INK

by Elizabeth Hunter

  “You want to try for a late lunch?” Ox asked after the customer left. “I don’t have a client today until three.”

  “Let me check with Tayla.” Emmie texted Tayla, who was helping Daisy with her books that morning. Most days there wasn’t enough for Tayla to do at INK, so she’d started helping Daisy and Ethan with their bookkeeping. Emmie was hoping it would turn into a full-time gig for Tayla so her friend would find more reasons to stay in Metlin. In their first month, INK had shown a small profit for both Emmie and Ox. Ox had looked disappointed, but Emmie was fine with it. Small profit was fine as long as it was growing profit. They were just heading into the holiday season too. In the retail world, there was no better time to sell.

  She glanced over at Ox, who was sketching while she waited to hear back from Tayla. “Holidays are best for retail. Are there best times for tattooing too?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve only worked in Metlin. And in Metlin, it’s usually fall when all the college kids come back to town.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “And I usually get a spike in the early summer. People get anniversary tattoos.”

  Emmie smiled. “Really?”

  He nodded. “But I refuse to do names. Designs are fine. Hearts. Flowers. Symbols or verses. But no names.”

  “Why?”

  “Kiss of death for any relationship.”

  She cocked her head. “Fifty-year anniversary?”

  “Nope. Not even then.”

  Emmie frowned. “But I’ve seen you do names.”

  “Kid names. Mom names. Dad names. All those are fine. Significant others? Not a chance.” He glanced up and smiled. “So if you ever ask me to write my name on your ass, I’ll be tempted but I won’t do it.”

  Her mouth twitched. “I was going to ask for that for my birthday.”

  “No, you weren’t.” He held up his hand. “My handprint though…”

  Emmie balled up a piece of paper and threw it at him. Ox laughed just as her phone chimed.

  “It’s Tayla. She can watch the shop from one to two.”

  “Cool. Tacos?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Emmie tried to keep the smile from breaking through. So far working next to Ox and dating him wasn’t hard at all. In fact, it was easy. Most mornings he stayed out at the ranch helping his sister and mom with something or another. He rolled in around noon and got ready for work. He’d sketch custom pieces or do the small amount of bookkeeping his shop generated. As long as he didn’t work too late, he’d come up after he was finished and hang out at her place for a while. Sometimes he fell asleep on the couch, making her wonder just how early he was waking up at the ranch.

  Emmie estimated Ox was working an average of three hours a day tattooing. At one hundred dollars for a one-hour tattoo, it seemed like a sweet income, but every client took at least an hour of preparation, so it was really more like fifty dollars an hour for six hours of work. She didn’t know all his expenses, but he probably needed to get more customers to make a solid profit.

  She tried to keep her mind on her own accounts. Ox’s business was Ox’s business. She just wanted him to be successful because she could tell how much he loved his work.

  His favorites were the custom pieces he sketched himself. Emmie could see how much he enjoyed them, and he put a lot more time into perfecting them than his clients probably realized. He would fiddle with a single sketch for hours, trying to imagine how his art would look on the natural curve of a back or shoulder or hip and how it needed to change when it was translated onto skin. He’d often sketch something out and then ask her or Tayla to come over so he could see the piece against a body. But Ox didn’t care about the extra time because his custom clients were his best clients.

  The worst were the kids who wandered in and didn’t know what they wanted. Sometimes they’d find a design they liked on his wall. More often he’d spend a half hour talking with them and they’d wander out, promising to come back later. They usually didn’t.

  She saw him nodding off as lunch rolled closer.

  “Ox.”

  He blinked and sat up straighter. “Hmm?”

  “I’ll be here another hour,” she said. “Why don’t you go upstairs to my room and take a nap?”

  He yawned and shook his head. “I’m fine.”

  She walked to him and ran a hand over his fine buzz cut, glancing at the customers on the other side of the shop who were looking at them. She’d been shy about public displays of affection so far. She didn’t want people talking too much.

