Something Right (Exile Ink Book 2)

by Skylar Hill

  He was just about to turn around when two hands slipped over his eyes and the smell of lemons flooded his senses.

  “Guess who!” a female voice chirped behind him.

  “Tasha?” he asked, blinking against the woman’s fingers.

  “James! Hi!”

  He whirled around, a petite woman with jet black hair streaked with aqua beaming at him. His face split into a grin. “Tasha, it’s so good to see you!” he said, wrapping her in a hug.

  “It’s been two years,” she said, laughing and clapping him on the back before pulling back. “When I got your call about this place…” she looked around, her silver nose ring glinting in the floodlights they had set up for the workers. “This is an amazing space. The light! The brick! It’s a dream!”

  “That’s what I said when I first saw it!”

  James turned to see Cam in the entrance to the factory floor, smiling at him and Natasha.

  “Is this Cam?” Tasha asked, her voice a little uncertain but excited.

  “Natasha! Hi!”

  “Come over here and give me a hug,” Tasha held her arms out excitedly and Cam smiled, hugging her. When James had invited Tasha to come work at Exile Ink, Cam and Tasha had started emailing back and forth design ideas, becoming thick as thieves. It was nice, and boded well for the entire team James was assembling. He wanted all his artists to get along, for it to feel like a family.

  “I’m so excited to finally meet you face to face,” Cam said. “How was your flight?”

  “All good,” Tasha said. “I spent last night getting settled into my new place—you’ve gotta come over and help me decorate—and now I am all yours. Put me to work!”

  James grinned. Tasha was a go-getter. An incredibly talented piercer and tattoo artist, she specialized in classic vintage styles. Her pinup girl pieces were famous for not just implementing the authentic feel that so many were drawn to, but for her exquisite line and color work.

  “So what’s with the lake in the entrance?” Tasha asked.

  “Burst pipe,” Cam said.

  “Aiden got the water turned off,” James said, nodding at his brother who’d just come back inside, his phone still in his hand.

  “McGowan! Get over here!” Tasha bellowed when she saw him. Aiden’s eyes widened when he saw her, looking a little shocked, but then he smiled, one of those quick smiles of his.

  “Natasha, it’s nice to see you,” he said, giving her a hug. “The shop-vacs are here,” he told James.

  “So polite,” Tash teased as Cam came over to James and gave him a quick kiss. “Hey, James, where’s Lydia?” She looked expectantly over Aiden’s shoulder.

  “Working,” Aiden said, before James could. James arched an eyebrow at him and Aiden rolled his eyes, turning back to his phone.

  “But she’s planning our opening night,” Cam said. “I can’t wait to show you some of her ideas. We should do dinner later.”

  “Sounds great,” Tash said. “Now give me a stack of those towels.” She grabbed a few from the pile in James’ hands. “Let’s go get this gorgeous place cleaned up.”

  James smiled fondly as she breezed out of the room like the tornado she was.

  “She’s wonderful,” Cam gushed next to him.

  “I knew you two would get along,” James said. “Add in Lydia, and I think I should be worried you three might combine your talents and take over the earth.”

  Cam winked, sashaying in front of him, her pear-shaped ass a terrible temptation in that houndstooth sweater skirt. “Now that’s a world order I can get behind.” She yelped in delighted laughter as he reached out and swatted her butt and then squeezed. She stuck her tongue out at him over her shoulder and he leaned forward, nuzzling her cheek.

  “You can boss me around any time,” he whispered against her skin, relishing the way she shivered against him at his words.

  “We should go help,” she said, but even as she spoke, her head leaned against his shoulder, exposing the graceful length of her neck. His lips traveled down that lovely line of skin, his hands anchoring at her hips as he pressed his into hers. He could feel himself getting hard as she let out a breathy noise as he hit that sensitive little spot on her neck that drove her wild when he bit down there.

