SIN FOR YOU: ROCKTOWN INK, BOOK TWO

by Gray, Sherilee

  I frowned. “No…hang on—”

  “Need you to help with cleanup. Nancy called in sick.”

  Nancy cleaned the bar in the mornings, the floors and bathrooms mainly. If she was sick, we’d all have to pitch in and do it tonight.

  “Oh.” I turned back to Ezra.

  “What about tomorrow night?” he said.

  “She’s busy then, too,” Bull cut in.

  I spun back to him. “What?”

  “Nancy,” he muttered by way of an explanation.

  She must be really sick if she’s off all weekend. Crap. I turned back to Ezra again, actually disappointed. I kind of liked the idea of having a drink with him. Yes, my last relationship had cut me in ways I was still recovering from months later, that I didn’t think I’d ever recover from, but then I wasn’t looking for another relationship.

  A girl went off the concept when she’d been cheated on four times by four different guys. It had to be some kind of record.

  The last time was by a man I thought I was going to marry. The tan line from wearing his engagement ring was still visible on my finger. I was a failure at love, and I’d accepted that. I didn’t want it, not anymore. It hurt too much.

  Ezra had been coming here regularly since I came back. Which meant he wasn’t some complete stranger. And it wasn’t like Bull was ever going to make a move. I wasn’t sure he even saw me as a woman. I might not want a relationship, but I wasn’t planning on living like a nun either. I liked human contact, craved it. I liked to touch and be touched. I loved sex—even if I obviously sucked at it. I’d been cheated on four times; that was proof enough in my book. But why not have some fun with Ezra? No one expected fireworks with a one-night stand, right? Honestly, I had no idea. I’d never had one. But I was willing to give it a shot. “I’m sorry…maybe we could—”

  “Still got customers,” Bull said to me, interrupting again.

  “Right.” I frowned at him. Man, he was grouchy tonight. I turned back to Ezra.

  “Another time?” he said before I could say anything.

  “I’d like that—”

  “Tables to clear, Quinn,” Bull ground out.

  Oh my God. What was his problem?

  Somehow I managed to scream that in my head and not directly at him, which was a good thing going by the surly expression on his face. I offered Ezra an apologetic smile and got back to work.

  If I hadn’t known Bull so well, I’d have thought he was jealous. I snorted. But that was an impossibility. Bull saw me as a responsibility, one he took extremely seriously. And unfortunately, he knew how my last relationship had ended. Had seen the shell I was when I came home.

  He thought he was protecting me, like all good big brothers should. Nothing more.

  I sighed. It sucked, but I’d never fooled myself where Bull was concerned.

  Finally, the bar cleared out, and the other waitresses and I finished collecting the empties.

  When we were done, I grabbed my stuff, but Bull wasn’t in his office when I went to say good night. I assumed he was down in the cellar or busy with something else, so I headed out, wincing when my boots sunk into snow, a lot more than I’d anticipated.

  In fact, it was still snowing. Shit.

  Then I noticed some of the small parking lot back here had been shoveled clear.

  I looked over at Old Blue, expecting it to be covered in snow.

  It wasn’t.

  Bull was there and he’d just finished putting chains on my tires—obviously taking advantage of the spare car key I’d asked him to hold on to for me, since I had an extremely bad history with keys. As in, I lost a lot. A lump formed in my throat at his kindness.

  I headed over. “You didn’t need to do that.”

  He glanced up and shrugged.

  I crossed my arms. “I wish Mase hadn’t told you to look out for me,” I said, surprising us both.

  He stilled, those heavy brows of his dropping like they often did around me.

  “You must be sick to death of me, of”—I motioned to the car, trying to explain—“all of this. You really don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  “Just chains, Quinn.”

  “Right, yeah.” I bit my lip, that lump in my throat getting bigger. “Well, thanks. I appreciate it.” I opened the driver’s door. “See you tomorrow.”

  He grunted and walked away, though I noticed he hovered in the doorway of the bar until I’d climbed in the car, started it, and headed out. He did that kind of thing all the time as well. Making sure I was safe.