  Of course, in Metlin that was almost impossible.

  She could tell Ox was pleased. He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm. “Hi.”

  “Go take a nap. You hiked all day on Monday. You worked until midnight last night. And how early were you up this morning at the ranch?”

  He bit the tips of her fingers. “Are you trying to take care of me, Emmie Elliot?”

  She shrugged.

  He rose and pulled her closer. He was really taking advantage of the public display thing.

  Give him an inch…

  Ox took the mile. He bent down and kissed her before she could stop him.

  “Since you’re trying to take care of me, I’ll let you. Is the apartment open?”

  She handed him her keys. “For you? Yes. I’ll let Tayla know you’re up there if she comes back early.”

  “Sweet, sweet, sweet,” he muttered. “Thank you. Wake me up for lunch, yeah?”

  “I will.”

  But she couldn’t. By the time lunch rolled around, Tayla came back for the afternoon, and Emmie walked upstairs, the sight of Ox lying in her bed sprawled in a sunbeam was too tempting. She set the alarm on her phone, crawled in next to him, and cuddled close. Eating could wait.

  “Emmie?”

  A sunbeam shone across her closed eyes.

  “Em?”

  Something tickled her nose. She turned her head and smacked her face into a hard chest, startling her awake. Emmie reared back, suddenly remembering where she was. She was in her own bed next to Ox.

  “How much time do we have?” she mumbled. “Why is your shirt on?”

  A low laugh rumbled in his chest, and she forced her eyes up.

  “Hey,” Ox said. “I wish we could skip lunch to fool around, but I have to drive out to the ranch.”

  Emmie blinked and tried to clear her head. She grabbed for her phone and checked the clock. “You don’t have time. You have a client at three.”

  “I already called him.” Ox rubbed a strand of hair between her fingers. “He can reschedule. And Melissa had a minor emergency with a picking crew that she needs some help with.”

  “Shoot.”

  “So I have to cancel lunch.” He kissed her forehead. “Sorry.”

  Emmie shook her head. “It’s fine. Are you coming back later?”

  “Depends on how long it takes. I might just stay out there for dinner. I haven’t been spending enough time with Abby the past few weeks.”

  He didn’t say it, but Emmie heard it. Because I’ve been spending time with you.

  “It’s fine. I’ll let everyone know you had to take off.”

  “Thank you.” He bent down and took her lips, kissing her so long and slow that her body forgot they didn’t have time for more. She was aching by the time he rolled away and stood up. Ox walked out the door and closed it softly a moment before the alarm on her phone went off.

  Emmie sighed and decided to walk back down to INK. She wasn’t all that hungry for lunch.

  By the time dinner rolled around and she still hadn’t heard from Ox, she decided to turn the Closed sign around in his window and start cleaning up.

  “What’s up with your inked mountain man?” Tayla asked.

  “Some kind of problem on the ranch,” Emmie said. “He told me he might not come back tonight.”

  Tayla pursed her lips.

  “What?” Emmie asked. She could tell when Tayla had something to say.


  “He spends a lot of time out there. That’s all I was thinking.”

  “Well, he lives out there and it’s his family’s place.”

  “Does he get paid?”

  “Tayla, that’s none of my business.”

  Emmie had tried to forget it, but Ginger’s first visit to the shop sprang back into her mind, and a thread of doubt began to twist. “He’ll always pick them over you. You know that, right?”

  Emmie tried not to let Ginger’s voice in her head, but it was hard not to the following week when Ox once again canceled a client and dinner plans to help his sister out with a broken fence.

  She and Tayla had been closing up the shop the night before, after Emmie had been forced to turn away two walk-ins at Ox’s shop. She handed them a card but didn’t know what else to do.

  “Did you ask him if he’s getting paid to work out there?” Tayla asked.

  “I can’t do that! It’s none of my business. It’s his family, and I’m sure his sister wouldn’t call if it wasn’t an emergency.”