  He’d spent the last few months learning every inch of Cam’s body. Memorizing the little sounds she made. What she liked, what she wanted, what she needed. She was exploration and beauty, knowledge and strength, learning and open-mouthed wonder. No matter how many times they fell into bed, no matter how many times they fell into each other, he could never get enough of her. She captivated him in all ways: mind, body, and soul.

  And it wasn’t just sex—though, God, the sex was fucking amazing—it was everything else, too. Her sly sense of humor that came out only when she was comfortable with someone. Her dedication to her little sister, Evie. Her creative mind and her talent. She was a one-of-a-kind artist. He considered it one of the great honors of his life that he had one of her pieces inked right over his heart. Sometimes in the morning as he got ready, he’d catch himself just staring in the mirror at the redwoods tattooed on his chest. The splashes of greens, reds and browns took his breath away every time.

  His family and friends had always joked he wore his heart on his sleeve. And now, because of her, he was wearing it right there—on his chest.

  “Okay, mister,” she said, pulling away with a reluctant little sigh that made him want to yank her close again. She kicked off her heels, setting them to the side where they wouldn’t get wet. “I’ve got to get changed out of these clothes and help clean up.”

  “But I like getting dirty,” he said with a wicked grin.

  She kissed him, a light peck, her hand lingering on his chest, over his heart. “You are so corny,” she laughed. “Come on. We can’t let everyone else do all the work.”

  He followed her, his hand splayed across her lower back, unwilling to part from her completely, and she leaned into him, like it was where she belonged.

  Chapter Three

  Cam

  After cleaning up the mess the burst pipe had caused, Cam was thankful she’d taken to keeping a pair of paint-spattered jeans and one of her soft, slouchy t-shirts that had been sprinkled with plenty of drywall dust in the past few weeks. She changed into them before wading into the water with the shop-vac.

  “I’ve got to get back to the office,” Aiden said, looking down at his phone as it buzzed for the tenth time in as many minutes.

  “Say hi to Evie for me,” Cam called over her shoulder as she wrangled the empty shop-vac into a corner. Her little sister had taken an internship at the McGowan family company. Green Valley Industries focused on renewable energy, among other things. Evie, with her scientific mind and passion for the environment, had been ecstatic to be working with Aiden, who she and her fellow geeks viewed as a scientific rock star.

  “Don’t forget, drinks and dinner at the Brewery tonight,” James said as Aiden headed out. His brother waved to show that he’d heard, and disappeared into the misty morning.

  “How’s he doing?” Tasha asked James.

  “He’s all pissed because the new wind turbines he spent six months designing are a dud,” James explained, shaking his head. “It was the first project he took on since Dad…” he trailed off, sighing. Cam reached out, pressing a hand between his shoulder blades, and Tasha shot them both a sympathetic look.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come up for the funeral last year,” she said.

  “The flowers you sent my mother were wonderful,” James said. “She talked about them for days.”

  “I remembered how much she loved violets,” Tasha said. “Cam, have you met Lena yet? Please tell me James hasn’t been hiding you away.”

  “More like shouting it from the rooftops,” James said, making Tasha giggle and Cam blush.

  “We’ve had two dinners with Lena,” Cam said. “She’s amazing. She’s trying to get me to join her cookbook club.”

  “W
hat’s a cookbook club?” Tasha asked.

  “An excuse for mom and her friends to get together and drink wine,” James said, laughing when Cam squeezed his side teasingly.

  “They choose a cookbook each month and everyone makes a recipe from it and brings it to a potluck,” Cam explained. “I might take her up on the invitation. I think this month they chose a Madhur Jaffrey book.”

  “Ooh, if you do, I want to come,” Tasha said. “I love Indian food. And I’d love to see Lena.”

