by Cassie Leigh
Gigi turned sideways in the shop’s full-length mirror. They kept it in the back outside Roman’s office for the clients to better view their magnificent body art and it offered her a little privacy to finish her preening. She assessed the black beaded dress that she’d chosen because it reminded her of the fancy flapper dresses from the roaring twenties, then leaned in to slick on her Moxie Mauve lip shimmer.
She’d pulled out all the bells and whistles for tonight. If she was doing this monogamous relationship thing, she was doing it right—including new lingerie. She couldn’t explain it, but it mattered that this first time at least, he would be the only man to ever see her in this set. In fact, she was strongly considering burning everything she had and replacing it.
“Wow. Is all that for me?” The deep timber of his voice was reverent as he slipped up behind her and laid a chaste kiss on the curve of her throat where her pulse fluttered. “You look stunning, but where is your pink, beautiful?”
His hands skimmed down her sides until they came to rest on her hips. She covered his roving hands with hers and smiled. “That’s a secret for you to find later.”
“Damn, Gigi.”
She barely had the chance to enjoy the hard evidence of his appreciation pressed into her ass before he was spinning her around. Their lips collided in a savage kiss that stole her breath and, for a moment, the strength in her knees as he walked her back until the press of cold glass met the exposed skin visible from the low back of her dress. One hand slid from her ass to her knee, drawing it up. His other hand buried in her curls. She’d worn them down and messy just for this reason. She loved the feeling of him possessing her like this, hot and brutal. She didn’t even mind that she was gonna have to reapply that lipstick. This kiss was worth the extra effort.
“I don’t know if I’m going to last until later. You’re making me want to take you in the office and lock the door.” The growl of his voice whispered into her ear sent a sensual shiver down her spine that made her want to rub her thighs together to relieve her sudden surge of need.
He pressed kisses along her neck that made her burn with weakness, but he’d denied her for days and it was time he had a taste of his own medicine. “Down, boy. You can wait, just like I did.” Her voice was shaky, but she was proud of herself anyway.
His chuckle turned into a groan as she pushed him back gently with one hand braced against his chest. And damn—he looked nerd hot now that she was getting a better look at him. He’d slicked back his hair with pomade and worn a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up his thickly corded forearms, keeping his colorful ink on full display. At his throat, he’d opted for a navy and teal bow tie which she thought suited his vintage style right along with the suspenders that attached to his cuffed dark wash jeans. She almost laughed when she got to his boots with the lumberjack red laces.
The look was quirky and badass, but most of all, it was just him. She adored that he wasn’t like other men. He marched just outside the beaten path and owned it with confidence that was sexier than any Armani suit he could have owned. As a couple, they probably looked odd together, as if they didn’t fit. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t care. For once, her carefully crafted image didn’t factor in her decisions or her confidence.
Roman twined his fingers with hers. “Come on. I have something for you to try.”
He pulled her out into the shop and into the gallery without allowing her to fix her swollen lips. She grinned despite herself as he wove through the people starting to mill through the space. She blushed when she spotted the chaise where he’d brought her off just a few days before. He’d moved it in the center of the space so that it stood directly across from the painting she’d fallen in love with on that first gallery walk through, the painting with the man screaming on his knees. She’d since confirmed that Roman did paint that heartrending image. He continued back to their corner, right where she suggested they place the bar.
“Hey, Billy,” Roman greeted the bartender and sometimes client. “Thanks for working this on such short notice. Was your supplier put out?”
Gigi smiled warmly at the older man. “You own the Red Barron? That explains so much.”
“Not a problem at all. Besides when I heard you boys were doin’ this and your honey of a manager was setting it up, I knew I couldn’t let anybody else take care of ya. Another joint would have robbed you blind.” He slapped a heavy hand on the bar top they’d brought in for the event and his deep belly laugh rumbled through the gathering crowd. “Roman’s cooking up something special for you, girly.”
