1)

by Trish Edmisten

  “So, how long have you been a nurse?”

  “Almost five years. How long you have been a tattoo artist?”

  “I’m not an artist. I’m just the shop manager.”

  “How long have you been doing that?”

  “Here? About four years.”

  The bell over the door tinkled announcing the arrival of another wave of customers.

  “Sorry, I need to handle this,” Damian said. “If you want to take a seat, Heath should be out shortly.”

  “No problem.”

  Picking up my pan and feeling a little silly, I moved to sit in one of the chairs along the wall. The pair that had been there when I came in was still sitting there. When I snuck a look at what they were doing, I realized they were flipping through a binder filled with pictures of colorful tattoos. None of them were 3D so I didn’t think it was Heath’s work.

  With nothing else to do while I waited, I joined them in looking at the book but tried not to be obvious about it. Whoever had done the work was really talented. The colors bursting from the pages reminded me of the ink on Damian’s arms, bright and inviting.

  “Damian will settle up with you.”

  Heath’s deep, velvety voice drew my attention from the book. When I looked up, he already had his eyes locked on me, and I was relieved to see the big smile on his face. I’d been a little worried that showing up unannounced at his work might be a bit pushy.

  I waited until he and Damian finished up with his customer before I joined them at the counter.

  “I hope it’s okay that I came by,” I said, and Damian snorted.

  “You’re always welcome here,” Heath assured me, and I smiled at him.

  God, he really was beautiful. For the first time in years, I felt the stirring of desire in my belly and I wanted to climb him like a tree and smother him in kisses.

  “I brought dinner.” I held the tray in his direction. “It’s my mom’s lasagna.”

  Damian groaned. “Ah, man, I love lasagna.”

  “Too bad it’s not for you,” Heath retorted.

  “There’s enough for everyone,” I said, and Damian smirked.

  “Doesn’t mean I’m going to share with these vultures,” Heath said.

  “Excuse me.” One of the girls I’d been sitting next to stepped up to the counter and placed the binder atop it. Batting her eyes at Heath, she asked, “Are you the one who did the tattoos in this book?”

  Heath glanced at it. “No, that’s my brother’s work.”

  “Can I see some of your work?” she asked.

  “I can take care of that while you take care of your man,” Damian offered.

  “I should probably get going,” I said. “I just wanted to bring you this.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Heath said.

  When he came from behind the counter, both women in the lobby tracked his every move. Not that I blamed them. Heath was sexy as hell, moving in a way that should have been too graceful given his size.

  Stepping beside me, he placed a hand at the small of my back, and I couldn’t help the satisfaction that welled up inside me at such a public claiming.

  “See you around, Nurse Ned,” Damian said. “And thanks for dinner.”

  “Stay out of my dinner,” Heath warned before leading me outside.

  “There really is enough to share,” I assured him.

  “I’ll probably share. I just like messing with him.”

  When we reached my car, I unlocked the door but didn’t make a move to get in.

  “Thanks for bringing me dinner. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know.” I smiled up at him. “I wanted to.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Because you’re hungry?” I teased.

  “Because I’m glad to see you.”

  The blush that filled my cheeks was partly due to his compliment but mostly because of the huskiness his voice had taken on. That combined with the intensity in his glittering eyes.

  “I know I probably shouldn’t, but I like the way you do that,” Heath said.

  “Do what?” I practically whispered the words.

  “The way you blush,” Heath said, lifting a hand to drag the back of his knuckles down my heated cheeks.

  Of course, that only made me blush hotter. Heath didn’t seem to mind though. I’d always hated being so quick to blush, but looking at the way Heath’s blue eyes darkened, I decided maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

  It had been a long time since a man had looked at me like he wanted to devour me. I should have been afraid of it, but I wasn’t because I wasn’t afraid of him. After what happened to me, I’d learned to be more careful about who I let close to me. Heath may have looked dangerous with his tattoos and muscles, but I knew he wouldn’t hurt me; at least not physically.

  “Did you still want to come over for dinner next week?” I asked.

  “Just name the day and time and I’m there.”

  “What about work?”

  “I’ll reschedule any appointments I have.”

  I wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to do that, because he didn’t, but I just smiled. It was nice to have someone so interested in spending time with me that work took a back seat.

  “Okay, well, I have to work for the next three days so how about Monday at seven?”

  “Works for me. Do you need me to bring anything?”

  “I don’t know yet, but if I do, I’ll let you know.”

  “Sounds good,” Heath said and glanced at his watch. “I’d better get back in there if I want to eat before my next appointment.”

  “I hope you like it.”

  “I’m sure I will and tell your mom thanks for sharing.”

  “I will,” I said, smiling. “I guess I’ll see you Monday then.”

  Heath flashed me a grin. “No guessing about it.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you Monday.” I laughed.

  “You’ll see me Monday.” Leaning forward, he pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek. “Drive carefully, Ned.”

