Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Epilogue
Preview of Soul Sisters
Preview of Hammer
About the Author
RORY
A Brothers Ink Story
By
Nicole James
RORY
~Brothers Ink Tattoo~
Book 4
By
Nicole James
Published by Nicole James
Copyright 2019 Nicole James
All Rights Reserved
Front Cover Art by Viola Estrella
Front Cover Photography by Period Images
Back Cover Art by Mayhem Creations
Chapter One
August—
Rory bent over the hip of his client, the tattoo machine in his steady hand as he worked the swirling lines along her skin. She was reclined on her side on the padded table. He paused to swipe away the excess ink and blood, then reapplied the needle.
The girl sucked in a breath, her flat, toned stomach quivering, and he glanced up. She was just twenty, and this was her first tattoo—one she’d told him she’d saved up for all year.
“You doing okay, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she replied, but her voice was tight, and he could tell the sting was getting to her. She’d been sitting for almost an hour. “How much longer?”
“Just about finished. Can you hold out another couple of minutes?”
She nodded, blowing out a long breath.
“That’s my girl. You’re doing great.” He glanced up to give her one of his killer smiles.
She flushed at his praise.
Rock music pulsed through Brothers Ink, the shop his oldest brother had started up years ago. Now all four of the O’Rourke brothers worked here. It was the family business, the one Jameson had supported them all with when their parents died. It had also become Grand Junction, Colorado’s primo shop.
Brothers Ink meant a lot to Rory. It meant family. It meant home. But tattooing wasn’t his passion; music was. He played guitar, and he had a decent voice, and he hoped one day he’d be able to pay the bills with his music.
The girl blew out another long, slow breath.
“All finished.” Rory shut off the machine and wiped her skin clean. Taking her hand, he pulled her to a sitting position and helped her off the padded table. He gestured to the mirror on the far wall. “Take a look.”
She moved to it and twisted, studying the reflection. “Oh, my God, I love it!”
Rory couldn’t help but be pleased by her reaction. In his heart he was a musician, but art of any kind was fulfilling.
“My girlfriend said you were good, and she was right.”
“Thanks. Glad you’re happy with the work.” He jerked his chin. “I still need to bandage it.”
She stood still while he placed a square piece of gauze over the ink and taped it down.
When Rory was finished, he pulled his gloves off with a snap and tossed them in the trash. Then he handed her a sheet of aftercare instructions. “Everything you need to do is spelled out here. I’ll give you some ointment. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call the number on the bottom.”
She smiled as if he’d given her his personal cell phone number. She paused, staring down at the paper, then tilted her head and gave him a flirtatious look. “Is it true you’re the lead guitarist for Convicted Chrome?”
He nodded. “Guilty as charged.”
“Could I get a picture with you?”
He smiled, indulging her. “Of course, honey. Come here.” He put his arm around her shoulders and pressed his cheek to hers as she held her phone out and clicked the picture.
“Thank you so much!”
“No problem, sweetheart. Let’s get you rung up.” He guided her to the register.
His brother Liam, only two years his senior, stood at the front counter, finishing with one of his customers. “One more session and we should be able to get that piece knocked out.”
The man nodded, taking his receipt. “Great. I can’t wait.”
“See you then.”
When the guy left, Rory moved to the register, which really wasn’t a register at all, but a state-of-the-art, point-of-sale system complete with touch screen and chip reader. It was something Jameson’s wife, Ava had introduced to the shop for efficiency and brought Jameson—who’d fought it tooth-and-nail—finally into the computer age. And all the brothers were grateful to her for doing the impossible. None of them had been able to succeed in convincing Jameson to make changes, something he hated.
Liam bent to Rory’s ear. “You’ve got three hotties waiting for you.”
Rory twisted his head to look at the leather couch and velvet chairs in the lobby. Sure enough there were three chicks, all watching him and giggling to each other. He thought he recognized them from the last show his band had done in town, but that was months ago. Now his band was the opening act for female rocker, Charlotte Justice.
They’d just wrapped the California leg of the tour, and this weekend they’d be starting another run of shows, kicking it off with the Fillmore Auditorium in Denver. “I can’t take anymore clients today. I gotta get on the road. I’m already running late getting out of here.”
Liam chuckled. “Then you tell ‘em. I’ve got to clean my station before you leave.”
“Thanks for nothing.”
“Anytime,” Liam called over his shoulder, his laughter echoing through the place.
After he finished taking her payment, Rory’s client looked over her shoulder at the other women. “You must get that all the time, huh? Now I feel like a pest for asking to take a picture with you.”
“Hey darlin’, don’t feel like that. I’m always pleased to take a picture with a beautiful girl like you.” Rory grinned, folded his arms, leaned on the counter, and whispered, “And I’m happy I got to pop your tattoo cherry today.”
