Inked by an Angel

by Allen, Shauna

  Kyle’s mother gave a soft cough to clear her throat. Kyle rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. Ms. Gentry, this is my mother, Alexandra O’Neill. Mom, this is Jed Gentry and his mother. One of my clients works with Jed.”

  Never one to falter in the club setting, her mother gushed and put on a show of greeting and gossip as the two women made their way over to the bar for a refreshment, leaving Kyle and Jed alone.

  Jed cleared his throat and glanced over at Charles. “Looks like loverboy is no worse for wear.”

  “Yes. And thank you for the ride.”

  He studied at her, his expression unreadable. “You’re welcome.”

  She grimaced and rubbed her temple again.

  “You have a headache, Kyle?”

  Surprised, she dropped her hand and stared at him.

  “What? Do I have something on my face?”

  She thought about pointing out that it was what was missing from his face that was more obvious to her today, but she decided to leave that alone. “You called me Kyle.”

  “So? That’s your name, isn’t it?”

  “It is, but —. . .”

  “But what?”

  “So, we’re done with Muffet then?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe.” He looked over as Charles made his way toward them.

  She was still studying his face when Charles tucked his arm around her waist and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Darling.” He nodded at Jed. “Hello.”

  “Hey.”

  She looked at Charles. He was smiling politely at Jed like he didn’t recognize him from the party. Jed seemed to realize this too and looked like he was brewing a scheme.

  He held out a hand. “Name’s Jed.”

  Charles smiled politely. Some of the green seemed to be fading from his face. “Charles Benson. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I see you’ve met my fiancée, Kyle?”

  “Yes, I have. She was just telling me how much you enjoy a nice Vodka. I know the bar here stocks Grey Goose. Join me for a drink?”

  Charles cringed.

  Kyle paled. “Oh, I . . . why don’t you stay . . .”

  “Sure,” Charles answered before Kyle could make an excuse for him.

  Jed smiled and the two men walked away. She stood alone and watched as her fiancé and the man she’d very nearly kissed just the night before went to enjoy a couple of drinks together like old chums. Strangely, she noticed her headache was subsiding. She allowed her eyes to slide down to Jed’s behind in his pressed slacks. Wait. Slacks? He should’ve been out of his element here. This should be her comfort zone. But he seemed just as comfortable here as he did at the tattoo parlor and she felt just as out of place.

  She took the opportunity of being alone to step into the closest quiet corner and breathe. Other than the pesky, lingering ache behind her eyes and the sexy bald man that’d kept her up last night, her life was pretty much where she wanted it. Wasn’t it?

  She glanced down at the ring on her left hand. The gem caught the light and sparkled like a diamond should, but it only seemed to taunt her. She swallowed and glanced up. Instead of seeking comfort from Charles, her eyes automatically sought out Jed. Like a beacon, his aura drew her in from across the room. He was studying Charles as he rattled on very self-importantly, probably feeling rather superior as Junior VP at a prestigious firm. Charles settled back in his chair as he spoke and used his hands as he made his point. Jed nodded slightly and quietly indicated for the bartender to refill their glasses, never taking his attention from Charles. Kyle had to hand it to him. He was good. Charles surely thought he was enthralling some simpleton with his business prowess, but Kyle knew better. Somehow, she knew those blue eyes better than that. Jed was the one in control here and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Maybe she should step in. But another look at Charles’s self-satisfied face and she turned away.

  “Drink it up, Charles. I hope it’s a great cure for your hangover, sweetheart,” she whispered to herself as she turned to her mother who was across the room hanging on every word coming out of Ms. Gentry’s mouth.

  The women smiled and chatted and seemed entirely too cozy. Kyle felt like an outsider. An imposter. Desperate for an escape, she sank into the nearest chair and laid her head on the table. When had her life gotten so off track? She sighed and admitted it was her own fault. Something inside of her wasn’t wired for the life neatly paved in front of her and she’d been bucking it.

