JAMESON: Brothers Ink Tattoo (Brothers Ink Tattoo Series Book 1)

by Nicole James

  “Ava, look at me.” When she did, he searched her eyes. “Stuff happens in strange ways sometimes. Doesn’t matter how we got here, just that we got here somehow.”

  She smiled, loving what he said and how he made her face head-on what was happening between them.

  “You need a little more persuading?” Without waiting for her answer, his mouth came down on hers, and once again he showed her just how good they were together.

  When they finally broke apart, she couldn’t help the radiant smile on her face as she looked up at how happy he seemed. It was good to see him happy. And she liked that it was her who made him feel that way.

  “I love seeing you smile. I need this, Ava.” He gave her a quick peck and then pulled back. “I have to make a trip to Denver tomorrow. I want you with me.”

  Her brows drew together. “Denver? For what?”

  “I’ve got this coffee table book coming out with photos of some of my work. The book Courtney was referring to. The publishers arranged a signing for me.”

  “What do you need me for?”

  “I need a P.A.”

  “What’s a P.A.?”

  “Personal assistant.”

  She shook her head, grinning. “No you don’t.”

  He grinned back, caught in the lie. “Would you come if I just told you I want you with me?”

  “Because of that guy?”

  “I won’t lie. That’s part of it. But I also want you to come with me.”

  She looked down. “Jameson—”

  “It’s just two nights.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I think it’ll be good for us. Get away from everything. Try and figure out what this is between us.”

  She searched his eyes, thinking maybe he was right; maybe they did need some time to figure things out. She knew she certainly did. Finally, she nodded. “All right.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ava sat in the passenger side of Jameson’s big black pickup truck. They were a little over two hours into the four-hour trip to Denver, just passing the town of Vail. On her right, Ava could see the slopes and trails, their swatches of summer green grass cutting swathes across the wooded mountains. They looked odd without the snow and colorfully dressed skiers moving down them.

  Jameson turned up the stereo. “This is my favorite song that Rory’s band does.”

  She smiled, listening to the music. “They’re quite good aren’t they?”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “That scares you, doesn’t it?”

  His eyes swung to her for a moment, a frown on his face, before he returned his attention to the road. “Why do you say that?”

  “What if they make it big? That’s bound to break up that tight family unit you’ve worked so hard to hold onto.”

  She could tell her words hit home. He ran a hand over his jaw. “My focus has always been to keep this family together, that’s true.”

  “You’re very defensive to anything that threatens it.”

  “I’ve had to be.”

  “In the past, that was probably true.”

  “Probably?”

  She ignored his comment. “Take for example that girl from Utah, the one you ran off.”

  “What about her? She was bad news. Rory doesn’t need that in his life.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, but it was his decision to make. He’s a grown man. They all are. With dreams and aspirations of their own. Maybe they’ll want something other than the tattoo shop someday. You can’t rule them with an iron fist forever.”

  “Is that what you think I do?”

  “Don’t you?”

  He huffed out a breath. “I’ll always worry about the women they date. That probably won’t ever change. And I know I need it to be my way or the highway, I admit it. I know that may drive Liam away.”

  “He has a lot of ideas about the shop, doesn’t he?”

  “He does.” His eyes flicked to her. “Your little presentation didn’t help. Talking about the new systems and all they could do for us—when you got to the part about being able to connect between several locations, several shops, I think I literally saw the light bulb go on above Liam’s head.”

  “He’d like his own shop?”

  “He’d like to run things his own way, different from the way I do.”

  “How so?”

  “He’s edgier. I don’t know how to explain it. I just know his shop would look nothing like the one we have now.”

  “Yours looks more like an art gallery.”

  “Exactly. His would look much more old-school, grittier, darker. And there’s absolutely a market for that.”

  “What if he did break off and opened a second location of Brothers Ink?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I don’t even want to think about it.”

  “What about Max? Is tattooing his first love?”

  “Max enjoys working at the shop; I think he’s happy. But he does spend a lot of time at the gym. He’s developed quite a fascination with boxing and mixed martial arts.”

  “And you’re worried that may pull him away?”

  “Maybe.”

  “The very thing you fear most is coming about.”

  “I realize that. I realize I can’t keep the family together forever. My brothers have their own lives to lead. I can’t be the one to hold them back. I don’t want to be that man.” He looked over at her, and she could see the emotion in his eyes.

  “Jameson, you have to let the tight grip go, or you’re going to lose the very thing you’re trying to hold onto. Your brothers are grown. They can make their own decisions and choices.”

  He huffed out another laugh. “Telling me how to run my life?”

  She smiled at him. “Just offering a little observation.”

  “Okay, how about we turn the tables, and I tell you what I’ve observed? Think you can handle that, lady?”

  She turned away.

  “What? You can dish it out, but you can’t take it?”

  She turned back to him and lifted her chin. “Okay, fine. Fire away.”

  His eyes shifted to the highway, one hand on the wheel, the other brushing over his mouth. She studied him closely, and it seemed like he was considering his words carefully before he spoke.

