Shit.
That was even more dangerous.
“In the chair,” she replied, her voice still a little throaty. “I’ve adjusted it so you can sit with your chest against the rest and your back exposed to me.”
The space was small, so he either had to maneuver around her to get to the chair that sat in the middle of the room or wait for her to step back.
Luckily, she moved away and busied herself at a counter where her supplies were kept, so he was able to move to the chair without brushing her sweet body. The counter ran along the entire length of the left wall. Above it sat several shelves with containers and more supplies, and on the wall near the door were two more shelves. The top one held folded Melancholy Ink T-shirts, labeled ‘For Sale’, stacked right on the shelf, and the lower one had baskets filled with more shop promo, labeled ‘Free’, for clients to take on their way out.
“I know you didn’t want the numbing agent the last time, but I need to use it today because I’ll be inking some painful areas,” she said. “And I have to apply it as soon as possible because it needs a good thirty minutes to take effect.”
“No.”
That was the last thing he needed. He was already too numb. He twisted in the chair to stare at her, not at all surprised to find her frowning.
“Are you sure, Hunter?” she asked, his name on her lips sounding better than it should. “I’ll be working a large section for a long time today. It’s going to hurt.”
“That’s okay.”
A dawning entered her eyes, and he wasn’t sure he liked what she was thinking.
“I’m not into pain,” he said, and knew immediately that was what she’d assumed by the pink tinging her cheeks again. “I just don’t want to be numb.”
She exhaled. “All right, but there have been plenty who’ve refused and were sorry later, which caused us to end the session early.”
“I won’t end it,” he reassured. “I can take it. I was trained to.”
Hell, he’d barely felt her inking his arm the last time.
That seemed to get through to her because she nodded, but this time concern clouded her eyes. “I don’t like the thought of you or any of your buddies needing to use that training.”
Her concern cracked his chest open a little and warmth seeped in.
“It’s what we signed up for,” he said, and turned back around because looking into her eyes was way too dangerous.
She made him feel too much. He wasn’t ready for that onslaught.
For the next hour and a half, he stared at photos on her wall, grateful for the quiet. Neither of them spoke, but it wasn’t a strained silence. More of a companionable, agreeable one. The pain of the needle was nowhere the torture he’d endured over the years. Still, she was right. In some areas, it did hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, Hunter,” she said, her breath warm on his back as she continued to work. “Why did you choose a tiger?”
Her question was almost as surprising as hearing her voice break the silence, and probably the reason he answered more honestly than intended.
“It’s what my grandfather used to call me.”
Damn. Why the hell did he tell her that?
“Ah, that’s cute.”
Cute?
He nearly snickered. “That wasn’t how he’d meant it. He got custody of me when I was fourteen, and I was an ass. I used to sneak up on him and pounce then laugh when I startled him.”
His grandfather had told him he was worse than a damn tiger and had called him that ever since.
She stopped inking and chuckled. “Somehow, I can picture that.”
Hunter turned sideways to face her, and his pulse quickened at the way amusement warmed her eyes. “Should I be insulted?”
“Not at all.” Her gaze met his and her amusement slowly faded into a haze of heat.
Shit.
If he didn’t do something to change that, he wasn’t going to be able to endure the feel of her hands on his body—even through the thin gloves she wore—without doing something they’d probably both regret.
“Why do you have an angel tattooed on your neck and shoulder?” Well, that was not the question he’d meant to ask.
What the hell was wrong with him?
But now that he had asked, he was curious to know the answer.
She touched her neck and her gaze softened. His body immediately responded by sending a flood of warmth through his chest.
“For my mom after she passed away,” Christa replied. “She always watched out for me, so it seemed fitting. I like to think she’s the angel on my shoulder, you know?”
He nodded, not sure how to respond since his mother’s passing hadn’t affected him in the same way. It’d hurt, but he doubted he’d been on her mind in her final moments. She’d always put herself first.
Christa’s hands returned to his back, so Hunter straightened in the chair to face the wall in front of him, happy to have the spell broken.
“What was your grandfather’s name?” she asked while she worked.
“Gordon,” he replied. “Why?”
“If you want, I can ink his name in this layer of the tattoo,” she said. “Then the next time you come in, that layer will sort of camouflage it so only you know it’s there and where to look.”
“Genius.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. I just thought you might to pay tribute like I did to my mom. Mel inked the tattoo last year and I had her hide my mom’s name in the feathers of the left wing. See?”
Once again, her hands lifted off his skin and he turned to find her head cocked and neck at an angle, and he had to fight the sudden urge to lean in and lick and nip and kiss her tempting, exposed flesh.
Forcing his gaze to focus where she’d directed on the tattoo, he quickly spotted the name. “Maria.”
If she hadn’t told him, though, it would’ve taken him a lot longer to find it.
She nodded and drew back. “So, if you’d like, I can add Gordon to your bottom layer.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I’d like that. I’d also like you to add your name.”
Her eyes rounded. “Mine?”