  She turned her head and studied Charles with glum eyes. But, why not? It could be so easy. She sat up and thought about it. She could do it. She could. She could finish working for Michael. Then go back to work at Daddy’s firm until the wedding, maybe for a little while after. Surely, it hadn’t all been horrible and soul-sucking . . . But, more importantly, soon she could focus on being Charles’s wife and hopefully the mother to their children. She could run the house and do some charity events, maybe even spend some time on long neglected hobbies. They could really make a go of it. It could work. She tried to smile. It wasn’t painful . . .

  Kaboom! A huge crack of thunder rattled the windows and a peal of lightning lit up the previously blue skies. Startled squeals tittered through the room and the lights flickered off then back on. A waitress had appeared in front of Kyle at that moment and nearly toppled a tray of drinks into her lap with a nervous jump.

  “Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry,” the girl apologized.

  “It’s okay. That was spooky,” Kyle smiled at the still skittish waitress.

  “Yeah.” She smiled back then checked to make sure her drinks were still intact. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Oh, wait, silly me. I’ve already got something for you.”

  “Something for me? But I didn’t order anything.”

  “Yeah.” The girl winked. “From the man at the bar.” She set down a mineral water and a glass of soda and held out her hand. “Here you go.”

  Automatically Kyle reached out. “What’s this?”

  “Aspirin. And a Coke. For your headache. The caffeine will help,” she said with a smile.

  Kyle accepted it and mumbled her thanks. She watched the waitress walk away then studied the little white pills in the palm of her hand. The man at the bar? Had Charles or Jed sent her these things? She glanced over. Neither one was paying her any attention. Charles was still talking away, apparently loving the sound of his own voice, while Jed was keeping a loving eye on his mother.

  And that gaze was like a sucker punch to the solar plexus. Kyle could handle his sourpuss moods and his surly temper. She was used to his keeping her at arm’s length and pushing all her buttons just to get a rise out of her. She was even used to his sex appeal and could handle her body’s reaction to his pheromone factory. But that . . . that look of utter and complete love and devotion to a woman, even if it was his mother, was undoing her.

  She looked away and swallowed the pills with the mineral water and followed with a big chug of the ice-cold soda, praying that Charles had been uncharacteristically thoughtful and sent over the ministrations for her headache.

  “Darling.” Charles strolled up a few minutes later with her father and brother in tow. “How’s your stomach?”

  Okay, so there went that hope. “It’s fine.”

  “I’m glad.” He kissed her temple with dry lips and she smelled vodka on his breath. “Listen, sweetie, it looks like that little bit of a storm we had passed us by. We thought we’d go ahead with our golf game. You don’t mind, do you?” He eyed her expectantly, like he knew she wouldn’t mind. Of course she wouldn’t mind. She never minded. She was the perfect country club wife-in-training. The one who was going to stay home and tend his house and raise his perfect country club babies and bake pies and attend charity events and crochet and . . .

  “Kyle,
darling? Do you mind?” His brows furrowed in concern.

  She glanced at her father and brother then back to Charles. “No, of course not. Go have a good time.”

  They all smiled at her like they knew that was exactly what she was going to say. Charles kissed her again, on the lips this time, and she tasted the vodka and could tell that he was tipsy. “I’ll see you in a while, then we’ll have the buffet for lunch. I hear it’s prime rib today. How’s that?”

  She hated red meat. He knew that. “Fine.”

  She watched as the three men set off on their golf game and her mother left for her ladies’ auxiliary meeting. The Mecca for all bored country club wives who wanted to pretend they led interesting and meaningful lives. Surely her life was destined for something different. Right? She wanted to cry. Instead, she went to Charles’s vacated seat at the bar and sat down.

  “What can I get you?” the bartender asked as he wiped down the counter in front of her.

  “Uh . . .” She wasn’t much of a drinker. She didn’t really know what to order.