  “I will.”

  I knew I was giving him a dopey grin, but I couldn’t help that he brought out that side of me.

  Heath waited until I was in my car and backing out of the parking stall before he turned and went back into the shop.

  As I drove away, I held my fingers to my cheek that was still tingling from the gentle brush of his lips. So far, Heath had been a perfect gentleman. While I appreciated it, because it was exactly what I needed, I looked forward to the day when I would feel his lips on mine.

  Chapter Eleven

  Heath

  Before I even made it back inside, I knew the guys were going to give me shit, but I didn’t care. Having Ned bring me dinner was worth any amount of trash talking from those jealous bastards.

  I wasn’t surprised when I opened the door and found the vultures already circling my dinner. The lid to the pan had been removed and Damian and X were both hunched over it. No doubt the only reason Cooper and Flynn weren’t in on the action was that both of them were still working on their customers.

  Damian looked up at me with a grin. “Man, this smells good.”

  “Let’s hope it tastes as good,” X said, reaching into the pan.

  Darting forward, I snagged the pan from the counter before he could get his greedy hands on it. “Dude, that’s mine.”

  “Ah, man, don’t be like that,” X said, and I swear it looked like he was actually pouting.

  “Ned said there was plenty for all of us,” Damian reminded me.

  “Just because he was too nice to tell you to back off doesn’t mean I am.” Not letting go of my prize, I looked at X. “Don’t you have a customer back there anyway?”

  “Nope, I finished up while you were outside thanking your man.”

  When Cooper came from the back with his customer in tow, Damian was forced to abandon the argument. With Damian’s attention diverted, I took the opportunity to grab the lid from the counter and secure it over
the pan before picking up the bread which they had thankfully left alone.

  I headed back to my station with X trailing behind me like a lost puppy.

  “Are you seriously not gonna share?” X’s question bordered on whiny.

  “I might have if you hadn’t put your hands on it before I even saw it.”

  I kept a tight grip on the pan as I entered my station. Normally, I would have placed it on the counter, but I didn’t trust X not to snatch it up as soon as I did.

  “I heard there was dinner in here,” Cooper said, coming in behind X.

  “Yeah, there is, but it’s for me,” I answered.

  Damian strutted toward us with a smug look on his face. “Your next appointment is here, Heath.”

  Damn it. Now I was screwed. As soon as I left to meet the guy at the front, my so-called friends were going to swoop in and steal my dinner.

  I contemplated asking Damian to bring the guy back, but that wasn’t my style.

  Heaving a defeated sigh, I placed the bread and lasagna on the counter. “Be sure to leave me at least one piece.”

  The sound of their laughter, which was pretty much what you’d expect to hear from a pack of hyenas, chased me from my station.

  “I can definitely make that work,” I told the guy sitting in my chair.

  Daniel had come into the shop just for a consultation. I liked those. Too often, people came in thinking they were going to pick some flash piece off the wall and walk away tattooed that night.

  We could do same day tattoos, but those were typically reserved for people who didn’t want something with real meaning. Over the years, I had lost count of how many butterflies, hearts and cartoon characters I’d put on people’s skin. Sure, it meant something to the person getting it, even if they didn’t always realize it, but there wasn’t a deeper meaning.

  The pieces that had deeper meaning took more care. Like Derek getting a tattoo of his badge with the bullet hole. It was a reminder of the dangers of his job and how close he had come. I wanted to take care with something like that.

  Daniel was looking to get a tattoo for some brothers he’d lost overseas. Sadly, it was a piece we had all done a lot since troops had been sent to Iraq and Afghanistan. As honored as I was to do it, I hated that I had to.

  This one was going on his back, and it was going to be big enough that it would likely take a couple of sittings to complete, which I told him.

  “I don’t care how long it takes,” Daniel said. “I just want it done right, and from what I’ve seen of your work, you’re the best.”

  “If you’ll give me a couple of days to draw this up, we can get started Tuesday night if you’re free. If that’s not good, we’ll work something out.”

  “Tuesday’s good, man.”

  “Will seven work, or is that too late?”

  “Nah, seven is good. I have the day shift all this week.”

  “All right, sounds good. Let me walk you out.”

  I got to my feet and led him to the front. Our shop wasn’t a maze. People could easily find their way out, but it was bad business to just send people on their way instead of giving a more personal touch.

  When we reached the front counter, I shook his hand. “See you Tuesday.”

  “See ya,” Daniel said.

  Damian waited until the customer was outside before he asked, “What time on Tuesday?”

  “Seven,” I answered, and he flipped to the appointment book.

  I already knew he was going to give me a blast of shit for scheduling the appointment without asking him if I was free. I always did it, and he always bitched. The thing was I already knew I was free. I checked the book before taking the customer back there. I always did. It was just easier that way.

  I could have pointed that out to Damian, but he would have just argued that he could have added something without my knowledge and then I would have been screwed. It was an empty threat though. Damian always checked with us before he scheduled appointments. It was one of the many things that made him an outstanding manager.