  “We’re both the oldest. I know what that’s like. I know what it’s like to feel responsible for the others. But Ava, you are not responsible for what happened to your sister. You have to let go of the guilt. I know you loved her very much, but, sweetheart, you have to start living for yourself. You can’t live your life making it just about the charity and Lily’s memory.”

  He paused to stare over at her, but she remained mute. His words hit so close to home. She felt her throat close up. She made a soft protest. “I don’t, I—”

  “You do. You’re consumed by it.”

  She got quiet.

  “What about what you want? Doesn’t that ever figure in?” he asked softly.

  “It’s hard to let go of the guilt. I’ve carried it for so long.”

  “It’s not your fault. She wouldn’t want this for you.”

  She looked down, her thumbnail scratching at the label on her water bottle.

  “You know that, Ava. You have to know that.”

  “I understand that no matter what I do, I’ll never bring Lily back. But—”

  “Don’t you ever live? Live just for you?”

  “Maybe I don’t ride motorcycles, or mountain bikes, or play a guitar, or…or… fight MMA, but that doesn’t mean I don’t live.”

  “Sweetheart, I didn’t mean—”

  “Yes, you did. You think I have a boring life, that I have no rebellious spirit, but—”

  “Ava, the woman who let me give her a piercing and a tattoo has plenty of spirit. That’s what I’m trying to say. That’s the woman I want to see you let shine. Stop burying it under all this duty and responsibility and guilt. And just live, Ava. Free and easy and fun-loving, like I know you can.”


  “Can we please stop talking about this?”

  “You started it.”

  She looked over at him then and found him grinning. She rolled her eyes. “You sound like a six-year-old.”

  He stuck his tongue out at her, and she burst out laughing. Then he reached over and pulled her to him.

  “C’mere.”

  When her head leaned in, he kissed the top of it and ruffled his hand through her hair. “You hungry, babe?”

  She smiled. “I’m starved.”

  “Good, ‘cause I’m through with this therapy session we have goin’ on. How ‘bout we get a burger and a beer?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  ***

  They arrived in Denver a couple of hours later. Jameson pulled the truck into a parking garage of a high-rise condominium in the middle of downtown. They grabbed their overnight bags and took an elevator to the lobby. He moved to the reception desk and spoke with the woman behind it. He was given a key, and they headed to the elevator. Getting in, he pushed the button for one of the upper floors.

  “You have a condo here?”

  “Renting it for a couple nights. It’s on the market, though, and the realtor is pushing for a sale.”

  “You’re thinking of buying a place here in Denver? Why?”

  He shrugged. “Rory plays in Denver quite a bit. And all this talk of opening a second location has got me thinking. I had a lot of pressure to move to L.A. when I was doing the TV show. Maybe Denver could be the compromise.”

  She gave him a knowing smile. “Hmm. Jameson O’Rourke, I didn’t think you knew the meaning of the word.”

  He backed her into the wall of the elevator. “Babe, feels like the only thing I’ve done since I met you is one compromise after another.”

  “What we seem to always end up with are deals and bets. And you do seem to negotiate those quite well for yourself.”

  He grinned. “Isn’t that what compromises are made of? Negotiations?”

  “Somehow those compromises always seem to work in your favor, though, don’t they?”

  “Maybe I just negotiate better than you,” he teased, nuzzling her neck.

  The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. Jameson led her down the hall, stopped in front of one of the doors and inserted the key. When it swung open and she walked in, the first thing she noticed was the floor-to-ceiling expanse of windows that surrounded the corner unit on two sides.

  The furnishings were all modern with sleek lines and monochromatic grays and blacks against a polished travertine cream floor. The paintings on the wall were a combination of modern and post-modern art.

  She moved to the window to take in the view of the city and mountains beyond. “Oh, Jameson. Look at that view.”

  He came to stand a few feet behind her. She spun around, taking in the room. “It’s beautiful. Are you really thinking of buying this place?”

  He shrugged. “Considering it.”

  She cocked her head. “When did you meet with a realtor here?”

  “Right before I stormed into your office. I’d been in Denver. When I got back in town, the first thing I saw was that flyer of yours up all over the place.”

  “Oh.” She sucked her lips in. “So, you were thinking of another location even before you met me?”

  “At the time I was thinking more along the lines of a place for Rory to crash when he was in town.”

  She gave him a doubting expression. “You’d let the band crash here? They’d trash the place.”

  He grinned. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

  She glanced around again. “You can afford this?”

  “Well, that’s what happens when you scrimp and save and don’t blow your money on new computer systems,” he teased with a grin.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Okay, that and a shitload of TV money.”

  “Now that, I believe.”

  “And a book deal.”

  “Right. The reason we’re here.”

  “The reason we’re here. Yes, ma’am.” He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of which, I’ve got a meeting with some people in about an hour. You gonna be good to hang here for a while?”

  “Of course.”

  He took her face in his hands and tilted it up. His mouth was just inches away from hers as he said, “I’m glad you came.”