  “How about a mimosa?” suggested an elegant female voice next to her. “Make it two.”

  Kyle turned as Jed’s mother slid into the seat next to her. “I hope you don’t mind?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  The bartender turned to make their cocktails and Kyle smiled at Jed’s beautiful mother while trying not to be obvious about looking for him.

  Paula Gentry accepted her drink with a gracious smile and took a long, greedy swallow. “Mmmm, I needed that,” she said with a satisfied smile.

  Kyle sipped her drink as well for something to do, not sure what to say to this woman whose son she’d fantasized about more than once, and very nearly locked lips with just the night before. “So,” Ms. Gentry cut into her thoughts. “Are you enjoying working with Michael and Jedediah?”

  Kyle glanced up surprised at the use of Jed’s full name. “Oh, well . . .” Unconsciously her eyes moved over Ms. Gentry’s shoulder watching for him.

  “He’s outside making some phone calls.” She placed a reassuring hand on Kyle’s. “You don’t have to be nervous. I understand my son. I love him to pieces, but I know him, too. I know exactly how he is.” She looked down into her glass and took another small sip. “He’s a good man. It’s been hard, but he takes care of me —”

  “Ms. Gentry,” Kyle interrupted. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. We have a strictly professional relationship.” She looked up at his mother’s skeptical expression and continued. “But I know that Jed is a good man. Even for all his . . . uh, quirks? And I enjoy working there with all of them just fine,” she finished with what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

  The older woman seemed to accept this. “Well, good. Because after what that little bitch Kierstan did to him and all the heartache with my husband dying last year, I just want people to see my Jedediah for the man he really is.” She caught Kyle’s eyes and held them. “And he is an exceptional man.”

  Kyle smiled down into her drink, trying to be polite. She wasn’t sure exceptional was the word she’d use to describe Jed.

  Kyle had learned to backup all of Michael’s accounting files onto separate drives that she kept at her house or hidden in strategic places so that he couldn’t “accidentally” erase them. She also called them clever names other than ‘accounts.’ She was learning to work around him because if she didn’t know better, it seemed like he was intentionally sabotaging her work. But why? It was only costing him more money.

  Now, as she sat hunched over the latest batch of receipts and logs that she’d brought home with her, she was sure of his handiwork. It was all askew. Dates were wrong. Amounts recorded in the wrong place. Some were missing or duplicated. It was a complete and utter mess.

  “Michael!” she said out loud, even though he wasn’t there to hear her.

  She settled back with her tea, glad she was able to wear sweats today, and studied the muddle before her.

  These last couple weeks, he’d begun insisting that she do nearly all of her work at the studio, but today she’d put her foot down. She’d explained to him over and over that she was not his personal accountant. They had a business relationship and she could come and go as she chose because this is a free country and she had other clients (he didn’t have to know otherwise.) But, invariably, he’d come up with lame excuses about things he’d forgotten to give her and he’d give her his trademark puppy eyes. Then he’d buy her dinner. Then the mess before her would stretch the time into the late hours. Then, mysteriously, he’d always have somewhere to go, leaving her with Jed.

  She sighed. It was annoying, but it was fine since she’d made up her mind come Hell or high water she was going to make this business of hers stick. She had something to prove to the world, but most of all to herself. And, as for being stuck with Jed half the time, that didn’t matter because they pretty much ignored each other anyway. Well, he ignored her. She pretended to ignore him while studying every move of his muscles beneath his shirt while he tattooed his customers. Or the way his mouth moved when he concentrated, especially that black ball beneath his lip. Man, that black ball was becoming an aphrodisiac.

  Snapping back to the present and away from all forms of sexual hot buttons, Kyle focused once again on the mess of paperwork in front of her, a la Michael. She was really going to have to talk to him about this tomorrow because he needed to get better organized or give her a raise. Better yet, get another accountant. Or two. Or fourteen.