  Tayla was straightening up the lounge area. “I know what you’re saying, but he’s missing work right now so he can help with something that he’s probably not getting paid for. Those were two new customers that—let’s be honest—aren’t likely to come back.”

  “I don’t know. They took his cards.” Emily turned the Main Street sign to Closed. “It’s different with a family business. Do you think I got paid every time I watched the shop for my grandma?”

  “Of course not, but you also weren’t trying to get a new business off the ground.” Tayla walked to the coffee station and unplugged the machine, putting the carafe into the sink and tossing in spoons and mugs beside it. “I’m a little worried that his sister doesn’t realize how important this is to him.”

  “…at some point they will make him choose, and he will choose them.”

  “You mean you’re worried Ox’s sister doesn’t know what the shop means to me.”

  “Yeah.” Tayla turned. “To you too. I know technically he’s just a renter and you don’t have a legal partnership, but the two of you planned this place together, and you’ve invested a lot. I just want to make sure he’s still in this. We’ve passed the exciting new stage, and now it’s time to buckle down and work. I know you’re all in. I just want to make sure his priorities are in line. He still hasn’t answered my questions, by the way.”

  “I think you need to let the questions go.” Emmie shook her head and plugged the register in to the wall charger. “I’m not his boss. We wouldn’t have any relationship at all if I were his boss.”

  “I know. But you deserve to—” Tayla stopped when someone tapped on the door. “Well, shit.”

  Emmie turned to see who had… “Ohhhh, shit.” She forced a smile to her face and waved.

  Adrian Saroyan was standing at the Main Street door, his tie loose, holding up the copy of Sense and Sensibility he’d bought from Emmie.

  “I have to let him in,” Emmie whispered.

  “Why?” Tayla hissed.

  “Because it would be rude not to!” Emmie kept the smile on her face and went to unlock the door. “Hey! How are you doing, Adrian?”

  “Better now that I caught you,” he said. “The past couple of weeks have been insane at work, but I finally finished the book and I was walking home, so I thought I’d swing by.”

  Shit. “How did you like it?”

  “I was way off about Willoughby.” Adrian smiled. “No wonder you got that look on your face when I mentioned him.”

  Emmie laughed. “Yeah, he’s definitely not the hero.”

  “Not in the least. But I don’t want to say more.” He held up the book. “I’d rather talk about it at dinner with you.”

  Shit shit shit. “I’m not sure what my schedule is this weekend. Can I text you?”

  Adrian smiled. “Absolutely. I know what it’s like working for yourself, so I get it. Maybe Sunday or Monday night? Monday’s your day off, right?”

  Emmie nodded. “I’ll text you.”

  “Great.” Adrian backed toward the door, holding the book up. “I’m so glad I read this. It was not what I was expecting. Really funny. I can’t wait to read more Austen.”

  Emmie’s bookseller brain was thrilled at the prospect of anyone reading more Austen while her introvert brain had already checked out to hide in a closet somewhere, far away from any interpersonal drama.

  Adrian nodded at Tayla and Emmie. “Ladies, I’ll see you later. Have a great night. Emmie, can’t wait to talk more.”

  “Bye,” Tayla said. “So nice to see you again.” She locked the door behind Adrian and turned, her eyes as big as saucers. “Why didn’t you tell him you’re with Ox?”

  “I don’t know!” Because she wasn’t sure she was?

  They weren’t sleeping together. They kissed a lot, but their dates were pretty casual. Ox wasn’t calling her his girlfriend or anything. She felt the knot of anxiety she kept locked down during her workday begin to tangle even more, and there was no Ox there to distract her or put her at ease. Just her old neuroses welcoming the new neuroses that had walked in the door with Adrian Saroyan and a finished copy of Sense and Sensibility.

  “Are you going to go out with him?” Tayla asked. “I mean, I would, but I’m not you. You’re more of a one-dude-at-a-time person.”