  And because he was so good at his job, and I thought of him as another little brother, I always let him say his piece. Something he was about to do now as he lifted his head to look at me with a cute little scowl on his face.

  “You’re lucky you don’t have anyone scheduled. Next time check with me first.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

  “Ah, don’t be like that. You know I love you, D.”

  “You just love the D,” X called out.

  Don’t ask me how, but that mother fucker had a talent for inserting himself into any conversation at just the right time.

  “As long as it’s not yours,” I retorted as I made my way back to my station.

  Everyone in the shop burst into laughter. Except for Flynn, but he did crack a smile.

  I’m sure the customers thought we were joking. It probably never occurred to most of the people we inked that we weren’t kidding when we made references to being gay. Nor was I kidding about liking any dick as long as it didn’t belong to X.

  I couldn’t say I’d never seen it. I had and the fucker had reason to brag. Not that I had been shortchanged in that department. I just had no interest in getting anywhere near X’s dick. I would leave that to the herd of twinks that threw themselves at him every time he set foot inside Whispers.

  It had finally slowed down enough that only Flynn was tattooing right now and X was going over the aftercare instructions with his customer. Cooper had already done a couple of tattoos and a piercing though and he had an appointment scheduled for another tattoo. At the moment, he sat at his station engrossed in his latest sketch, which was probably for a future customer.

  Business would pick up later. That was always the way it happened. Sunday through Thursday things were slow but steady while Friday and Saturday were our two busiest days of the week. Probably because more people were off work and had the time to get their ink done and not because they were out drinking.

  We didn’t tattoo people who were drunk. You had to be sober for us to tattoo you, and it had nothing to do with trying to save you from the regret. I didn’t give a shit about people’s regrets. The truth was drunk people were harder to tattoo since they usually couldn’t sit still long enough for us to lay down good work.

  With some free time before my next appointment came in, I decided to get started on Daniel’s piece.

  During the day, if we weren’t tattooing, or tattooing and piercing in Cooper’s case, the drawings we did were usually the result of consults we’d done. With as much drawing and tattooing as we did during the day, you would think it was the last thing we wanted to do when we left. It was the opposite for me. Being able to draw on my own was my chance to let my creative side take over.

  We all felt that way, and it showed in the original drawings hanging around the shop. All of those drawings were for sale, and every once in a while we would sell a piece to a customer who either liked our work that much or liked us that much. I didn’t care what the reason was. I was happy as a pig in shit every time one of my original drawings sold.

  I had just pulled out my sketchbook when Damian showed up at my station.

  “What’s up?”

  “Couple of guys want a consultation.”

  “Are they hot?” Cooper piped up. “Because if they are, I’m all over that.”

  “Even if they’re not hot, let Cooper do it. I just finished one,” I reminded him.

  Yeah, it had been a scheduled consultation, but that didn’t negate the fact that I had just done it.

  “Sorry, Coop, but they asked for Heath by name,” Damian said. Leaning forward, he whispered, “And yes, they are hot as the flames of hell. Pretty sure at least one is gay too from the way he was checking me out.”

  “That is just unfair,” Cooper said with a pout. “You got the hot gay cop last week. Would it kill you to share the wealth?”

  “Not my fault word’s out that I�
��m God’s gift to the gays,” I joked.

  Cooper gave an exaggerated shiver while Damian laughed.

  I was kidding. Whenever people asked for one of us by name, it was usually because they’d gotten a recommendation from a friend or family member. That’s not to say we hadn’t been sought out because we were gay. When members of the gay community found out there was a gay friendly tattoo shop in town, they tended to stick to that place. Support the family and all that.

  I had to give it to Damian. The two guys waiting at the counter were as advertised.

  They were the same height and looked enough alike that I was sure they were brothers. Both had brown hair and eyes and were the same height. While both were leanly muscled, the one on the right was a little more muscular. Each man was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, one navy blue and one black. One wore Vans tennis shoes and the other Converse.

  “This is Heath,” Damian informed them.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking one man’s hand and then the other.

  When they both looked me up and down a little longer than could be considered polite, I figured they were both gay and not just one.

  “What can I do for you guys?”

  “I was thinking about getting tattooed,” Navy Blue shirt said.

  “If you wanted to come back, we can talk about what you want,” I offered and they both nodded.

  There was something weird about them. Not necessarily in a bad way, but in their similarities. They didn’t just look alike, they moved alike. When they nodded, it had been in perfect synch, almost like it was choreographed. And when I’d first come from the back, it was to find them standing at the counter with their arms folded in the exact same position.

  As they followed me, I slid my gaze over my shoulder. Sure enough, they were taking the exact same strides. What was up with these two? Maybe they were fraternal twins.

  Cooper’s eyes lit up when he spotted them behind me, and I had no doubt he would make his way to my station before they were gone.