by Angel Payne
Not that Shannon would ever understand that.
“Oh, baby, you know what I want.”
He barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. As he took a step back, he saw the gleam in her eyes and decided to head it off at the pass. He was in no mood to play her games, or whatever she wanted to do that night. He wanted to go home, drink a beer, and forget this oddly annoying day.
“If you don’t want ink, then I don’t know what you’re doing here, Shannon. We’re done.” He tried to say it quietly, but his voice was deep, and it carried.
“How could you be so cruel?” She pouted.
“Oh, for the love of God,” Maya sneered. “Go home, little girl. You and Austin are through, and I’m pretty sure it was mutual. Oh, and you’re not getting any ink here. You’re not getting Austin’s hands on you this way, and there’s no way in hell I’m putting my art on you. Not if you keep coming back to bug the man you didn’t really date in the first place.”
“Bi—” Shannon cut herself off as Austin glared. Nobody called his sister a bitch. Nobody.
“Goodbye, Shannon.” Jesus, he was too old for this shit.
“Fine. I see how it is. Whatever. You were only an okay lay anyway.” She shook her ass as she left, bumping into a woman in a linen skirt and blouse.
The woman, whose long honey-brown hair hung in waves down to her breasts, raised a brow. “I see your business has an…interesting clientele.”
Austin clenched his jaw. Seriously the wrong thing to say after Shannon.
“If you’ve got a problem, you can head on right back to where you came from, Legs,” he bit out, his voice harsher than he’d intended.
She stiffened then raised her chin, a clear sense of disdain radiating off of her.
Oh yes, he knew who this was, legs and all. Ms. Elder. He hadn’t caught a first name. Hadn’t wanted to. She had to be in her late twenties, maybe, and owned the soon-to-be-opened boutique across the street. He’d seen her strut around in her too-tall heels and short skirts but hadn’t been formally introduced.
Not that he wanted an introduction.
She was too damn stuffy and ritzy for his taste. Not only her store but the woman herself. The look of disdain on her face made him want to show her the door and never let her back in.
He knew what he looked like. Longish dark brown hair, thick beard, muscles covered in ink with a hint of more ink coming out of his shirt. He looked like a felon to some people who didn’t know the difference, though he’d never seen the inside of a jail cell in his life. But he knew people like Ms. Elder. They judged people like him. And that one eyebrow pissed him the fuck off.
He didn’t want this woman’s boutique across the street from him. He’d liked it when it was an old record store. People didn’t glare at his store that way. Now he had to walk past the mannequins with the rich clothes and tiny lacy scraps of things if he wanted a fucking coffee from the shop next door.
Damn it, this woman pissed him off, and he had no idea why.
“Nice to meet you too. Callie!” he shouted, his eyes still on Ms. Elder as if he couldn’t pull his gaze from her. Her green eyes never left his either, and the uncomfortable feeling in his gut wouldn’t go away.
Callie ran up beside him and held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Callie. How can I help you?”
Ms. Elder blinked once. Twice. “I think I made a mistake,” she whispered.
Fuck. Now he felt like a heel. He didn’t know what it was with this woman, but he couldn’t help but act like an ass. She hadn’t even done anything but lift an eyebrow at him, and he’d already set out to hate her.
Callie shook her head then reached for Ms. Elder’s elbow. “I’m sure you haven’t. Ignore the growly, bearded man over there. He needs more caffeine. And his ex was just in here; that alone would make anyone want to jump off the Royal Gorge. So, tell me, how can I help you? Oh! And what’s your name?”
Ms. Elder followed Callie to the sitting area with leather couches and portfolios spread over the coffee table and then sat down.
“I’m Sierra, and I want a tattoo.” She looked over her shoulder and glared at Austin. “Or, at least, I thought I did.”
Austin held back a wince when she turned her attention from him and cursed himself. Well, fuck. He needed to learn not to put his foot in his mouth, but damn it, how was he supposed to know she wanted a tattoo? For all he knew, she wanted to come in there and look down on the place. That was his own prejudice coming into play. He needed to make it up to her. After all, they were neighbors now. However, from the cross look on her face and the feeling in the room, he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to make it up to her today. He’d let Callie help her out to start with, and then he’d make sure he was the one who laid ink on her skin.
After all, it was the least he could do. Besides, his hands all of a sudden—or not so suddenly if he really thought about it—wanted to touch that delicate skin of hers and find out her secrets.
Austin cursed. He wouldn’t let his thoughts go down that path. She’d break under his care, under his needs. Sure, Sierra Elder might be hot, but she wasn’t the woman for him.
If he knew anything, he knew that for sure.
*
Find out more in Delicate Ink. Out Now.
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