“This week. Then in a few weeks I have Grant and Leah’s engagement party to go to.” She put her feet on the coffee table. “God, I just realized Yates will be there. That was so dumb. I should have just met him there and then decided if I wanted to go out with him. Now I’m going to spend the whole time avoiding him.”
Sully had started to cry and root around for Savannah to feed him, so she eased up her sweater and unhooked her bra. We’d had a couple of discussions about the etiquette of nursing. She’d been trying to hide herself, using a blanket or leaving the room. I had told her there was absolutely zero reason to do that in her own home. That I respected and understood she was doing the most natural thing on earth—feeding her child.
I meant that. One hundred percent.
That didn’t mean that seeing her bare flesh didn’t make my mouth dry. Because it did. But I was glad that after only a couple of weeks she felt comfortable enough around me to be at ease with it. Of course, on the flip side, it also meant she had me solidly in the friend zone.
Being Mr. Nice Fucking Guy was backfiring on me and I hated it. I was starting to think I would be better off getting her so hot and turned on, that she begged me to fuck her.
That sounded way more fun than listening to her talk about other guys.
But I was still enjoying being around Savannah, hanging out with her, getting to know her better as an adult, so I needed to calm down and be a little patient. My cock didn’t agree.
“It’s going to be a big engagement party, right?” I asked. “There will be a few hundred people there. You can avoid the ass— I mean, him.”
“I just am annoyed that I have to spend the whole time thinking about him instead of having fun and celebrating Leah and Grant’s happiness.”
Jana and I had already talked about the impending engagement party. She’d wanted me to make a play to go with Savannah as her plus-one but I’d said that wasn’t going to fly since I hadn’t met any of her friends yet and I was needed to stay at home with Sullivan. But now… maybe I had an in.
“Want me to go with you? Show this guy someone finds you totally hot. It will annoy him you have another date so soon.”
Savannah eyed me. “God, that’s actually really tempting.”
“Then let’s do it.”
“Why would you want to go to a party with people you don’t know?” she asked. “And have to pretend to think I’m hot.”
“I know you, that’s enough for me. You should be able to enjoy yourself without worrying about some guy with zero manners. And I don’t have to pretend you’re hot, because you are. Hot.” I studied her, wanting to bury my hand in her hair and pull her to me. “I don’t need a watch to tell me that you’re gorgeous.”
She bit her bottom lip, teeth sinking in that delightful flesh as she turned to me. “You don’t have to say that. Or take me to the party.”
“I don’t say anything I don’t mean. Just like I don’t have to tell you you’re gorgeous and I don’t have to go to an engagement party. I want to do both.”
She patted my knee in a way that was so friendly and non-sexual it was frustrating. “You’re very sweet. It would be fun to show Yates I’m not sitting around at home in need of a date. I think he thought he was doing me some sort of favor. I’d need to find a sitter for Sully. I have used a woman a few times in the past that was good. One of my co-workers recommended her.”
“Give her a call and see if she’s free.” I stood up to check on her pizza before I showed her how my thoughts were the exact opposite of sweet. “Want me to grab your phone?”
“Sure. It’s in my purse.”
I brought her the purse she’d tossed down by the front door and left it beside her. I went into the kitchen and pulled out the pizza. I was a guy who liked to eat healthy but cauliflower just can’t be pizza. It’s too far of a reach. “You know,” I said to her from the kitchen. “If a crap vegetable like cauliflower can reinvent itself as pizza, anything is possible. It’s the ultimate dreams-are-possible food. It’s very inspirational, though gross.”
She laughed. “I like cauliflower! In all its forms.”
“It smells like socks when you cook it.” I set the pizza on the top of the stove and didn’t think it looked very appealing. It looked pale and limp. “But I guess everyone has different tastes.” As I dug through the drawers to see if she had a pizza cutter, because it seemed like if anyone would have one, Savannah would, I heard her greeting someone on the phone.
It sounded like she had called the babysitter.