  “Me, too,” she breathed.

  He pressed a barely-there kiss to her lips. “I’ll show you how much when I get back.”

  She smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  He kissed her again and left.

  ***

  Ava lay in the dark, draped across Jameson’s slowly rising and falling chest. He had passed out after their second round of sex that night. Now Ava stared across him and out the big windows of the master bedroom at the city lights beyond the sheer curtains and thought about how she felt about this man who had barreled into her life with all the finesse of a freight train.

  He’d returned from his meeting with bags of Thai food, and they’d curled up on the couch with it. She felt so comfortable with him. They’d laughed and told stories from their childhoods and growing up. Chatting with a man had never felt so natural before. It was like she could finally relax and let her guard down. Now that they’d stopped fighting and antagonizing, they both realized just how much they truly enjoyed each other’s company.

  Her eyes dropped to the ink that covered his chest, and she couldn’t stop her hand from reaching out, her fingers tracing along the colorful lines. She followed along from his breastbone, over his ribs and down. She got to his hipbone before his hand came up and closed over hers, stilling her motion.

  “You ready for another go ‘round, babe?” His other palm slid over her ass cheek and squeezed.

  “Just admiring your ink.”

  “You like my ink? I figured you for a woman who’d hate men with tattoos.”

  “On you, they look good.”

  His palm rubbed over her ass cheek again and then roved up over the soft skin of her back. “I’d love to put some more on you.”

  She lifted her head to look up at him with a grin. “You would?”

  He cracked an eye open. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What would you put?”

  “I love the way the design I put on your hip peeks around at me when I fuck you from behind. I’d like to do something on the other side as well. And maybe something on your back.”

  “What about my breasts?” she asked in a teasing voice.

  He grinned as he pulled her up so his eyes could take them in as if he were considering. “Mmm. Nope. I’d leave them alone. Why mess with perfection?”

  That had her lowering her head to catch his mouth in a kiss. Two seconds later he was rolling, taking her down to the mattress. He pinned her hands to the bed.

  She smiled up at him. “Perfection, huh?”

  His eyes ran over her breasts again. “Absolutely.” Then he lowered his head and showed her just how much he liked them.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ava stood watching as Jameson sat at a table in the back of the huge bookstore. There was a line of people that snaked through the store and out the doors. Almost everyone in the line was inked, but Ava noticed a lot of young women who were not, but were most definitely infatuated with Jameson’s good looks and bad-boy appearance. Men, women, teens… they all bought his book by the pallets full.

  He took time with each fan, personalizing their copy, smiling and laughing with them, and even posing for pictures. Ava stayed nearby, in the background a bit, ready to keep him supplied with bottles of water, fresh pens, or anything else he might need. She noticed he glanced at her often, making sure she was still by his side. When the publicists and store managers tried to shuffle her to the background, Jameson quickly set them straight.

  It didn’t take long for one of the women who—Ava discovered—was with the production company for the reality show he’d done, to find her. Apparently the woman had noticed the impo
rtance with which Jameson labeled her.

  She stuck her hand out, credentials around her neck swinging. “I’m Becca Thompson. DRH Productions. How do you do?”

  Ava shook her hand. “Ava Hightower. Pleased to meet you.”

  “And how do you know Mr. O’Rourke?” the woman asked her.

  “I own a staffing company in Grand Junction, and I’m on the city council. Jameson and I are…friends.”

  The woman nodded, not buying that description of their relationship for a moment. “So, you’re both business owners, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have any pull with him?”

  “Pull?”

  “We’re trying to lock up negotiations for a second season of Inked Up. The network is pushing hard for an L.A. based shoot. We’re trying to get the loose ends wrapped up, which is why they sent me down here for his book release. ”

  “A second season? I thought the show was cancelled.”

  “Cancelled? Are you kidding? That show was huge. We’ve been begging him to commit to a second season.” Her phone rang, and she glanced down at it. “I’m sorry, I really have to take this. But it was lovely meeting you, Ava, dear. And anything you can do to push Jamie along, we’d love to get this locked down while he’s here in Denver.”

  Ava frowned at the woman and nodded. It really didn’t matter, though; Ms. Thompson was already pushing through the crowd to find a quieter spot to take her call.

  Ava’s eyes swung back to Jameson who was admiring the ink on a fan’s arm. Why had he let everyone think the show had been cancelled? Was he really thinking of going to L.A.? Why hadn’t he said anything? And why did the thought of him leaving town upset her so? She felt suddenly like her dog had just died, and she didn’t even have a dog.

  ***

  After the signing, Ms. Thompson offered to take them both out to dinner, but Jameson put her off, instead agreeing to meet with her in the morning. She wasn’t happy, but she was still sucking up in order to leave Denver with what she came for. So she agreed.

  That night, Jameson took Ava to a nice restaurant two blocks from the condo. He ordered them a bottle of wine. When it was brought and poured, he raised his glass to toast.

  “Are we celebrating something?” Ava asked.