  Emmie put her phone in her purse and shut off the lights in the shop. She walked down to the office.

  “Emmie, what are you doing to do?” Tayla followed her. “Did you already say yes to the date?”

  Yes. Yes, she had.

  “Talk to me.” Tayla grabbed her shoulder and turned her. “Don’t freak out. Talk to me.”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Emmie said. “I did agree to go out with him. And it’s not as if he tricked me into a date or any shit like that. He asked. I said yes.”

  “What about Ox?”

  “I don’t know!” Emmie threw up her hands. “Are we exclusive? Should I go out with Adrian and tell him that I’m falling for another guy? That seems shitty. Do I tell him ahead of time and cancel? I don’t know how this works. I’ve never had two men actually interested in dating me at the same time. How do you do this?”

  Tayla shrugged. “I keep all things casual, but you’re not me. Okay, calm down.” She walked to the desk and turned off the computer. She switched off the copy machine and the lights before she herded Emmie out the door and toward the stairs. “Chill out. Take a breath.”

  Emmie breathed. She took multiple breaths. Deep breaths. Breaths her yoga instructor would be very proud of. It didn’t help the fact that she was actively lusting after one guy and pretty sure she was falling in love with him while she’d already agreed to a date with another guy.

  And to complicate things more, the guy she was lusting after was being oddly reticent about taking things further than heated kisses. He spent more time at his family ranch than at their shop and hadn’t asked her to be exclusive. In fact, up until a couple of weeks ago, she’d been firmly in the “do not get involved with” category for Ox.

  And it wasn’t as if Adrian was a bad guy! He was a nice guy. A really nice guy. He’d made a bad first impression and then set about correcting it. He’d actively pursued something that was important to her so he could get to know her better. He took flowers to his mom and had offered to read a math picture book at story hour in the shop. She admired Adrian. He was a good person.

  Tayla heated up the lasagna she’d made the night before and served two pieces while Emmie’s mind whirled.

  Ox and Adrian. She couldn’t imagine two men more opposite. Both were great in their own way. Both were interested.

  But only one kept her up until midnight worrying that she hadn’t heard from him.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ox had left on a Wednesday. By Friday, Emmie still hadn’t heard from him. She’d had a quick text on Thursday, but that was all.

  Rockslide in one of the pastures.

&nbs
p; Need to take Thursday off too.

  I’ve called my clients.

  Sorry, Buttons.

  Ox might have called his own clients, but Emmie had to explain to three customers that morning that she didn’t know when he’d be available for a consultation. Ox had more than a few walk-ins, even with his sign turned to Closed. Emmie could do little besides smile and give out his business card.

  Added to Ox’s noncommunication was the fact that Adrian had texted her three times, hoping to make a dinner date for Sunday night. Emmie still didn’t know what to do.

  Luckily she had work.

  Tayla leaned over the coffee table, looking at the sketch Emmie had shown her while they drank their morning coffee. Ethan had joined them that morning, walking over from the hardware store with a few “props” Emmie had asked to borrow.

  “I like this,” Tayla said. “You said the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas is really that busy for home-improvement stuff?”

  “Earlier,” he said. “Right about now, in fact.”

  “That surprises me,” Emmie said.

  “Me too.”

  “I know it seems crazy with how busy things are around the holidays, but there are a lot of people who want to get that room painted before the Christmas party or finish the guest room before the parents visit, you know?”

  “That makes sense,” Emmie said. “And if it’s starting now, that gives us a good second theme window before Thanksgiving.” She’d started changing the windows to have a new window a week, alternating between the west and east windows. So each theme was highlighted for two weeks, but there was something new to see every week. So far foot traffic, especially on weekends, had been their most successful local advertising. The windows drew people in. The uniqueness of the shop kept them browsing and buying.

  If only the other half of INK were present.

  She tapped the sketch. “So if you can help me with this background—”