  The streets were quiet as I drove toward my now empty childhood home and another sleepless night. I hadn’t slept properly since Bevan did what he had.

  Mason had moved to Portland, Oregon, to be closer to Janie after they’d met in college and start his career as a police officer. I’d moved there as well because I knew my dad didn’t want to be here in Rocktown anymore, that he only stayed because of me.

  He said there was nothing here for him anymore and followed us like I knew he would. He’d kept the house here, though, and it had been waiting like a warm familiar blanket to surround me when I needed to escape the city after Bevan screwed me over.

  I turned a corner.

  Hot air hit my face. What the hell?

  I held my hand up. Yep, definitely hot air.

  My heater was working.

  I bit my lip.

  Bull had fixed it.

  God, he was always doing stuff like that. Quietly making life easier for me without fanfare or expecting thanks. Expecting anything. He was always just there when I needed him. Fixing things, making sure I had what I needed. Even while I was working tonight. He’d moved things—I grinned to myself—and, in one case, a person out of my way with a grunt or a growl, then he’d carried on. Like I was always in his peripheral vision. Like he was always looking for ways to take care of me.

  I loved it and hated it all at the same time.

  A couple of months ago, a guy got a little too touchy-feely at the bar, and Bull threw him out, literally. It was the first time I’d ever heard him raise his voice.

  He watched over me, protected me. I should probably have told him to back off, if only for my own well-being. I didn’t need to grow more attached to him. But for some reason I hadn’t.

  “Shit.” I suddenly remembered I hadn’t stayed to help cover for Nancy.

  Huh. But then neither had any of the other waitresses, and Bull hadn’t mentioned it again before we left.

  Surely, he hadn’t…

  Had he actually lied about Nancy being sick to stop me from having a drink with Ezra?

  No.

  Surely not.

  Well, shit.

  Chapter Two

  Bull

  I poured the guy in front of me a drink and slammed it on the bar with probably more force than was necessary, one eye on what I was doing, the other on Quinn. That little fucker Ezra was talking to her again. I’d hoped he’d gotten the hint last night. Yes, I’d lied about needing help with the cleaning to screw up their plans. And I felt not one shred of guilt about it. No way was he getting anywhere near Quinn.

  I cursed under my breath.

  This was exactly why I hadn’t wanted her here. She was a beautiful girl…probably one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever seen. I glanced over at her again. She was smiling wide at the grinning prick in front of her.

  Definitely the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.

  Which meant having her here made the job I’d been given of looking after her a whole fuck of a lot harder. The woman had been giving me an ulcer since she came home.

  Thanks, Mase, you prick.

  I already had Dane to wind me up. My younger cousin had been raising hell for as long as I could remember and didn’t appear to be slowing down. Cal, his older brother, and I had been trying to keep the kid from hitting self-destruct since he got out of foster care and came home to us.

  I’d already had my hands full before Quinn r
olled back into town for her “extended working vacation.” Whatever the hell that was.

  I didn’t need this shit as well.

  The door opened, and as if the devil himself had summoned them, Cal and Dane walked in with Cal’s woman, Cassy, at his side.

  Cal and Cassy couldn’t have been more different. She was all class, the daughter of a wealthy rancher—well, until the fucker lost all his money and tried to marry her off to the first asshole willing to pay off his debts. Our families had history, had been enemies until she’d walked into Rocktown Ink, Cal’s tattoo shop across the street, not knowing who she was asking to work on her, and won Cal over. My scarred, angry cousin had melted for her, and they hadn’t looked back.

  As they walked over, I poured three beers and put them on the bar. “Done for the night?”

  “Yeah.” Cal took a sip of his beer. “Thank fuck. Been busy all week.”

  Dane worked there as well doing piercings and apprenticing as a tattoo artist. Cal and I had both trained under the previous owner, Harvey, a father figure to us both and the reason I was able to buy this place and had a lot more money in the bank. Harvey had come from money, had no kids, no family, and to our utter shock, had left it all to Cal and me.