She flushed and smiled. “Me too.”
“You take care now.”
“Thank you. Maybe I’ll see you next time you’re in town.”
“Maybe.”
When she’d gone out the door, he rounded the counter and approached the women. They looked up excitedly.
“Are you the guitarist for Convicted Chrome?”
He squatted down in front of them and nodded. “Yes, ma’am, in the flesh.”
“I know I don’t have an appointment,” a strawberry-blonde with ringlets said. “But I’d love it if you could do a small tattoo for me.”
“Why, I’d love to, darlin’, but I’m leaving for the day, and I won’t be back for a couple of months. I’ll be out on the road with my band.”
“Oh, darn. We should have come in earlier.”
A redhead in the group leaned forward. “It must
be so exciting touring with Charlotte Justice. I just love her.”
Rory had to agree with that. “She’s something special, all right. You know, we’ve got a show in Denver Saturday night. You ladies should come up for it.”
They exchanged looks. “That sounds awesome.”
The blonde batted her eyes at him and asked, “Any chance you can get us some back stage passes?”
Rory chuckled. “Honey, if it were up to me, no problem, but Charlotte Justice and her band are the only ones who can give those passes out.”
“Aww.”
Rory straightened. “How ‘bout we get a picture together before I leave?”
“That would be awesome!” the blonde squealed.
The girls jumped to their feet and gathered around him.
“Hey, Liam?” Rory called.
“Yeah?”
“Come take a picture of us.”
“I’m working.”
“Please,” one of the girls begged.
Liam slammed a drawer shut. A moment later he moseyed on over. “All right, sweetie. Since you asked so nicely.”
Rory tucked a girl on each side. “Cuddle in here, doll,” he told the third girl who giggled and squeezed in by his chest.
After Liam took a couple of pictures, he passed the cell phone back. “Here you go.”
“Ladies, I’ve really got to be going, but thanks for coming in today.” He hugged each one.
After they left, Liam rolled his eyes. “What a life you lead. Always got the women fawning all over you.”
Rory grinned. “I can’t help it if I got all of the good looks in the family.”
Liam huffed out a breath. “Right.”
Jameson walked up, his eyes hitting Rory. “You headed out soon?”
“Yep. My duffle bag is already strapped to the bike.”
“You’re riding?” Jameson brows shot up.
“Yeah, why?”
Max joined them; he was the second oldest of the group and probably the most serious of the O’Rourke brothers. “Storm’s comin’, little brother. You better scoot if you plan to beat it to Denver.”
Rory rolled his eyes at his brother’s warning. “I’ll be fine.”
Liam slapped Max’s arm. “Little brother doesn’t care about silly things like the weather, Max. He’s too busy keepin’ all the names in his little black book straight.”
“Ha ha. You’re such a riot.” Rory slugged Liam. It was true; he was the most carefree of the bunch. He was also the only one who was still single, and he liked it that way. He figured he was much too young and had way too many goals he wanted to accomplish before he’d ever be ready to settle down. Sometimes his three big brothers got on his nerves, like when they bossed him around or told him what to do. He supposed it came with being the baby of the family, but it got old.
“Where’s the band staying?” Jameson asked, folding his ink covered arms, the expensive watch on his wrist flashing. Jameson didn’t spend a lot of money on himself, but Ava had given it to him so he always wore it. Rory knew for a fact she’d paid almost three grand for the thing. Jameson had made quite a success in the industry, even managing to snag a reality TV show for several seasons. It had paid well, and the business had exploded.
Rory leaned a hip against the counter. “I’m supposed to meet up with the guys. The tour buses will be there. I guess that’s where we’ll end up Friday night.”
“You want to stay at the condo, feel free. Just don’t have any parties.”
Jameson had purchased a condo in one of the elite high-rises in Denver, one with expansive floor-to-ceiling windows and an amazing mountain view of the Front Range. He used it as a second home. Investment property, he called it, while his primary residence was still the family farm just outside town.
“Thanks, man.”
Jameson nodded, clasped hands with Rory, and pulled him in for a back slapping hug. “You be careful, okay?”
Rory chuckled. “Always the worrywart, aren’t you, brother?”
“Someone has to be.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“And no dope smoking inside,” Jamison threatened. “Ava gave me hell last time you stayed there.”
Rory chuckled. “Fine. Only on the balcony.”
“How about not at all?”
“You’re such a party pooper now that you’re married and have a kid. That’s why I don’t plan to do either. Not for a long, long time.”
Jameson snorted. “Funny how promises like that work out. I think I made that same one before I met Ava.”
Chapter Two
“Rayne, I’ve got it. Stop worrying.”
