Indelibly Intimate

by Cole, Regina

  The man had a lot of questions. Hammer answered them quickly and thoroughly, all the while trying his damnedest to keep the vision of Quinn’s naked ass, bouncing as he fucked her, out of his brain. It was damn well impossible.

  Once the guy finally left, Hammer poked his head around the curtain. “It’s safe now.”

  Quinn gazed up at him and his blood warmed. She looked like a woman who’d just been thoroughly fucked—tousled, dazed and more than satisfied.

  He let his lips curl upward. “You ready to come out now, Sparky?”

  Without any kind of smart comment, she stood. Her smile wasn’t her usual mischievous, nearly wicked one. It was smaller, softer, more introspective than he’d seen before from her.

  “Let’s go get some lunch.” She took his hand and he let her lead him from the booth.

  The small café across the street was crowded, full of colorfully inked convention goers. Hammer was quick to grab a table by the door, recently vacated by a guy with bad tribal armbands.

  “Hey Sparky, sit here. I’ll get us some food.” He didn’t realize until after he’d spoken that he’d ordered her, not asked her. For once she didn’t prickle but slid into the chair he held out for her.

  “Hey, can I borrow your phone while you’re doing that? I want to check in with Kim.”

  “Sure.” He passed her the shiny iPhone. “I’ll be right back.”

  She smiled up at him and as he wound through the many tables to the counter, he couldn’t help but feel like a million bucks. This girl had definitely done something to him. Damn if he knew what, and damn if he cared.

  The line was long but the employees were clearly used to these sorts of crowds. At Hammer’s turn, he thanked the guy behind the counter for the tray laden with food. As Hammer pivoted, he caught sight of Quinn at their table. Her cheeks had gone ash gray. She clutched her forehead and stared darkly at the phone in front of her.

  Fear gripped his spine.

  “What’s wrong?” The drinks tilted dangerously as he dropped the tray on the table. “Are you okay?”

  “I talked to Kim.” She rubbed at her eyes. “She went to my apartment to check on my fish.”

  “And?” Hammer dragged his chair closer to her and sat. Grabbing her free hand, he massaged her knuckles with his thumb. “What’d she say?”

  “The landlord padlocked my place.” The tears finally overflowed. She sniffed and said, “I don’t know what happened. I know I was a little behind but I’d been talking to him. He said he understood, that he’d work with me.” A sob broke free and she pillowed her head on her arm. Her fingers clutched at his, shaking as her tears took over.

  Hammer was completely lost for words. What the hell could he say to fix this? She’d basically been told she was homeless. His guts were in knots, his chest suspiciously tight. Anger welled in him, a fever that gripped his muscles, directed toward the jackass who put his Sparky through this.

  He hadn’t known her long but he knew for a fact it took a helluva lot to break this woman. The sobbing creature in front of him had been through hell. If Hammer ever found this guy, he’d beat the living shit out of him.

  “C’mere.” Hammer held her close to his chest.

  She balled her hands in the fabric of his shirt. Her tears spread warm wet patches through the cotton. He rubbed her back, not saying anything, hoping his presence would convey what words couldn’t. The busy restaurant hummed around them, seemingly oblivious to the sobbing girl and the man who held her.

  A few moments later she regained control of herself. Sitting upright, she rubbed her tears away. “I’m sorry, Hammer. I’m better now.”

  He grabbed a napkin from the tray. She accepted it with a grateful nod.

  “Don’t apologize. We’re going to fix this.”

  “How?” She wiped her reddened cheeks. “The only way I can make enough money to keep my apartment is to climb naked on a pole and that’s not happening.”

  He grabbed her and stared into her tearstained eyes. “You’ll come live with me.”

  Had those words come out of his mouth? The stunned look she gave him pointed to yes.

  The more he thought about it, the more certain he was.

