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Wilde Ink (Wilde Brothers Book 3)

Page 4

by Susan Hayes


  He grabbed a scrap piece of paper and a pen and started writing.

  ****

  Lia was out of time, and out of options. The cab she’d called for hadn’t arrived by the time the garage closed for the night, and there wasn’t much chance of one arriving any time soon. When she called again, they told her the streets were a mess and it could be hours. Jo and her fiancé had offered to give her a ride, but she didn’t want to impose on their date. Her parents were taking a much needed night off, so there was only one other option, and he was currently sitting in his shop on the far side of the parking lot.

  Shit.

  She called the cab company and let them know she wouldn’t be needing them. The way it was snowing now, she could probably walk home faster anyway. Not that she was going to try. No, she was going to have to brave the smug lion in his den and ask Nick if he would still be willing to drive her home. Danny had already agreed to drive her in to work tomorrow morning. He’d grumbled at first, but changed his tune the second she informed him she knew all about his part in today’s arranged meeting. After that, he was too busy apologizing to complain.

  Gloved hands jammed into her pockets, hood up, and head down, she made the short trek from the garage to Nick’s shop. The place was called “Wilde Ink.” Well, didn’t that sum up the man and his business nicely. When she got close enough to see inside, her feet stopped moving and she just stared. Nick was bent over a desk, his bare back to her as he worked intently on something in front of him.

  His skin was a work of art, painted over a body that was made for sin. A pair of what looked like raven’s wings covered most of his back, with the wingtips crossing just above the waistband of his jeans. The entire length of his spine was covered by a criss-cross pattern of interwoven black and gray lines. As she watched, she could almost see the feathers on his wings ripple and shift, they looked so real.

  A gust of snow-laden wind struck her face, making her blink. How long had she been standing out here, staring at his bare back? And for that matter, why the hell was he shirtless? She better move it before he turned around and caught her gawking at him. His ego didn’t need that kind of boost.

  She half expected the door to be locked, but he’d left it open for her. Lia wasn’t sure if she should be pleased at his thoughtfulness or irritated that he assumed she’d change her mind. She went with annoyed. It would make it easier to keep him at a distance. He’d been damned tempting with all his clothes on. Seeing him like this was a hundred times worse.

  The door chimed, alerting him to her arrival and he glanced over his shoulder, smiling when he saw who it was. “I wasn’t really expecting to see you so soon. Having trouble getting home?”

  She took a few steps into the shop and let the door fall shut behind her. Once inside, she was struck with a few impressions right off the bat. There was music playing, but it wasn’t a rock anthem or rap song like she’d expected. Instead, it was something classical, as dark and pounding as the storm outside. The shop itself wasn’t how she’d imagined, either. It was clean and well organized, with clearly defined work areas and not a speck of grime anywhere.

  The door clicked shut behind her, and Lia’s heart beat a little faster. She felt a strong urge to turn around and march right back out again. This wasn’t just a bad idea. It was an idea so bad, monuments would be erected in its memory one day. She forced herself to stand her ground. For fuck’s sake, she could interrogate hardened criminals and make them confess, what was it about Nick Wilde that threw her so completely off her game? “You were right about the odds of me getting a cab any time before spring. I was hoping you might still be willing to give me a ride home.”

  “I would be happy to give you a lift home, Lia.” He spun around on his stool, given her an eyeful of well-toned muscle and more tattoos. Just looking at him had her body temperature climbing and her fingers itching with the need to touch the whirling lines of color and form that graced his body from shoulder to wrist. She wanted to ask him why he was half naked, but she was also enjoying the view, so she opted to leave that question for now.

  “Thank you. It’s a foul night and I wouldn’t blame you if you’d changed your mind”

  He tipped his head to one side and gave her an assessing look, his storm-blue eyes narrowing just a little. “You really don’t think much of me if you think I’d take back my offer. If I said no, you’ve got no other means to get home, do you?”

  “I could walk.”

  “Not in this neighborhood, and not in this weather. My big brother would kick my ass if he found out I let one of his people freeze to death while trying to walk home. Well, he’d try and kick my ass. He hasn’t been able to since I hit puberty, and lord knows he’s tried a few times.” Nick shrugged and she was momentarily distracted by the way his muscles bunched and slid beneath his skin.

  “Wait. You’re telling me you and he still fight?”

  “We’re brothers. Of course we still fight. Don’t let the silk tie and “I am a professional” demeanor fool you either. Dave is a dirty fighting bastard when he gets mad.”

  “I can’t see it.”

  “He’s a Wilde. That’s not just our last name. It’s a working definition of who we are.”

  “If that’s true, then I feel for your poor mother.”

  Nick grinned and she felt the impact of his smile like a physical caress, heating her from the inside out. “You know, people say that a lot. I only need a couple of minutes to finish up what I’m working on, and then we can go. If that’s okay with you?”

  She nodded, feeling a little off balance from his casual attitude. Where was the man who had stormed in and kissed her not that long ago? Not that she wasn’t happy that he was giving her a bit more space, but… No. She wasn’t going there. She was grateful he seemed to have accepted her lack of interest. Period. No buts.