The upturned curve of Roman’s lips that he attempted to hide forced Gigi to suppress a smile of her own. If she didn’t know better, she would have said he looked embarrassed about whatever he’d done. That only grew her anticipation.
Roman slipped behind the bar as Billy wandered off to talk to one of the servers they’d hired. He pulled out a silver bowl of sugar cubes, a crystal glass that he balanced a silver slotted spoon over and a fancy glass decanter filled with what looked like an herb green liquid. While she watched, he poured a shot of the green spirit into the glass, then placed a cube from the dish on the spoon and poured seltzer water slowly over the top, dissolving the sugar. The resulting mix clouded into a milky opalescence.
“La fee verte, the green fairy. The first time I saw your eyes they reminded me of absinthe. I thought maybe you should try it.” Roman’s crooked smile was proud as he handed her the beverage.
She raised the glass to her nose, and allowed the herbal bloom of the drink to wash over her senses. “I’ve heard of this. Isn’t it illegal?”
Just the idea made her think of moonshine and speakeasies. An oddly romantic gesture that suited their unique courtship.
Roman shook his head. “Not any more in this country. Once upon a time it was banned all over Europe but France had the biggest hard on about it.” He pointed at the crystal glass in her hand and started tucking away all the items he’d used behind the bar. “Try it, but be careful. That stuff’s hundred proof. We won’t be sharing that with our guests. It’s a treat just for you.”
The thought he must have put into this made her heart flutter as she raised the glass to her lips. The sweetness teased her tongue first and then it reminded her of licorice and herbal tea. It was a strange pairing, just as they were. She was instantly enamored with the cocktail. She moaned as she sipped her drink.
“Roman, I adore it. You should have some.”
His smile brightened as he came around to stand beside her. “I’m glad you like it, but I’m gonna wait for now.” He leaned into her side and whispered in her ear. “If I drink tonight, I might lose the control that’s keeping me from throwing you over my shoulder and leaving right now.”
Heat crept up her neck at his lust-filled words. God, she wanted this man. Loved the way he made love to her mind before he even touched her, engaging every part of her being. She had a feeling she would be addicted the second he filled her up with all of himself.
“Promises, promises,” she muttered around a syrupy sweet smile.
He growled low, sending vibrations of air across her heated skin. “Don’t tempt me.” Then louder he announced, “Let’s mingle.”
Roman placed a hand at the small of her back. Shaking hands and greeting guests as they worked the room pressing flesh and encouraging sales. Gigi had worked out a smooth plan. Declan and one of the other artists waited at the reception counter, cashing out buyers and arranging for later pickup or delivery of the art, then someone tagged the piece sold, but it remained on the wall for guests to view. Some of the paintings had the option of limited edition prints for sale as well, something for everyone’s budget. If all went well, the boys stood to rake in thousands in one evening, making the open bar a drop in the bucket.
Gigi happily sipped at her divine drink as she smiled and absorbed Roman’s warmth.
Until Ann raced towards her with a panicked look on her face. “Ten o’clock. Dad
dy dearest is here and that arm candy doesn’t look like your mother.”
“Oh my god—he can’t see me here.” Gigi’s answering whisper came out shrill. She caught sight of him and his surgically enhanced date. “That hussy is younger than me. What am I supposed to do?”
Ann’s gaze locked onto Roman’s hand at Gigi’s waist. She frowned but said nothing. Ann took a deep breath and with her pragmatic efficiency launched into an on the fly plan. “Keep working Roman around the room and keep one eye on the cradle-robbing-bastard. Stay on the opposite side from him at all times. If you and Roman get separated you can stay hidden in the crowd behind your dad somewhere.”
Ann started to move away but Gigi gripped her wrist to stop her. “Thank you.”
“We’ll discuss this later.” Ann’s curt nod toward Roman conveyed her meaning.