Rayne looked over at Charlie. He’d been her older brother’s best friend and like one of the family for as far back in her twenty-four years as she could remember. Standing in the business Daniel had started years ago out of Dad’s garage, and was now one of Denver’s best motorcycle shops, she couldn’t help but worry. This business meant everything to her. She’d worked side-by-side with Daniel and his buddies, helping to make it the success it had become.
Now Daniel was gone, Dad was busy running the restaurant, and she was left trying to hold Connor Moto Works together. It was hard to let go of the reins, even when she was about to leave for a trip she’d been planning for years, long before Daniel ever got sick. She had to admit, being the control freak she was, letting go, even for two weeks, felt impossible.
“I know you’ve got it, Charlie. It’s just—”
“Just what? Jason and Rick are going to handle all the repair work we’ve got booked up, and I’ll be working the retail side with Dex. Everything will be fine.”
“I know, but—”
“No buts, Rayne. You need this trip, honey. You know you do. And the girls will be here any minute. Are you gonna break their hearts and tell them you’re bailing on them, especially after missing last year’s trip?” Charlie squatted down and checked the pressure on the tires of her motorcycle.
Rayne jumped up to sit on the wooden workbench, swinging her feet and staring down at the red laces of her black boots. She’d taken them out of Daniel’s boots and put them in her own, wanting to take something of him with her besides his bike.
She’d teased him about the laces mercilessly years ago. He was famous for riding around town on his motorcycle, easily identifiable by them.
“Rayne, don’t be sad. You’ve mourned your brother long enough, and you did everything you could for him—more than anyone should have expected of you. Now it’s your time. You need it to recharge your soul. The guys need you fresh and re-energized.”
She nodded. “I know you’re right. It’s just hard.”
He finished with her bike and stood, his knees cracking, showing his thirty-plus years. He moved to her and dipped his head, setting his hands on the wood on either side of her hips. “I mean it. This is all you-time. Have some fun, and for two weeks don’t think about this place.”
She bumped foreheads with him. “Yes, sir.”
He chuckled and patted the top of the black knit hat she wore over her long hair—the one with the shop’s logo on a patch sewed on the front, the one her brother had worn. Her eyes began to fill at the thought.
“Hey, none of that.” He chucked her under the chin. “No sadness. He’d want you to be happy. He made me promise before he died to make sure you did this trip this year, and I don’t aim to let him down. Understood?”
“Understood.”
He tapped the end of her nose before stepping back.
Rayne took in the expression of love on his bearded face. She knew he cared about her and more than just as his friend’s little sister. But never once had he ever made any overt moves on her. Maybe it was out of respect for Daniel, maybe it was because of their eight-year age difference. Whatever it was that stopped him, Rayne was glad he hadn’t pursued anything; she loved Charlie like a brother, and although he was a great guy and good looking, she didn’t have romantic feelings for him.
The
sound of motorcycles rolling up the street drew her attention, and she lifted her eyes out the open garage door, toward the street.
Charlie twisted. “Looks like your rat pack is here.”
She watched as Jenna, Carmen, and Sasha all rolled up, hooting and hollering over their engines.
Rayne couldn’t help laughing. Her heart lightened just seeing them. They were her gal-pals, her cheer squad, her support system; they encouraged her when she was down and gave her strength when she felt she couldn’t go on.
Charlie was right; she needed this road trip, and right then she swore she would try to live in the moment and enjoy every minute.
Chapter Three
Rory had been on the road almost three hours when the first drops of rain pelted him. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing only darkening skies closing in quickly. A green road sign indicated an exit coming up, so he got in the right lane and slowed as he approached the ramp off I70.
He spotted a gas station, a motel, and a few businesses off to the left so he crossed the overpass, and studied the sky to the west. It didn’t look like it was going to let up anytime soon, and he knew he’d never outrun it. Damn it. He hated when Max was right.
“Fucking hell.”
He blew out a frustrated breath and rolled into the parking lot of the small motel and stopped under the covered entry. He climbed from his bike, pulling his helmet off and unsnapping his jacket. He walked inside and approached the reservations desk.
“Welcome to the Birchwood Motel, sir.” The young clerk greeted him with a big smile. “The rain bring you in?”
Rory nodded, running a hand over his wet face. “You got a room?”
“Yes, sir.”
When Rory had paid and gotten the keycard, he asked, “Anywhere I can park my bike out of the rain?”
“Yes, sir. Your room is down on the left. There’s a breezeway at the end where the ice machine and laundry room are located. You can park your bike in the breezeway if there’s room. There are already a few bikes down there. Had a group come in about half an hour ago.”
“Any place to get food around here?”
“Ranaldi’s Pizza will deliver to your room. Otherwise the Ice House Brewery next door is pretty good.”
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