  She finally gave up and tucked all her papers back into their respective files and into her briefcase to await the next day and fresh eyes. She showered, trying to wipe all thoughts of Jed from her mind and replace them with the man she should be thinking about. The man she was going to marry and be sharing her body with for the rest of her life.

  She dried off, moisturized her face, and slid on her most comfortable nightgown. As she settled into bed for the night, she realized that Charles no longer held any sexual interest for her whatsoever. It was a dry well there. Instead, all she could think about, all her body wanted to know, was if kissing a tattooed man was any different, and would she ever get to find out?

  Chapter 6

  Business had never been better at Jed’s. He should’ve been happy. Instead, he wanted to throw his hands up in disgust as the bell tinkled, letting them know another customer had walked in the door. He looked up from his work on his customer’s deltoid and ground his teeth. One glimpse of the pampered princess on the suit’s arm and he knew the words before they were out of her mouth.

  The bleach blonde glanced around nervously and they made their way up to Kierstan at the counter. “Um, hello. We were looking for The Angel?” She smiled up at her sugar daddy. “I want to get an angel tattoo.” She gave a small nervous giggle. “And he’s going to get my face tattooed on his chest.” She leaned in. “Not too big, you know. Classy.”

  Kierstan nodded her understanding. “Of course. Have a seat. The Angel is just finishing up with another customer. He’ll be right with you.”

  The couple sat down and Kierstan turned around to roll her eyes. These two didn’t fit the mold of their typical clients. They were obviously trying to be ‘trendy.’

  Jed turned back to his client, Salvatore. Sal was Papa Turoni’s other child, and he came in regularly to add to his collection of tats. Luckily, he had plenty of body mass to add to, giving Jed plenty of canvas to work with. He’d always been loyal to Jed as his tattoo artist, but he’d even had Michael ink on a portrait of his wife to his bicep. His rather unique looking wife.

  All in all, Jed decided, it was ridiculous. Michael had been bringing in more work than he could accept. How could one tattoo artist be making such a name for himself in such a short time? Jed was starting to worry he’d find greener pastures and leave him high and dry and looking for another artist. Ag
ain.

  A laugh drew his eyes to the source of his thoughts. Michael had finished with his last client and was sterilizing his equipment. Kyle was bent over laughing at whatever Michael had said. The woman was driving him crazy. She hung around the place every night, filling the place with her scent. He couldn’t get away from her. He tried to ignore her, but she was always there. And why she thought it necessary to work in a tattoo studio in business clothes and heels with her pearls and glasses was beyond him. But she must’ve come from a workout today, because she was dressed way down in tight yoga pants and a form-fitting Texas A & M T-shirt (had to admire her guts in this town) with her hair loose and free about her shoulders. The effect was devastating and he felt it clear down to his groin.

  Maybe it would be better if Michael moved on. Because where Michael was, Muffet was. And he had no business ogling her ass in those pants.

  He turned his attention back to his work, trying to tune out Michael and Kyle’s soft laughter across the room and concentrate on the skull and waving banner that was taking shape with the ebb and flow of his shadowing. “So, how’s your dad and sister?”

  “They’re good, man,” Sal glanced up from watching Jed work and their eyes met over the tattoo gun. “Gabby finally told the old man . . . you know . . . she’s, uh, well . . .”

  Jed nodded and got back to it. “Yeah, I know. How’d he take it?”

  Sal seemed relieved to not have to say it out loud. “Ah, well, not so good. I think he’s hoping it’s just a phase. They’re not speaking right now.”

  Jed shook his head. Poor Papa. Heck, poor Gabby.

  Neither one of them said anything more. Soon, the rhythm of his hand and the buzz of his needle lulled him as it always did and his mind went blessedly quiet. In the far recesses he was able to work out the intricacies of another design he’d been tinkering with for a tribal sleeve that had been a special request from a well-known musician on Austin’s music scene. He would sit and sketch it as soon as he was done here.