He nodded.
“But why?”
His lips twitched. “Because an artist should always sign her work.”
Thankfully, that seemed to appease and please her, if the blush sweeping into her cheeks was anything to go by.
Otherwise, he feared he might spill the full truth under her mesmerizing gaze. She’d already gotten him to say things today he’d never meant to speak out loud.
The last thing he wanted was to reveal everything his tattoo symbolized.
It represented peeling back the layers to find the person he was when his grandfather had respected him. There had only been one choice to represent that version. A tiger. That was the person his grandfather had respected. The person Hunter hoped was still inside him. The person he hoped Christa could help him uncover. So, having both his grandfather’s name and hers as part of that tattoo meant almost as much to him as the tattoo itself.
Of course, confessing all that to her would no doubt have her running out the door, claiming he was touched in the head.
That analogy wasn’t far off, because he had to be crazy to think he would seriously last a few more sessions under this woman’s touch without acting on the attraction that was simmering under the surface.
And not just his surface.
Hers.
He could feel it in the way her hands trembled before she’d pull them off him. See it in her eyes when she stared into his. Hear it in the wobble of her voice, as if she was a bit overwhelmed by the wild, unstable chemistry charging the air around them.
Hunter wanted to rediscover the tiger but if he wasn’t careful…there may be some pouncing involved, which was definitely unwise.
***
Friday evening, Christa sat at a table at the local honky tonk, wondering how she’d let Me
l, Stef, and Rylee talk her into joining them for a burger. Not that she didn’t enjoy the Pub’s food, because it was amazing. But it was also too crowded on Fridays.
The Texas Republic was a honky tonk that pulled in large crowds on the weekends. People came from all over the county and even the surrounding ones to enjoy the food and live bands.
Not really something she should be doing.
Christa had gotten into the habit of laying as low as possible without taking unnecessary risks of someone recognizing her or overhearing anything that could lead back to Jack and the Ackermans—which she knew was extreme. The chances of that were ridiculously small and she knew she was being paranoid.
But even though she was pretty sure Jack had taken the secret of fathering Dillan to his grave, Christa couldn’t help but worry his family would somehow find out. And since she’d researched a little bit about his heritage after moving to Vegas and had read articles about his father being under suspicion of drug and gun running, she’d been extra careful of her activities in public with Dillan.
No way did she want her little boy mixed up with that family.
But Dillan wasn’t with her tonight. Not yet.
He was at the Dalton’s, making tacos and building Lego superheroes with James and Kyle. It was important for him to learn to play at other children’s houses and follow their rules, and since she trusted the family, Christa usually allowed him to do things with them when asked.
“I’m sure Dillan’s fine,” Stef said, squeezing her arm. “Relax. You need a night out.”
Mel nodded from across the table. “That’s the understatement of the year.”
She raised a brow. “I go out.”
“When?” Rylee asked as the others snickered. “Because every time I drive past your house after working hours, your vehicle is always there.”
Christa rented a well-maintained ranch-style house with a nice fenced-in yard near a neighborhood park, and just a few doors down from the local sheriff. It was close to work. Close to the daycare and even on the same road that led to the Dalton’s ranch and shelter.
She lifted her chin. “I go to the shelter. And the store. And take Dillan to his friends’ houses.”
“Those are all great,” Stef said, stirring her cocktail. “But none of them focus on doing something only for you.”
“Yeah.” Rylee narrowed her gaze. “I mean, Valentine’s Day is next weekend. When was the last time you were out on a date?”
Mel snorted. “She hasn’t dated one single time since moving here.”
“What?” Rylee’s brow rose.
She shrugged. “I’m not interested. I like to spend my free time with Dillan. I’m happy when my son is happy.”
“Christa.” Mel sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with that, but surely you can see that you need to do something fun for yourself once in a while.”
Stef nodded. “Yeah. And it doesn’t have to involve a guy.”
“Exactly,” Mel agreed. “I’ve read they’ve come along way with mechanical—”
“Stop right there.” Stef cut Mel off then turned back to her. “What I was trying to say is you can do something frivolous, like having Abby cut your hair. Or getting your nails done.”
She nodded and sighed inwardly. It’d been a long time since she’d done either of those things.
“Slow dance with a hunky, former military guy you’ve been inking…who’s headed this way with our guys?” Mel asked, stopping Christa’s heart.
She didn’t need to turn around to know Hunter was the man her friend was talking about. Goosebumps were already racing the awareness down her spine.
When she rose to her feet with her friends who welcomed greetings from their men in the form of hot kisses, Christa wished she could head out the door instead of standing face to face with Hunter Donovan.
Chapter Five
Of course, within five minutes of finishing their meals, the couples took to the dance floor, leaving Christa alone at the table with Hunter. Granted, Stef had quietly asked if she’d be okay, and Christa had insisted she was fine and that her friend should go dance with her husband.
And now she was trying to wrack her brain for something that wasn’t child or tattoo-related to talk to the guy about.