  “Live…with you? Hammer, that’s so generous, but you can’t…”

  “I can and I am.” Sureness colored his words and he sat a little straighter. “Come on, Sparky. You know as well as I do that we’re good together. What have you got to lose? Come live with me.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  A nuclear bomb could have taken out that busy little café and it wouldn’t have stunned Quinn any more than Hammer’s offer had. Live with him? Every day, seeing him, being with him, laughing with him, knowing the steel beneath that lazy smile?

  Would it be a platonic roommates kind of agreement or the shared bedroom sort? Even if it started out as platonic, she already knew too much. She’d never be able to resist him, even if she wanted to. And she was nearly positive that if this happened, she didn’t intend to resist.

  She bit her lip and stared at the damp napkin she was shredding in her lap. “I’m going to need a little while to think about it. It’s a big change.” Lifting her gaze from the ripped paper, she hoped he could see her confusion.

  He nodded. “Take your time. The offer’s on the table. Coincidentally, so is lunch. Feel like eating anything?”

  She accepted the sandwich he held out to her. If only it were as easy to accept his offer. Unfortunately, the sandwich came with much less complication.

  He didn’t try to draw her out in conversation. She was more grateful than she could say. Even if the café were quieter and she didn’t have to shout to be heard over the noise of the lunch crowd, she had way too much on her mind to talk about anything.

  She took three bites of the chicken-salad sandwich he’d gotten her and hid the rest under a pile of balled-up napkins. Nerves replaced the hunger in her stomach with a thousand wriggling worries.

  “Ready to get back?” Hammer stood as he asked the question. Quinn nodded, grabbed her soda and followed him as he dumped the tray and led her out the doors.

  In the fresher air, she could breathe again. Even the sounds of the street were more peaceful than the raucous laughter and conversation from the restaurant.

  Hammer’s hand warmed the small of Quinn’s back as they crossed the street. The small act of compassion threw another wrench into her thought processes. He already treated her more like a girlfriend than anything else. There was no way that would stop if she agreed to be his roommate, right? Did she even want it to? Her throat closed up and she coughed, trying to loosen the knot that blocked her airflow.

  “You’ve been quiet. Did I say something wrong?”

  She pivoted abruptly, caught off guard by Hammer’s softly voiced question. He’d stopped by a concrete column in front of the convention hall. Leaning against it, he looked like a tall, tattooed statue, perfectly formed from a precious metal. Her chest ached with confusion and longing. Why couldn’t she make such a simple choice?

  “No, not at all. Sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”

  He nodded without further comment and Quinn forced a smile.

  “Come on, you’ve got more shitty tribals to cover.” Grabbing his arm, she pulled him toward the convention-hall doors, determined to swallow her worries for the afternoon. Her indecision wasn’t something to burden Hammer with.

  At the end of the day, she’d do anything she could to keep from hurting him, no matter what the personal cost might be.

  Her forced cheerfulness lasted for most of the afternoon. Instead of watching Hammer work—as she’d spent most of the morning when she wasn’t chatting up potential customers—she spent the time scanning the crowd, getting lost in the sea of cheerful faces and colorful bodies.

  Indecision dogged her thoughts. She went from being ninety-eight percent certain she’d take Hammer up on his offer, to being sure she’d leave town and never see him again. Why the fuck was this so hard?


  Hammer’s third client of the afternoon passed her. “Thanks,” the woman said, gesturing to the bandage on her upper arm. “This is gorgeous. I’m glad you stopped me this morning.”

  “He’s the best,” Quinn replied simply.

  When the woman was gone, Hammer came to stand next to Quinn. She feigned interest in the appointment book to avoid his gaze.

  “I’ve got to take a break. Stretch my legs for a second. Want to take a walk with me?”

  “You go ahead. I’ll stay here and hold down the fort.” She glimpsed up at him and hoped she was imagining the slight disappointment in his eyes.

  “Okay, Sparky. I’ll be right back.”

  Hammer disappeared into a knot of people. Quinn sighed, trying like fuck to ease the knot of tension in her shoulders. Stretching her legs out, she leaned forward, sighing as her anxious muscles relaxed.