  “It’s a plan,” Cam said, feeling a burst of happiness. She had a small group of friends, and Lydia was an absolute rock for her—always had been. But when she first moved to Portland, she’d been so focused on getting Evie through high school that creating a larger community, a family of sorts, had been low on her priorities. And once Evie got to college, it just seemed so hard to make friends as an adult. Add in the fact that Cam worked all the time, and it just kept not happening. Those bonds of female friendships that could be so vital to a woman’s sense of community had never manifested. She’d longed for a group of girlfriends to have nights in—and out—with; women she could share with. When she and Tasha had started emailing, she felt in the exchange the possibility of a true friend, and now that she was here, she could tell they were going to get along really well.

  Once again, James was bringing joy into her life, though this time, rather inadvertently, since Tasha’s talent was the true draw. Tasha’s tattooing work was famous—bold, cheeky and sexy—Cam admired her for the raw sensuality of her work. She couldn’t wait to just sit down and talk, artist to artist. Working in this boys-club business could be tough, and she was excited to have another woman on board. A majority of her own clients were women, and she wanted Exile Ink to be as woman-friendly as possible. Letting someone tattoo you—especially in certain places—could be a very vulnerable experience, and she knew James wanted all their clients to feel as safe and respected as possible.

  The three of them spent the rest of the afternoon mudding the cracks in the recently installed drywall to prepare for the reclaimed barn wood that would line the walls, giving the lobby a rustic, warm feel. After a few hours of messy work, Cam and Tasha finally put down their spatulas and surveyed their handiwork. James gathered the tools and took them to the sink to rinse.

  “I’m going to run home and change. I’ll meet you at the restaurant,” Tasha said, after taking a look at her plaster-covered shirt.

  “I’ll text you the address,” Cam said.

  “Perfect! See you two in a bit.”

  “Isn’t she great?” James asked after Tasha had left and the two of them headed upstairs, where the textile factory’s offices had been—and where the private tattoo rooms of Exile Ink would be. Each room looked out on the factory floor, the wall made up of 1940s glass blocks that obscured the view inside the office. The light poured in through the glass block, illuminating the whole building and creating a dreamy, golden atmosphere that made a person just want to relax.

  “She’s amazing,” Cam said, plucking her skirt from the hanger she’d hooked on a nail. “I still can’t believe you got her to leave LA. She’s the darling of the Southern California scene.”

  “Between you and me?” James asked, and Cam nodded, loving that he trusted her like this. “I think she needed a change. I was always kind of surprised she didn’t leave L.A. after Marcus died.”

  “That was her husband’s name?” Cam asked. She knew Tasha was a widow—and she’d lost her husband very young—but she hadn’t wanted to press further. She’d lost a parent, so she understood on some level, but losing your husband, especially at the start of your life together? Her respect for Tasha grew at the thought of what strength she must have to get through that.

  James nodded. “It’s been a long time now, though. Maybe this will be her fresh start.”

  “I noticed she still was wearing her wedding band,” Cam said.

  “Yeah, me too,” James said. “It’s been eight years, but Tasha and Marcus… they were the kind of couple that made you believe in love, you know? They were free and wild, but they fit. It made sense, the two of them. They found each other when they were so young, they were supposed to have—God, they could’ve had sixty, maybe even seventy years together…”

  A troubled look passed over his handsome face, his storm-cloud eyes darkening with grief as he rubbed a hand through his hair, like he was trying to dispel the memories. “Fuck cancer,” he said finally, his voice a little hoarse.

  Cam’s heart squeezed, and she crossed the room in a few steps, putting her arms around him, her head lying against his chest. “Fuck cancer, indeed,” she said, breathing in his scent, like crisp pine trees in the snow. “I’m sorry you and Tasha lost Marcus,” she said. “I’m sure he was a wonderful man.”

  “He was,” James said. “God, I’m sorry,” he said, letting out a embarrassed laugh that just made her hold him closer. “I didn’t realize seeing her would bring up all these memories about him.”

  “It’s okay,” Cam said, stroking his back. “It’s understandable. We’re all making big changes for this place.” She pulled back a little, so she could meet his eyes, her arms still around him. “We’re in this together,” she said. “We’ll build something amazing. Me, you, Tasha. ”

  “And Grant,” James added.