I had nothing to wear to an engagement party, but I could sort that out. I wanted to go with her. I wanted to meet Yates Caldwell and have a little talk with him about how to treat women. I wanted to help Savannah feel confident and sexy. I rooted around in the drawer, my own confidence growing. I refused to stay in the friend zone. Or if I was in the friend zone, it was going to be a friend who had all the benefits of being able to touch her body.
Victory. She did have a pizza cutter. I cut her a slice and put it on a plate with a paper napkin. I brought it out and set it on the coffee table. I sat back down on the couch and waited for her to end her call.
“Ida can watch Sully.” She lifted him up and pulled her shirt down. She put him over her shoulder and gently burped him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Sure, why not? It will be fun.” I played it casual. Then I reached out. “Now give me the kid and eat your cardboard covered in cheese.”
“Hater.” She passed Sully to me. “Did you eat something besides that sandwich?”
“I have to admit, I had a burrito delivered. The sandwich wasn’t enough. But eating a burrito was stupid, because I haven’t been working out as much as I’d like because of the show. I think I need to get up earlier and go to the gym before going to the shop.” I slapped my gut. I swear, it felt like it was softening. “I don’t want to get doughy.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think that is going to happen in a few weeks. You’re a rock. A complete rock. Granite.”
That didn’t suck to hear. “I want it to stay that way.”
“How is the show going?” she asked, lifting her plate up to her chest.
I settled Sully into my lap. He wiggled his legs. I had to admit, I was falling for the little guy. He was one of the best babies I’d ever been around. Chill. Master of the spit bubble. Squealer enthusiast. He was becoming my little buddy.
“You know, it’s kind of entertaining. I thought I would hate the scene setups and all that, but it’s not bad. I’ve managed to stay out of the drama too.”
“What drama is there?”
“Jana and Stella hate each other. It’s like some weird random hate the second they laid eyes on each other. And Stella is hooking up with Samuel, which is not going to end well. He’s just this guy having fun, charming as hell, and he thinks she’s on the same page as him. But I’m convinced Jana was right in that Stella is not necessarily upfront with people. I think Stella will turn out to be more than Samuel bargained for.” I didn’t want to leap to any conclusions and assume she had stalker-girl potential, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it went there. “And I cannot believe all of that just came out of my mouth. I may be spending too much time with Jana, Jesus. I sounded like a teenage girl.”
Savannah laughed. “That was a little gossipy. Hooking up at work is always a bad idea. Both Samuel and Stella need to be careful. You and Jana seem close, by the way.” She bit her pizza kind of viciously.
It seemed like I heard some jealousy there. She didn’t know Jana’s sexual orientation because it hadn’t been relevant to any conversation I’d been having about her. Mostly I’d been talking about tattooing, not anyone at the shop’s personal life. This was the first time I’d really dwelled into who was doing what. Let Savannah think what she wanted. Maybe it would be a good thing if she thought I had another woman interested in me. “Yeah, she’s cool. We get along really well.”
“Hmm,” she said, not looking at me.
She swallowed. “You’ve been spending a lot of time together.”
We had. Jana and I had gone out for drinks a couple of times when Savannah didn’t need me to watch Sully. Jana’s upbeat attitude made her easy to be around. Plus, she loved to plot ridiculous scenarios of how I was going to win over Savannah and live happily ever after. In that respect, she and Savannah were actually similar in personalities. It was no wonder I liked being around her. I dug that sweet, generous, optimism.
“Yep.”
My generic answers were driving Savannah crazy, I could tell.
“Maddy!” she said, sounding exasperated.
She only used my old nickname when she was annoyed with me or being super sentimental. It was obvious why she was using it now. She was totally jealous. I had to hide my grin. “What?”
“Are you and Jana, you know? Is she going to be upset if you go to this party with me next Friday?”
“Why would she be upset?” I asked, messing with her.
She threw her crust down on her plate. “You’re being obtuse on purpose.”