  I’d worked there for a lot of years myself until I bought the bar. Still did occasionally for my old clients and when Cal needed a hand.

  “The place is poppin’,” Dane said when he reached me, scanning the room before his gaze found and lingered on Quinn, not for the first time.

  Nope. No fucking way. I swatted the back of his head.

  “What the hell?” he said, rubbing his dome and scowling.

  I shook my head. “Anyone else. Not her.”

  Cassy elbowed Cal, and he chuckled, which I chose to ignore.

  Dane planted his hands on the bar. “Why not Quinn?”

  “Why not me, what?” Quinn said before rattling off her order to me.

  I started filling it, ignoring her question.

  Dane, of course, did not. “Bull says I can look but not touch.”

  “Didn’t say you could look, fuckface,” I growled.

  Quinn frowned. “What am I missing?”

  Dane smirked. “I was just scoping out the talent, and…yeah, I was checking you out, ’cause, sorry, but you have a fine ass—”

  Cal swatted the back of Dane’s head for me.

  Quinn blinked up at Dane, stunned into silence, then she threw her head back and laughed. She had a great laugh. I scowled as several assholes in her vicinity noticed as well.

  When she finally got over her chuckles, she said, “I mean, you’re kind of a pig, but I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

  Dane grinned. “You are correct, I am, and please do. That was how it was intended.” Dane motioned to me. “Bull warned me away. No touchy his best friend’s little sister.”

  Quinn turned to me and she was frowning. “Really, Bull? Don’t you think who touches me is my decision?”

  “You saying you’re interested?” Dane cut in, looking far too fucking happy.

  Quinn glanced at him. “God, no.”

  Cal burst out laughing, and Cassy slapped his arm but was biting back her own smile. And yeah, I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face either.

  Quinn looked back at me. “But my lack of interest in Dane is not the point.”

  “My feelings are getting hurt over here,” Dane said.

  “I’m totally not into younger guys,” Quinn said, barely sparing him a glance.

  “The story of my life,” Dane said, turning his puppy-dog eyes to Cassy.

  She chuckled, and Cal shoved him.

  Quinn’s eyes narrowed on me. “Oh my God! I knew it. You totally lied about Nancy being sick, didn’t you? Just so I couldn’t have a drink with Ezra.”

  “Who’s Ezra?” Dane asked.

  Quinn aimed her thumb over her shoulder at the band. “Drummer.”

  “Fucking musicians,” Dane muttered. “What’s the appeal? I don’t get it,” he said to Cassy.

  She giggled, and Cal shot her a disgruntled look. “No idea. I mean, all the tattoos and talent and passion…ew, right?” she said.

  “Bull?” Quinn said between clenched teeth, forcing me to look at her again. “Did you lie about Nancy?”

  “The guy’s a fucking player,” I said.

  “That’s your defense? You can’t do that,” she said, eyes going all wide and fiery. “Are you even listening to me?”

  I grunted and loaded her tray.

  “I’ll take that as a Yes, I’m listening to you, Quinn. And no, I won’t pull shit like that again or warn off guys on your behalf anymore.” She gave me a tight smile. “Glad we could have this talk.”

  She could take it any way she liked. It wasn’t going to change one damn thing. After the way the last asshole fucked her over, I wasn’t letting any of these motherfuckers near her. I mean, I loved Dane, would do anything for him. He and Cal were like my brothers—hell, our bond was tighter than most siblings’ after being raised by our grandmother together, after going through some seriously hard shit together—but the kid was a player as well.

  He also had a lot of shit to work through after what happened to him, being torn from us when he was twelve and put in the system, and Quinn didn’t need that. She had her own stuff to deal with.

  Good thing she wasn’t interested. Made my job a whole hell of a lot easier.

  I watched as she weaved her way through the bar to deliver her drinks, and scowled as the drummer douchebag in question rushed to her to get his drink. The fucker put his hand on her hip, and Quinn let him. A growl ripped from me before I could stop it. I didn’t like that, seeing his hand on her, not one bit. He was exactly the kind of guy she needed to stay away from.