  “Well look who’s here. Quinny, how you been?” The familiar voice hit her like a bucket of ice water and she jerked upright with a gasp.

  The man standing in front of her, cocky grin gleaming white against his darkly tanned skin and glistening curls, was none other than Guy Dionis. Her jaw worked but sound refused to break free of her frozen vocal cords.

  “Looking good, Quinny. I’ve always liked that top on you.”

  He leaned forward and took her lips in a demanding kiss. She was too shocked to jerk backward. The feeling of his mouth on hers didn’t stir the passion it used to. After a moment, she regained enough of her brain to pull free from his embrace.

  “Guy,” she choked out, crossing her arms over her midsection. “Where have you…”

  “I don’t have time right now, got a client waiting for me. But let’s catch up tonight, okay? Meet me at the bar. I’ve got some news that’s gonna put you and me on the map, darlin’.” He pressed another kiss to her stunned lips, winked and walked away whistling.

  Quinn stared after Guy, feeling as if someone had yanked her brain and heart from her left ear, stomped on them and walked away without a care in the world. For that matter, someone had.

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she grabbed her purse from beneath the table and sprinted down the aisle in the opposite direction than both Guy and Hammer had traveled. Time. And space. She needed both to sort out the knotted snarl of feelings that threatened to swamp her.

  Hammer made a circle of the convention floor, more to work off nervous energy than anything else. Quinn had definitely avoided getting close to him since he’d made the offer. He couldn’t deny the impulsive proposition had been sudden but damn it, what was he supposed to do? Watch while the best woman he’d ever known was forced into living at some homeless shelter? The thought was more than unappetizing, it was downright nauseating. Sparky was his, and he’d do whatever it took to protect her.

  He stopped short. Sparky…was his? They weren’t in a relationship, so how could she be? Unless…

  His beleaguered brain caught up with his heart in a rush. He loved Quinn. Her quick wit, her wicked smiles, her uninhibited response to him, all of it. She was perfect for him and he’d be damned if he let her get away.

  The memory of Lora made him pause but he dismissed it as quickly as it had come. What he’d felt for Lora wasn’t love. He’d been trying to make up for his brother’s mistakes.

  A decision made, Hammer strode back to his booth. He’d tell Quinn about Lora tonight. He didn’t want any secrets between them, not now that he was sure what he felt for her. Lora was the past and if Hammer had any damn choice in the matter, Quinn LaBrea was his present, his future and his eternity.

  Rounding the end of the aisle at a fast pace, Hammer nearly collided with the same jackass who’d tried to flatten him with the cart yesterday. He gave Jersey Shore a tight nod, ignoring his pissed-off look and continuing to the booth.

  “Sparky?” he called as he entered the small space. She wasn’t sitting at the table where he left her. He ducked around the privacy screen. Not there either.

  Confusion creased his forehead as he stood in the center of the aisle. Scanning the booths that flanked his, he searched each face for Quinn’s. Lots of people surrounded him but none of them were his girl. Where had she gone?

  “There’s the man.” A heavy palm clapped Hammer on the back. He nodded politely at the customer speaking. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day. Where do you want me?”

  Hammer guided the tall, thin man into the booth, giving one last glance behind him for Quinn. Where the fuck had she gone?

  The eagle spreading across the tall guy’s upper back was the largest piece Hammer had done that day. He tried his damnedest to clear his mind, focusing on the lines of the piece, the wicked curve of the beak, the lethal claws curled around arrows and dollar bills. But almost every time he re-inked his machine, he couldn’t stop his gaze from darting around in search of a reddish-haired woman in a black tank and shorts, with a beautiful phoenix on her thigh.

  Hours passed. When he finished the eagle, Hammer took another quick break, circling the convention floor. No sign of Quinn at all. When he returned, his next client was waiting. He worked on a snake tattoo, a flower and then a Day of the Dead skull. People and colors blended together, lines and curves and swirls all increasing his worry. He was taping a bandage loosely over the skull when the loudspeaker above him crackled.