  “I won’t be long. Have a seat.”

  “I’ve been sitting over at Jo’s for an hour, I think I’ll stand for a bit and stretch my legs.”

  “Whatever works for you.” He gave her a lazy grin and then turned back toward his desk, leaving her in peace. She ignored the couch and the dog-eared magazines on the waiting room table, opting instead to take a look at the dozens of photographs that filled the walls. Each one was in a simple, black frame, and every photo was of a different tattoo. Some of pieces were small, and others were so elaborate they must have taken hours to complete. Lia had never understood why people would do that to themselves. Not just the permanent marking of their bodies, but the pain they endured in the process.

  As she perused the pictures, she couldn’t help but glance over at Nick every few minutes. His tattoos were even more beautiful up close. She could see he had a tiger tattooed the length of his right arm. The beast’s head was near his shoulder, and its tail was wrapped several times around his wrist. His left arm was tattooed as well, but it was a collection of images rather than one large piece. She was more than a little tempted to go behind the counter and get a better look. Who was she kidding? There was no denying that she wanted to do more than look. She wanted to touch him, explore every swirl and line of ink, and do it all again with her mouth. She hadn’t felt like this about a guy in…shit. She’d never reacted like this to a man before, had never let herself be close to anyone who could tempt her, and yet here she was, alone with him and thinking of things that could only lead to trouble and heartache.

  “Worst idea ever.” Shit! She hadn’t meant to say those words out loud.

  “What is?” Nick asked, turning to look at her again. She latched on to the first thing that popped into her head, because she’d be damned if she was going to tell him the truth.

  “Uh…tattoos.” She gestured to one of the pictures close to her, pretending that had been what she’d been talking about. It showed a man’s shoulder that had been tattooed so that a pair of skeletal hands appeared to be tearing away the man’s flesh from the inside. “That one, for example. That’s a terrifying image. Why would he wan
t that on his body forever?”

  “Everyone’s reasons are different. Some people do it for shock value, and some regret their choices later. Most don’t though. I take it you don’t have any ink?” Nick was watching her intently, and as he talked he lazily twirled the pen in his hand from finger to finger. He had taken her comment in stride, and Lia belatedly realized that he must hear negative comments about his work fairly often.

  “Me? No. To be honest, I’ve never been in a tattoo shop that didn’t make me feel like taking a shower in disinfectant right afterward. Your place is different.”

  He perked up a little at that, and there was pride in his voice as he gestured around the space. “We’re health board certified. You could eat off any surface in here. Not that I’d allow that. No eating at the workstations, it’s unhygienic.”

  Nick caught sight of his bare arm and actually winced as he realized what his state of dress was…or wasn’t. “I don’t normally work half-dressed, either. Sorry. My top got wet earlier and I hate wearing clammy clothes.”

  Lia couldn’t be sure, but she thought his ears turned the slightest shade of pink as he rose and snagged a dark blue sweater off the wall hook it had been hanging on. He tugged it over his head, and she felt a pang of loss as he covered up. Not that he was any less tempting fully dressed. She knew what he was hiding under that shirt now, and that memory was very likely going to become one of her favorite late night fantasies.

  “Your tattoos…”she started and then trailed off, not sure what she was going to say.

  “What about them?” He crossed his arms over his sculpted chest and she could almost see his shields going up.

  “Why raven wings?”

  He relaxed almost instantly. “They’re very smart birds, cunning and clever enough to problem solve on their own. Ravens are survivors too. Most people don’t appreciate them though. They think they’re bad omens, or carrion-eating pests.”

  “And you do? Appreciate them, I mean.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly and then he nodded once. “I do. To be honest I’m impressed you knew what my tats were. Most people who see them think they’re black angel wings.”

  “Seriously? Who would mistake you for an angel?” Lia laughed and shook her head at that idea. “Maybe a fallen angel.”

  “Did you just imply I’m a demon of hell, Lia Archer? Because that’s no way to speak of the man who is driving you home.”

  “I didn’t imply it. I said it outright. If the feathers fit…” she threw his earlier words back at him with a grin.

  He threw up his hands in mocking surrender. “I deserved that one. I think we’re done here. Let’s get you home.”

  Minutes later he led her out the back of the shop. He actually opened the passenger door of his truck and helped her inside before he went to work clearing the snow off the windshield. Being that close to him, a part of her had hoped he’d try and kiss her again, but he was a complete gentleman. That was a good thing. Wasn’t it? She watched him through the windshield, trying to decide if she was happy or not that he was clearly respecting her declaration that there would be nothing between them.

  By the time he joined her in the cab and pulled out of the parking lot, she still hadn’t made up her mind. All she knew for certain was that he had her thinking of things she hadn’t allowed herself to consider since the night she’d lost her virginity.

  The night her brother died.

  Chapter Four

  Lia got to work early enough to make up for her lateness the day before, thanks to Danny’s promptness. He’d even picked up a latte from her favorite coffee shop on his way over. He’d apologized too, but the truth was, Lia wasn’t nearly as angry with him as she had been last night. Maybe it was because the storm had passed, leaving the city sparkling like a diamond in the rare winter sunshine, or maybe it was because crossing paths with Nick again hadn’t turned out to be a total fiasco. He had dropped her off at her parents’ store at her request, even opening her door for her and escorting her to the storefront before saying goodnight. He’d never once tried to kiss her, or even flirt with her during the drive.

