chest.
An image of a tattoo climbing along her spine took shape in
Scott’s mind, and he hoped she came to the shop again. He wanted to get his
hands on her for quite a few different reasons.
Scott stared at Kyle, wondering how long it was going to be
before he accepted he already loved her. Over the last week of them talking
Kyle hadn’t admitted his true feelings. He only acknowledged she was the one
woman he’d wanted to sleep with. It would have been much easier if he could
simply order Kyle to admit it, but when it came to love the lines of submission
and domination were forever blurred.
Chapter Seven
She showed up.
Scott knew she would eventually, but he was still shocked
when his heart surged against his ribs as she walked through the door.
Soon he was going to salivate whenever the chime on the shop
door went off. Pavlov had nothing on his reaction to this little blonde pixie.
Today she wore jeans and high-heeled boots, with a white
blouse and a brown sweater thing that flared behind her on each step. She also
had a black bag Mary Poppins would be proud of slung over her shoulder.
Damn, she was pretty.
It was always a combination of naughty and nice with her.
Girl next door meets Playboy Bunny. He swore she had no idea the naughty
resided beneath her skin. She challenged him to peel away the layers to expose
the goddess he knew lay underneath. Vulnerability and steel wasn’t a
combination he’d thought he would witness seamlessly woven together, but they
were synonymous with her.
It had been more than a couple days since either of them had
talked to her. He didn’t want to admit that he’d been nervous she wouldn’t show
up, but he was aware of the tightness in his chest easing at her mere presence
in the shop.
She spotted him at his tattoo station and he said, “I’m
finishing up. I’ll be ready for you in a sec.”
She grinned, walking over to see the smiling face of a
golden retriever staring at her from the right pec of the guy sitting in front
of Scott.
He added highlights in white, turning the photograph into what
he hoped was a 3-D work of art. The subtle shading, the sparkle in their eyes—if
that didn’t come out right the tat would never be perfect.
“What’s her name?” Haleigh asked as Scott set the gun aside.
He hosed the guy’s chest with a squeeze bottle, catching the excess with a wet
rag below his ink. He wiped it down one last time, checking to make sure the
likeness was perfect.
“Gretel. She was the best dog ever. I lost her a couple
months ago.” The guy answered with obvious sorrow, but undiluted fondness.
Haleigh bent over to take a closer look, studying the ink, which was just as
alive as the photo sitting on the tray alongside his gun.
“And you’ll get to see her every day, now, smiling back at
you in your reflection.”
The guy stood, hovering his fingertips over the ink. He
studied it in the full-length mirror by the front windows before pulling on a
button-up shirt. He settled it in place, letting it hang loose, showing off his
new memorial.
“Just like she did every day I had her.” He shook Scott’s
hand, “Stellar job, man. I appreciate you working me in on short notice.”
“Anytime, Max. Let me get you bandaged and you can get outta
here.”
“Excuse me? Umm, could I take a picture…before you leave? Of
the tattoo I mean.” Haleigh asked Max.
He smiled and said, “Sure.”
“Scott, is it okay?”
“As long as Max’s cool with it, it’s fine by me. Take your
time, I’ve gotta clean up anyways.” Scott yanked his gloves off, tossing stuff
in the trash. He cleaned his gun and gathered everything he needed to
re-sterilize in the autoclave.
The entire time he was aware of Haleigh. She moved Max
several times, like a woman moved furniture. She even snagged the photograph
from the table and took quite a few pictures from different angles with Max
holding it up next to his chest. For several, she stood on one of the chairs to
peer
An image of a tattoo climbing along her spine took shape in
Scott’s mind, and he hoped she came to the shop again. He wanted to get his
hands on her for quite a few different reasons.
Scott stared at Kyle, wondering how long it was going to be
before he accepted he already loved her. Over the last week of them talking
Kyle hadn’t admitted his true feelings. He only acknowledged she was the one
woman he’d wanted to sleep with. It would have been much easier if he could
simply order Kyle to admit it, but when it came to love the lines of submission
and domination were forever blurred.
Chapter Seven
She showed up.
Scott knew she would eventually, but he was still shocked
when his heart surged against his ribs as she walked through the door.
Soon he was going to salivate whenever the chime on the shop
door went off. Pavlov had nothing on his reaction to this little blonde pixie.
Today she wore jeans and high-heeled boots, with a white
blouse and a brown sweater thing that flared behind her on each step. She also
had a black bag Mary Poppins would be proud of slung over her shoulder.
Damn, she was pretty.
It was always a combination of naughty and nice with her.
Girl next door meets Playboy Bunny. He swore she had no idea the naughty
resided beneath her skin. She challenged him to peel away the layers to expose
the goddess he knew lay underneath. Vulnerability and steel wasn’t a
combination he’d thought he would witness seamlessly woven together, but they
were synonymous with her.
It had been more than a couple days since either of them had
talked to her. He didn’t want to admit that he’d been nervous she wouldn’t show
up, but he was aware of the tightness in his chest easing at her mere presence
in the shop.
She spotted him at his tattoo station and he said, “I’m
finishing up. I’ll be ready for you in a sec.”
She grinned, walking over to see the smiling face of a
golden retriever staring at her from the right pec of the guy sitting in front
of Scott.
He added highlights in white, turning the photograph into what
he hoped was a 3-D work of art. The subtle shading, the sparkle in their eyes—if
that didn’t come out right the tat would never be perfect.
“What’s her name?” Haleigh asked as Scott set the gun aside.
He hosed the guy’s chest with a squeeze bottle, catching the excess with a wet
rag below his ink. He wiped it down one last time, checking to make sure the
likeness was perfect.
“Gretel. She was the best dog ever. I lost her a couple
months ago.” The guy answered with obvious sorrow, but undiluted fondness.
Haleigh bent over to take a closer look, studying the ink, which was just as
alive as the photo sitting on the tray alongside his gun.
“And you’ll get to see her every day, now, smiling back at
you in your reflection.”
The guy stood, hovering his fingertips over the ink. He
studied it in the full-length mirror by the front windows before pulling on a
button-up shirt. He settled it in place, letting it hang loose, showing off his
new memorial.
“Just like she did every day I had her.” He shook Scott’s
hand, “Stellar job, man. I appreciate you working me in on short notice.”
“Anytime, Max. Let me get you bandaged and you can get outta
here.”
“Excuse me? Umm, could I take a picture…before you leave? Of
the tattoo I mean.” Haleigh asked Max.
He smiled and said, “Sure.”
“Scott, is it okay?”
“As long as Max’s cool with it, it’s fine by me. Take your
time, I’ve gotta clean up anyways.” Scott yanked his gloves off, tossing stuff
in the trash. He cleaned his gun and gathered everything he needed to
re-sterilize in the autoclave.
The entire time he was aware of Haleigh. She moved Max
several times, like a woman moved furniture. She even snagged the photograph
from the table and took quite a few pictures from different angles with Max
holding it up next to his chest. For several, she stood on one of the chairs to
peer
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