Gigi should have known better. She had been aware Ann wouldn’t miss this but she’d allowed Roman to cloud her thoughts and paw all over her anyway. Now her father was here. This was going to be a disaster. She slammed what was left of her fragrant cocktail, allowing the warm buzz to ease through her. She was going to need another drink.
Tugging on Roman’s hand, she waited for his attention then lifted her empty glass and shook it before gesturing with her head towards the bar. He let go of her hand and smiled before resuming his conversation.
She’d made it ten steps away from him, maybe fewer, when a hand on her gripped her ass that didn’t feel like Roman’s. She spun around and nearly toppled off her heels. As if this evening couldn’t have been ruined any further, Chad leered down at her with his arm around some tarted up Tinder reject. He didn’t stop and talk to Gigi—thank god for small mercies—just kept moving with his eyes locked on her. Like he was trying to rub his date in her face and make her jealous. Well, he was about to be disappointed because she shook her head and turned back to the bar and Billy with his magical green fairy drink.
Setting the glass on the bar, she batted her eyelashes at the jovial barkeep. “Think you could make me another of that divine concoction that Roman gave me? Pretty please.”
Billy chuckled and started mixing her drink. “How can I tell you no when you ask me so sweetly? But you mind Roman’s warning. These pack a punch, girly.”
He slid the glass towards her and she picked it up, raising it in a salute. “I’m counting on it.”
Turning back with her liquid prize in hand she kept to the edge of the room, carefully working back to Roman. She made it within ten feet before she stopped, frozen. Her father stood pointing to the painting she loved, sale tag in hand as he discussed it with his date and Gigi’s boyfriend. Of all the places her father could have brought his little whore, why did it have to be this place? The only place with the one man that was starting to feel like home, and they’re tainting it with their sin. Gigi slammed back her drink and immediately snatched a full glass of rosé off a server with a passing tray.
Her head swam with emotion as she knocked that glass back too. This night couldn’t be any more ruined. Not with Chad circling her like a vengeful shark, her father lurking and oozing debauchery all over her happy place, and Ann promising retribution without saying a threatening word. She knew in the beginning she was going to burn in hell. Turns out she was doing it in an expensive dress.
..................
The Ink Spinners Gallery opening event had been a resounding success, and Roman knew exactly how he wanted to thank Gigi—just as soon as he found her.
She’d disappeared when she went for her second drink. Workaholic that she tended to be, he imagined she’d run off to make sure things continued to run the perfect course she’d set in motion. What he imagined versus what she’d achieved by simply leveraging the social media that he’d been ignoring, staggered him. Now he was ready to make good on the promise and find that pink she’d hidden just for him.
Roman leaned against the bar as Billy packed away the rented glasses and unopened bottles of liquor. “Hey, have you seen Gigi? I lost track of her when she came back for her refill.”
“No, man. I think she stuck to the rosé after her second drink, so I didn’t really see much of her after that, not with the girls circling with drinks.”
“I know where she is.” Ann leaned against the bar beside him. His sister looked like a pillar of gold with her champagne cocktail dress and blonde hair pulled back neatly. She’d dressed to catch Declan’s eye. She’d never admit it, but she didn’t have to be here otherwise.
Roman turned to give his sister his undivided attention. There was something going on or she would have just told him where to find her.
“So that painting of the man on his knees?” She pointed to the one in front of the chaise.
Roman smiled. “Shame it sold. Gigi loves that one. I probably would have given it to her.”
“You sold it to her father tonight.”
Roman’s face scrunched up as he thought through all the people he’d spoken with. “That older guy with the plastic-looking girlfriend?”
“That’s the one.” Ann’s tone was clipped and devoid of any humor.
“Why didn’t Gigi introduce me? Is she embarrassed of her stepmother? She shouldn’t be. I mean if anyone knows about shitty stepfamilies, it’s us.” He punched Ann in the arm playfully but when she didn’t laugh, that’s when he started to worry.