  She felt as if her life was finally back on solid ground again, which was how she wanted it. Safe, steady and stable, that was the goal. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. Every time her thoughts strayed to Nick, she firmly pushed him out of her mind and went back to work. She and her partner, Alan, had been working a string of convenience store robberies, and they were closing in on their two suspects. So far, no one had been hurt, and Lia was determined to track them down before that changed. This was the reason she’d joined the police force. To prevent what had befallen her brother from happening to someone else.

  Bill Nayer, one of the veteran detectives on her shift, wandered into the workroom sometime after lunch and bellowed at her. “Hey, Archer. Front desk gave me a message for ya’ when I was coming in. You got a delivery.”

  She frowned, confused. She wasn’t expecting anything. “Did they say what it was?”

  “Yeah. A delivery. You want more details, go downstairs and ask ‘em yourself, sweetheart.”

  “That’s Detective Sweetheart to you,” she snapped at him as she saved her file on the computer and stood. Bill snorted with laughter and went back to his desk without further comment as she headed for the elevator. Lia had learned a long time ago that the easiest way to get along in a mostly male workforce was to have thick skin and a ready supply of snappy comebacks. In her case, she added another layer of defense by downplaying her looks. Usually that was enough to let her blend into the background, leaving people to judge her on her abilities, not her appearance.

  Nick was apparently an exception. He’d kissed her last night despite the fact she was dressed for work, frazzled and tired after a long day. He’d wanted her anyway. But then he’d kept his distance.

  Because I told him to.

  The elevator doors opened and Lia banished all thoughts of Nick to the back of her mind for the hundredth time that day as she went to see about her delivery. It had to be a mistake. No one ever sent her anything.

  It wasn’t a mistake. The card was addressed to Detective Lia Archer, but instead of a signature at the end, there was a tiny drawing of a raven’s wing. Nick. Well, of course he’d know where to find her. She’d told him she worked with his brother. Had she forgotten something in his truck last night? Curious, Lia picked up the plain cardboard box and was surprised at how heavy it was. Whatever Nick had sent her, it wasn’t something that had just fallen out of her purse. What the hell had he sent her, and why?

  She took her gift back to her desk, ignoring the curious looks she was getting from the other detectives. She’d briefly considered going to the break room or even an empty interrogation room to open it in private, but the reality was there wasn’t anywhere truly private she could go. Hell, she worked with a group of people who sniffed out secrets and lies as a career, so there was nothing to do but brazen it out.

  Something inside the box shifted and rolled as she set it down, and Lia’s curiosity got the better of her. She pulled her pocket knife out, sliced through the tape and tugged open the flaps to see what he’d sent her.

  What the hell?

  There were two small, gift wrapped boxes inside, along with a large, roundish object wrapped in silvery colored tissue paper. Each item had a number written on it in black felt pen. She picked up number one, the larger, oblong item, tearing away the tissue paper to find she was holding a yellow squash covered in drawings. She stared at it, her eyes widening as she realized what it was. Nick had transformed a simple vegetable into a fairytale carriage. Every detail had been done with painstaking care, and as she turned it this way and that in her hands she couldn’t help but wonder at all the work he’d put into it. Or why he was sending it to her at all.

  “There’s a note there,” her partner had arrived at some point and was currently pointing to a sheet of folded paper lying on the bottom of the box. Lia glanced around and sighed a
s she realized she had an audience. Not one of her co-workers was at their desk anymore. They were all gathered around her, watching with great interest.

  “You got an admirer, Archer?” someone asked.

  “Or a stalker, maybe. Who the fuck sends a woman a vegetable with doodles? What happened to chocolates and flowers?”

  “It’s just a gift from a friend. He’s an artist.” Several of the guys nodded as if that explained everything.

  She set the carriage down carefully on her desk and picked up the note.

  Cin,

  Pumpkins are out of season, so I had to improvise. Place gift one and gift two together on your desk. To summon transportation for tonight, take gift three in your hand, call 312-555-4633, and speak the magic words.”

  N.

  PS. In case you haven’t guessed, the magic words are Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo.

  “He’s out of his mind,” she muttered, setting the note face down on the table. If she was smart, she’d put everything back in the box without opening the other gifts. This was exactly the kind of attention she didn’t want to attract from her new co-workers. Here she was, distracted from her work in the middle of the day, playing with presents instead of working her leads. She was about to put everything away when Bill’s rough voice rumbled from somewhere behind her.

  “C’mon, sweetheart, share with the class. Who is this guy and what’s in the other presents?”

  “You guys don’t have anything better to do?” she asked.

  “Nope. So get on with it already.” There was a general murmur of agreement, and Lia gave up arguing and opened the next gift. Four catnip mice were inside, each one with a bit of gold string tied around them in a makeshift harness. Mice? Why was he sending her tied up mice and what did they have to do with—shit. The answer came clear as she finally remembered where she’d heard the words Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo, before. Cinderella.

 

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