I laughed. I couldn’t keep up the pretense. “She’s not going to be upset. We’re not, you know, as you so clearly put it. We’re friends. Like you and me.” It was a purposeful poke.
Her mouth opened, like she was going to say something. Then she clamped her lips together quickly.
When she continued to stay silent, I said, “Do you want me to be with Jana?”
She crumpled her napkin and tossed it in the direction of her plate. It rolled off and ended up on the floor. She ignored it. “If you want to be with Jana, be with Jana, obviously. She seems sweet.”
“Do you think she’s my type?”
I thought she would actually deny that she knew what my type was, but she nodded. “Yes, I do. She seems sweet and funny, and from what you’ve told me, she dislikes dishonesty and games. So that would be your type.”
“True. But unlike Yates, your date from hell, I know when I’m attracted to someone and I don’t have those feelings for Jana. She doesn’t have them for me either. We’re platonic friends.”
She looked like she didn’t quite believe me.
“Oh, and she’s gay.”
Her jaw dropped and she smacked my thigh. “You’re ridiculous. You could have just said that in the first place.”
“This was way more fun,” I assured her. “And why did it matter to you so much anyway? You were very curious, Savannah.”
Her cheeks turned pink. It was hard to hide a blush when you were a redhead. “What do you mean?”
That was a clear avoidance tactic. “You just seemed very interested in whether or not I was dating Jana.”
“I just want you to be happy here.”
Savannah was a terrible liar. She couldn’t make eye contact and she picked at imaginary lint on her dress.
I put my hand over top of hers and stroked her skin with my thumb. “I’m very happy here.”
Her head snapped up and her gaze met mine.
I leaned forward, wondering how she would react if I kissed her. I didn’t think she’d stop me.
Almost imperceptibly, she leaned toward me.
Then Sullivan took a face dive. I snagged him before he toppled off my lap onto the floor.
“Oh, geez,” she said. “That was close.”
Yeah. It was.
Chapter 6
“Come outside with me,” Jana said, holding her vape up. “I hate standing out in that alley by myself. It’s like a crime waiting to happen.”
“I have a client in ten minutes,” I told her. “So I’ve got about five minutes, that’s it.”
“Fine, I’ll suck fast.”
“Someone is very friendly with Maddox,” Stella commented as she walked past, wearing red high heels and shorts. For some reason, the fact that she wore heels to tattoo really pissed Jana off. “You two are always together. But you should hold out for better than giving out back-alley action, Jana.”
“Don’t be nasty,” Jana said, shoving open the back door of the shop. “You know I don’t suck dick.”
“You’re very crass,” Stella said, sneering back at Jana.
Jana flipped her off.
The cameraman came with us, which didn’t surprise me. The producer loved the tension between Jana and Stella. “Why is she such a bitch?” Jana seethed, putting her vape to her mouth and drawing in. “Someone is very friendly with Maddox,” she mocked, using a terrible impression of Stella’s Southern accent.
“Why do you let her get to you?” I asked, not out of judgment, but trying to understand.
“Because my whole life girls like her have been trash-talking me, and I’m sick of it. She has exactly zero reason to be a bitch, yet it’s like she spends her days looking for ways to make other people feel bad about themselves.”
“Maybe she has a past we don’t know anything about. Maybe she’s insecure.” I didn’t actually believe that, but I was trying to give the girl the benefit of the doubt. We’d only known her for a couple of weeks, and for all I knew, she’d been told by producers this was her role.
Jana snorted. “And maybe I’m in contention to play pro basketball.”
“Let’s assume, then, she is just a bitch who likes to make people miserable. You have to find a way to tolerate her. Otherwise, you’ll lose your job and she’ll win. Because filming or not, you can’t be acting crazy in front of clients. People like that somehow always find a way to come out on top. I wouldn’t count on it going in my favor if I were you.”
She sucked on her vape, a plume of smoke rising in front of her face. “You’re very pragmatic. I’m not sure if I love that about you or hate that.”