  “And the mysterious Grant,” Cam agreed. She hadn’t met Exile Ink’s final artist yet. Another old friend of James’, Grant was arriving in a few weeks from Ireland. Whenever James mentioned him, Aiden would laugh and start in on wild drinking stories featuring the three of them. She got the sense Grant was the life of any group he was in. “It will be great, the four of us. Like a really excellent quartet.”

  He bent, rubbing his nose against hers playfully. “I’m more into duets.”

  She laughed. His teasing sense of humor, the fact that he was a little sappy with her, made her glow inside. She’d never thought of a relationship as fun before. The adult relationships she’d grown up around had been… well, terrifying, if she was going to be honest. And the few men she’d dated in the past… things had never relaxed enough for fun. She’d always been on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  She was trying so hard not to be like that with James, who had coaxed her out of her protective shell and into the safety of his arms. She wanted to relax into his strength, into his giving and bright spirit, in the way he made things better just by being next to her. But she kept holding a part of herself back, unable to fully fall, to fully trust he’d catch her, even though he’d given her every reason to believe he would.

  It made her heart beat too fast with worry sometimes. Her fears were real and they were valid with her history, but they were holding her back. Holding them back. It wasn’t fair to either of them.

  She needed to do something about it. But she just wasn’t brave enough. Yet.

  She had to get there, though. Soon.

  “We’ll have to make sure Natasha loves it here,” Cam said. “Lydia and I will take her all around the city. A spa day, maybe? After a few weeks of construction grime in our pores, a facial and a massage would be like heaven.”

  James smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I just love how you like to make people feel at home.”

  She flushed, her stomach jumping a little at how easy the word “love” tripped off his lips. They’d been dating for almost four months now, and they hadn’t said those three little words yet. There had been moments where she’d been sure they’d be the next words out of his mouth, moments where her stomach had clenched and her heart had soared, breathless and waiting and maybe a little scared. And there had been times when it’d been so hard to hold those words in herself, when she looked at him and all she could see was the future she so desperately wanted, but was scared to reach for.

  She wasn’t a fearless person. And she wasn’t bold, like Lydia or Tasha. It wasn’t that she didn’t like herself. But sh
e knew there were times she was her own worst enemy. She second-guessed herself. She was cautious. Timid, even, sometimes. She wanted to be able to stride forward into the great, beautiful unknown, head held high, eyes straight ahead. But she was the type of woman to make pro-con lists and worry every detail to death before she took a single step. Maybe it was because for as long as she could remember, her life was about protecting Evie first, her mother second, and herself last. Was a person able to be fearless when they had loved ones relying on them? How could she be bold when speaking her mind once warranted painful punishment?

  Was her past imprinted on her, mind, body and soul, never to be erased or forgotten? Had it shaped her that much?

  She knew the answer was yes. But she knew it had made her strong too.

  “Let me change, and then we’ll go,” she said, her hand at the buttons of her jeans. His hands—so much bigger, so much rougher—covered hers, and she shivered, looking up at him. “James,” she said warningly, knowing that look in his eyes, her panties getting wet just at the thought of him stripping off the well-worn denim and getting on his knees to taste her. “We have to meet everyone for dinner.”

  He grinned, unbuttoning her jeans, his hand slipping inside.

  Cam’s eyes fluttered shut.

  “We can be a little late,” he said huskily. “We’ll blame it on traffic.”

  Chapter Four

  James

  He could never get enough of her—the way she smelled, how she tasted, the little noises she made. Cam was most definitely a screamer, even though she’d turn bright pink if he ever mentioned it. James pulled her jeans down and then trailed his fingers up her thighs to hook into the waist of her lace panties. God, her lingerie drove him crazy, all lace and satin and soft pastels, gleaming against her pale skin like a invitation just for him.