  Thankfully, the band needed to start their next set, so the dickwad had to let her go. My fist clenched at my side. Good thing, too.

  “So, Bull,” Dane said. “You do realize you just made a sound like a demented grizzly, right?”

  Awesome. I’d forgotten I still had an audience. “Shut it.”

  “Lifted the hair on the back of my neck,” he went on. “You need to see a doctor about that shit. That’s just not normal.” Then he just looked at me in that fucking odd way of his, that twisted little twinkle in his eyes.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I said to him, because sometimes I truly wondered.

  “Numerous things, Bull. Numerous things. So you gonna fuck her or what?”

  I stiffened.

  “Jesus Christ, Dane. You’re about as subtle…as a wrecking ball,” Cal said, stumbling over his words a little. After an accident with Cassy’s brother, resulting in the guy’s death and Cal suffering a traumatic brain injury, he’d had to learn to talk again. He still had trouble from time to time.

  Dane shrugged.

  I looked between them, and even Cassy wouldn’t meet my eyes. Is that what they thought? What they all thought? That I wanted Quinn for myself? I barely held down another growl. “Watching out for her, that’s all.”

  “Oh suuuure,” Dane said, that twinkle back in his eyes. “You just growled at some guy for touching her, like full-on, from-the-back-of-the-throat, possessed-by-demons shit.”

  “It’s not like that. Made a promise to Mase, that’s all.”

  “And the look on your face,” Dane said, ignoring me completely. “I thought your head was gonna start spinning on your neck.”

  “You’re wrong,” I said, wiping down the bar in front of me. “Now fuck off. People are waiting for drinks.”

  Dane shrugged again and headed toward a group of girls, and Cassy grabbed Cal’s hand and tugged him toward the dance floor. He looked less than thrilled. I would have laughed if I wasn’t still pissed about what Dane had said. Or that it was obvious Cal was full of shit. The look on his face when he pulled Cassy close, moving slowly with her, ignoring the fast beat, said he didn’t mind being out there with her one bit.

  But they
were wrong about me. I was only looking out for Quinn, protecting her. That’s all. She just brought out that side of me. She was young, on her own. Had recently come out of an awful relationship. And she was my best friend’s baby sister, for fuck’s sake. That’s all there was to it.

  And even if I wasn’t her brother’s best friend, or there wasn’t a six-year age difference, the girl wouldn’t be interested in a guy like me—Quinn could do a hell of a lot better than an emotionally stunted ex-con who preferred his own company. I was exactly the kind of guy I didn’t want anywhere near her. The kind of guy who would hurt her in the end because they were just that fucked up.

  I glanced over at her. She was clearing empties from a table, and I watched as she threw her head back, laughing at something someone said.

  I growled again.

  Then quickly looked away.

  Christ, I did sound like a demented grizzly.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Shaking the bullshit out of my head, I asked the person in front of me what they wanted. Going by their flinch, it was more a bark.

  Whatever.

  I put my head down and got busy pouring drinks.

  And did not glance in Quinn’s direction again that night. Not once.

  * * *

  Quinn

  “Hey, babe.”

  I turned around because the babe was obviously directed at me, considering I was the only person in the vicinity. It was one thirty in the morning, the bar had cleared out, and I was cashing up, more than ready to leave for the night.

  Ezra had slipped behind the huge rustic bar Bull had built and installed when he bought the place, and was closing in. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy, and he was swaying a little. When he got closer it was easy to see the guy wasn’t just drunk.

  Not hot. So not hot.

  “Why don’t we skip the drink and get straight to the good part?” he said, an obvious slur to his voice.

  His hands had bracketed me, trapping me. “Not sure that’s a good idea,” I said, trying to keep things light. “Can you back up?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think you really want that.”

  I pressed my hands to his chest to keep him back. He was strong and didn’t budge. “Back up. Now.”