I frowned. “I’m not sure I would call myself pragmatic.” That sounded fucking boring.
“It’s true. You’re like a ‘this is the way it is, so deal’ kind of guy.”
I leaned against the brick wall and stuck my foot against it. “I was raised by a teen single mom. That was the story of my childhood—deal.”
“How old was your mom when she had you?”
“Fifteen.” I was well aware the cameraman was filming, but I was proud of my mother. She’d worked her ass off.
Her eyes widened. “Oh, damn. That’s young.”
“Yep. She worked hard to provide for me, but we were broke, and she was gone a lot. So yeah, maybe I am pragmatic. But why does that sound like such an insult?” Women weren’t going to be all hot for the guy who was pragmatic.
“It’s not an insult. But right now, I just wanted to vent and rant and you wanted to problem solve. You’re not a dude who sees the value in a grand gesture.” She pointed her finger at me. “WWRRD, remember?”
I rolled my eyes. I was annoyed. I’m sure Ryan Reynolds was a great guy, but he played roles in movies. You know. Not real. They were lines in a script.
“What does that mean?” the cameraman asked. “Can you elaborate?”
“It means nothing,” I said, opening the back door. “And no. I can’t elaborate. I’m going back to work. I have a client.”
I was doing a mountain scene landscape back piece and I was excited to get started on it. I held my hand out to the guy waiting for me and introduced myself. I welcomed the distraction from the conversation that had seemed to irrationally pissed me off.
Being a tattoo artist gave me a clear medium for my art and it had been a natural progression for me from comic book art I’d dabbled in during middle school and high school. It also had one big advantage over comics—I got to meet interesting people. Some people didn’t want to talk, they were concentrating on dealing with the pain. But others wanted to talk through it and I was always up for that.
Even in a town that wasn’t huge, I’d met people from all walks of life, with cool stories to tell. The meaning behind a person’s ink always fascinated me. Some humbled me. Others had touched me in ways I couldn’t have predicted, like a mother who wanted her child’s footprint tatted on her own foot after the baby had passed away.
In that case in particular, I had been hugely honored that she had trusted an artist as young as me to do something so important, but she’d loved my portfolio. I had left after that appointment and driven straight to my parents’ house to hug the snot out of all my siblings.
Nope, I didn’t think of myself as a pragmatic guy. I actually thought I was kind of fucking sentimental.
But apparently unless you had a so-called grand gesture none of that shit mattered.
I wasn’t sold on hanging back and being Savannah’s nanny and honorary little brother and waiting for something to change.
If you want your situation to change, you do something about it.
I lifted the tattoo machine and asked the guy sitting on a chair with his back to me, “You ready for this?”
“Let’s fucking do it,” he said.
“Words to live by, man.”
I’d gone for a more casual look with Dakota’s date choice for me. I was wearing wide-leg jeans, boots with a heel, and a tight off-the-shoulder sweater in a rust color that I hoped complemented my hair. I was wearing a jeweled headband to elevate the outfit slightly since this was a late-night date. To me, meeting a stranger for the first time at a club at eleven o’clock at night seemed a little odd, but Jackson Martin was a DJ. A celebrity DJ, whose day usually started at noon and ended at 4 a.m., so I had agreed to be flexible on when to meet up.
Yet at the same time, all I could think as I checked my lipstick in the mirror by the front door of my apartment was that I’d give anything to be sitting on the couch with Maddox and Sully right now. Maddox was lying down and Sully sitting on his chest.
“Hey, get your finger out of my nose,” Maddox said, pulling Sully’s hand back and giving his arms a little up and down motion. “That’s nasty,” he said in a teasing voice. “Yuck, yuck, yuckity yuck.”
Which each yuck, he punctuated it by bouncing Sully up and down so that by the end, my son was laughing, that hearty belly baby laugh that warms your heart to the core.
It was stinking adorable. Just absolutely everything.
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