Maybe she did need to expand her horizons a little.
“Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” Hunter broke the silence, for which she was grateful.
Christa set her ginger ale on the table and snickered. “Didn’t expect to be here, either. Think my friends coerced the Daltons to have my son over for a playdate, even though they get together on Sundays after we help out at the shelter.”
Shoot.
What was with her…babbling like that? And she certainly knew better than to share information of her son’s whereabouts.
You’d swear she’d downed two glasses of wine tonight instead of soda.
Hunter, she noticed, had eaten nothing and barely drank from his bottle of beer the whole time. She knew from the girls that the men had come straight from a job earlier in the day. Perhaps they had a late lunch or something.
“You help out at Shadow Rock?” he asked, a flicker of surprise mixed with something unreadable in his dark eyes.
Was he asking to be polite? Or fishing for more information about Dillan? What did she really know about the guy?
Her heart rocked in her chest.
Maybe he was a plant, commissioning a large tattoo from her to gain information about Dillan and knowledge of his routine.
No. Her mind balked. That didn’t make sense, exactly. The guy had been in town over a month before he’d spoken to her about getting a tattoo. Surely, if he was an Ackerman spy, he would’ve tried something already.
Besides, Mac had introduced him last year as having been in Delta Force with him, Dex, and Carter, and had served with Dean, RJ, and Cooper. So, surely, they trusted him with their lives, or he wouldn’t be working at ESI.
No, she didn’t have anything to worry about with Hunter…except, perhaps her insane attraction to the guy.
“Yeah,” she finally replied. “I think it’s important to teach my son compassion and responsibility and why not do it while trying to help rescued animals?”
Holy crow. Again, she was starting to babble. She wasn’t going to have to worry about being stuck alone with the guy because her gibbering was going to send him running for the door.
“That’s true,” he said. “I help Kade with the horses on Saturdays whenever my job allows.”
She nodded, trying not to let that sweet tidbit about him go to her heart. But it was too late. Her heart had already caught the info and absorbed it deep inside, making her warm in some very special places.
Since that wasn’t necessarily a good thing—according to her mind, not her body—Christa was relieved Stef and Mac chose that moment to return to the table. It provided her the perfect opportunity to leave.
“Thanks for inviting me out, Stef,” she said, and would’ve set money on the table to cover her portion of the bill and tip, but Mac had already told the server it was on his tab. “And for dinner, Mac.”
The handsome guy smiled at her. “My pleasure. It was nice to finally get to treat you.”
“Do you have to go?” her friend asked.
She didn’t really but being near Hunter always made her feel…well…everything. It was like sensation overload.
So, she nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to head home and maybe take your advice and enjoy some ‘me’ time before Kade drops Dillan off. Watch some adult TV for a change.”
Disappointment flashed through Stef’s gorgeous eyes but understanding filled them with warmth. “Okay. I’ll walk you back to the shop to get your vehicle.”
“Absolutely not.” She rose to her feet but set a hand on her friend’s shoulder to keep her in her seat. “It’s only across the street and down a block. You stay and enjoy the band.”
Mac stood, a brow raised. “You’re not walking in the dark by you
rself.”
“She won’t be by herself,” Hunter said, already on his feet. “I’ll walk with her.”
Shoot. Perhaps she had been too hasty in refusing Stef’s offer.
She shook her head. “I don’t want to cut your night short, either.”
“You’re not,” he said, and because she noted honesty in his gaze she nodded.
It was better to just get it all over with.
Stef grinned. “Good. Okay. You two have a good night.”
She responded with an eye-roll then walked with Hunter toward the door.
Once outside, she inhaled the cool night air and glanced up at the sky. It was clear with a million stars surrounding the moon and they all served to add a soft glow to the streetlights that lit their path. A light sweater was all she needed to combat the fifty-degree temperature on the mild February night because her body was feeling a lot of heat coming off of the gorgeous man walking next to her.
Talking wasn’t really a possibility since it was taking all her effort to concentrate on walking without tripping, thanks to her wobbly knees. Man, she didn’t know what it was about this guy, but he definitely did it for her and that was not safe, considering she was alone and supposed to do something fun.
The hot images flashing through her mind had her shaking her head in an attempt to get rid of them.
“You okay?” he asked, glancing sideways at her as they walked down the alley that separated ESI and the strip mall where her SUV was parked in back.
She snorted. “Yeah. Sorry. I was shaking my head because I forgot to do something today.”
Yeah, hold onto her control.
Idiot.
“It can wait until tomorrow,” she said, since he was still looking at her, but obviously it couldn’t wait until then. She needed that control now. “Shoot,” she said as they rounded the back of the building and her SUV came into view, along with the flat front passenger tire.
“Do you have a spare?” he asked, having spotted it too.
She nodded. “Yeah, and a lug wrench, but no jack.”
“No problem,” he said, heading to the ESI garage. “Pop your liftgate.”
Hunter (HC Heroes Series Book 8) Page 4