“That’s the problem. Gigi’s parents aren’t divorced.”
“Oh shit.” Roman leaned into the bar, rubbing his closed eyelids. “Where did she hide?”
“Your office and she’s pretty inebriated right now. I can take her home.”
Damn it—this night was supposed to be a celebration. He wanted it to be special for her. It had started out so well. “No. It should be me. I’ve got her from here.”
“Do you? She’s an emotional handful when she’s been drinking, thanks to that hornet’s nest she calls a family. If you break her heart…”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” He took a step back, palms out. “You know what, never mind. I know where she lives. I’ll get her home safe. That’s all you need to know.”
Roman walked away, shaking his head. He must have misheard his sister because he couldn’t believe that she actually doubted him, even for a moment. Gigi was hurting and no way would he ever take advantage of that vulnerability or allow anyone else to. Ann had no idea how precious this woman made herself to him already.
Gigi was right where Ann said he’d find her—curled up in his desk chair, cradling a bottle of wine in her lap. Her high heels lay scattered on the floor and her feet tucked under her. For a moment, he thought she had fallen asleep, but then she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a long pull.
“Oh, beautiful—that bad?” He pulled the bottle from her hands and sat it on the desk. “Let’s get you home and tucked into bed.”
She looked up at him with glassy eyes. “Figures. I finally get you to come home with me and I mess it up by getting drunk. You should find a different girl, Roman. A better one.”
“Sorry, you’re not getting rid of me that easy.” He scooped up her shoes in one hand before guiding her arm around his neck. “Come on, stand up for me, babe.”
Gigi groaned as she peeled herself out of the chair to stand on wobbly legs. She reached for the wine bottle he’d taken but he guided her just out of range. She did at least manage to grab her handbag as they weaved out the door and through the shop.
“Goodnight, guys,” Roman called as he led her to the front door.
Isaac Hart, one of the newer artists who stayed to help cash people out, waved as they passed. Declan kept counting money and didn’t bother to look up. Typical. They made it to Gigi’s car without incident. He buckled her in on the passenger side of her Fiat and fished her keys from her purse. He’d have to leave his motorcycle here overnight because there was no way he was going to let her drive home like this so he could get it back to her place.
Gigi was quiet on the short drive. She stared
blankly out the window at nothing or everything; he wasn’t sure which because her face was completely vacant of the women he felt so much for.
This was the second time Roman seen Gigi hit the alcohol hard. Of course, she stopped early with the tequila. This time he had no idea how much wine she’d had. If she had asked to leave, he’d have taken her home, but then he also knew why she hadn’t. She’d gone to so much trouble for that event. The last thing she would have wanted was to drag him into her nightmare. How often did Gigi suffer in silence to make others happy? He was also sure he wouldn’t like the answer if he put the question to her.
He pulled into the closest space to her door that he could find. As soon as he shut the car off, she popped her seat belt and the door, leaning out with her head between her knees.
“Hang on, Gigi. I’m coming around to get you.” He exited her little car and ran around to her side.
Gigi rolled her eyes to look up at him, her head still hanging. “I think I had too much. I’m so sorry.” She sniffled and tears slipped down her cheeks. “I ruined everything.”
Roman knelt beside her and tilted her face up to look him in the eyes. The pain radiating from her face broke his heart. “Beautiful, you didn’t ruin a damn thing. Just let me take care of you and I promise tomorrow we’ll get right back on track.”
Gigi nodded slowly.
“Good, now tell me your apartment number and I’ll get you up there.”
She groaned and tried to stand, but he pushed her back down into the seat. “I’m on the second floor, 2B.”
He lifted her arm and put it around his shoulder before threading his own arms behind her back and under her knees. He lifted her easily and, without prompting, she tightened her grip on his shoulders. Carefully, he pushed her car door closed and then crossed the parking lot to the exterior door of her building; with a little team work he got her in the building and up the stairs.