  “That concludes day one of the Inktastic Convention! Please finish up your work and clear the floor. We open tomorrow morning at nine, if you can drag your hungover asses out of bed.”

  Hammer thanked the woman for her generous tip. After she and her friend left, he began the tedious task of cleaning down his equipment for the day. The door of the autoclave thunked shut and the whir of the machinery, usually a soothing sound, only chafed his already raw nerves.

  The sharp scent of bleach cleared his sinuses as he cleaned. If only his worry were as easy to obliterate. Once the autoclave was done, Hammer covered his equipment and secured the booth. His thoughts buzzed as he worked, worries about Quinn stabbing at his brain. She hadn’t been back all afternoon. For all he knew, she’d grabbed her shit and gone home. Could offering to let her move in with him have caused her to be so upset? He didn’t think so, but hell, what did he know?

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, he started up to the room. Maybe she had a headache and had gone upstairs to lie down.

  “Hey.” Her voice, coming from behind, stopped him in his tracks.

  Taking a deep, steadying breath, he turned to her. “Hi, Sparky. Where’ve you been?”

  Her eyes were downcast, her arms crossed beneath her breasts as she shifted from foot to foot. “Something came up and I had to get it taken care of. I’m sorry.”

  “No worries.” Following some instinct he didn’t understand, he closed the distance between them and folded her into his arms.

  She resisted for a moment then clung to him almost desperately, burrowing against his chest. Pressing his lips against her hair, he closed his eyes. He didn’t say anything for a while, just rubbed her back, hoping to ease the knots of tension that were so easy to feel against his palm.

  “Thank you,” she whispered against his chest.

  “Come on, Sparky. Let’s go get you some dinner.”

  Threading his fingers through hers, he led her from the mostly empty convention floor. Something had to have happened while he was gone but he was smart enough not to press it at the moment. All thoughts of coming clean to her about his feelings flew out the damn window. She had a lot going on and telling her something like that when she wasn’t ready to hear it would definitely do more harm than good.

  After stowing the pale-and-silent Quinn in their room and wrangling a reluctant promise from her that she wouldn’t leave until he got back, he left to grab some food for them from the restaurants across the street. He needed to protect her, keep her safe from whatever demons were dogging her at the moment. With some food and privacy, he’d do his damnedest to heal whatever wound had broken open. He prayed to whoever wou
ld listen that whatever hurt her hadn’t been his doing.

  Quinn curled on her side, staring at the wall. She felt like a shrimp. A limp, dead, floppy, brainless shrimp. She stretched an arm out in front of her and examined the color. Yup. Gray. Not even the bright-pink blush of a cooked shrimp. Just a spineless crustacean that should be skewered and thrown over an open flame to cook until it was rubber.

  What the fuck was wrong with her? This should be an easy decision. Guy had left her. Not only had he left her, he’d taken her credit and shoved it in the toilet before skipping town. She should have throttled him, as she’d done in her daydreams over the past weeks.

  But instead of the blinding rage she’d thought she’d have when she saw him again, a cold confusion swamped her. Doubt crept into her consciousness, along with the memory of him from years ago, his bright eyes, clever smile and warm hands. He hadn’t always been this way. They’d been good together once. They’d fallen in love when she was only a girl, and somewhere along the way she’d become a woman. But she wasn’t the only one who’d changed. The sweet, laughing boy she’d known had become self-centered, more concerned for his own well-being than anyone else’s. Was the man she’d loved beneath that tanned veneer anymore? Should she meet him tonight to find out?

  Balling the pillow up against her, she burrowed into it. The musky, sweet smell of Hammer’s soap greeted her nostrils. Hammer. She’d never known a man like him. The way he treated her, like a precious thing to be cared for, protected, even cherished, it warmed her to the core. He teased her mercilessly, he drove her body mad, and the way he’d held her when she returned to the convention confused and bewildered? It almost melted the last of the resistance she’d tried to put between them.

  Almost.

  The confusion stalled her brain, preventing her from taking that final leap.