Chapter One
“You ready for me?”
Leni looked up at well over six feet of lean, muscled and tattooed man, bit the inside of her bottom lip and thought, More than you’ll ever know, buddy .
“You bet,” she answered, giving Jamie her sweetest smile as she sent the text she’d been writing to her sister, tucked her phone into her purse and stood.
“Are we still going with the rib cage?” he asked, leading her out of the tattoo shop’s busy waiting area and through the hall to his room at the back of the building. “It’s a tough spot for even the most seasoned aficionado. You think you can hang getting it there your first time out?”
She caught the small smirk on that beautiful mouth of his, the glint in his mossy-green eyes. He was fucking with her.
“You calling me a wimp?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
“All right.” He shook his head, his tone dripping skepticism. He stepped aside and swept his arm through the open door to his room, motioning for her to go first. “We’ll find out what you’re made of when it gets down to it. Are you all right with me locking the door so no one walks in on us?”
“Please do.” She nodded and felt the first shiver of nerves. Whether it was from the long hours she had ahead of her in the chair or being locked in a room with a man she’d started fantasizing about long before her love life went to hell, she couldn’t be sure.
Jamie Rodriguez was off limits. Way off limits.
Leni lived by the rule “you don’t do your ex’s friends or your friends’ exes”, and Jamie fell woefully into the category of the former. Which was a big, big shame. Just the sight of him made her feel all warm and gooey inside.
She loved the contrast of his purposely mussed black hair and olive skin with his deep-green eyes. More rugged than outright handsome, he had an edgy look that intimidated some people, and with good reason. He’d more than earned his reputation for being tough when the situation called for it, but he was also the kind of guy who’d do anything for the people he held closest to his heart.
On top of that, he had a warm, wide, readily available smile that was absolutely breathtaking. Factor in his tall, athletic frame, arms tattooed to the wrist on both sides—she had no idea how far they went under his shirt as she’d sadly never seen him without one—and the man was sex on two very long legs.
Since she didn’t “do” boyfriends, fiancés or husbands either, the fact that he had a longtime girlfriend helped to reinforce her willpower, but not by a whole lot.
She knew that crushing on rock-star types at almost thirty years old was just sad, especially after suffering so much humiliation at the hands of the last rock-star type she’d been involved with, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
“No sister to hold your hand?” he asked, moving around the tattoo chair standing at an angle in the middle of the compact room. He reached between his legs and centered his rolling stool under himself as he sat.
“Frankie came down with a cold, and Jo didn’t want to leave her,” she said, meaning her eight-month-old niece and twin sister, as she turned in a little circle and reacquainted herself with his room.
She liked Jamie’s space, with its dark blue walls and lush spider plants hanging in front of the small frosted-glass windows set high up on the wall. His black lacquered bookcases were filled with all sorts of odd statues, knickknacks and an amazing array of books that ranged from glossy picture books of all kinds to odd curiosities that were fun to flip through. The walls were covered in framed photographs of him with various celebrities he’d met and/or tattooed mixed with small paintings of his.
“Poor little critter.” He made a sympathetic face as he pulled on a pair of black nitrile gloves. “You sure you want to do this without her?”
It was Leni’s turn to get the matching trio of tiger lilies—one orange, one pink
“You ready for me?”
Leni looked up at well over six feet of lean, muscled and tattooed man, bit the inside of her bottom lip and thought, More than you’ll ever know, buddy .
“You bet,” she answered, giving Jamie her sweetest smile as she sent the text she’d been writing to her sister, tucked her phone into her purse and stood.
“Are we still going with the rib cage?” he asked, leading her out of the tattoo shop’s busy waiting area and through the hall to his room at the back of the building. “It’s a tough spot for even the most seasoned aficionado. You think you can hang getting it there your first time out?”
She caught the small smirk on that beautiful mouth of his, the glint in his mossy-green eyes. He was fucking with her.
“You calling me a wimp?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
“All right.” He shook his head, his tone dripping skepticism. He stepped aside and swept his arm through the open door to his room, motioning for her to go first. “We’ll find out what you’re made of when it gets down to it. Are you all right with me locking the door so no one walks in on us?”
“Please do.” She nodded and felt the first shiver of nerves. Whether it was from the long hours she had ahead of her in the chair or being locked in a room with a man she’d started fantasizing about long before her love life went to hell, she couldn’t be sure.
Jamie Rodriguez was off limits. Way off limits.
Leni lived by the rule “you don’t do your ex’s friends or your friends’ exes”, and Jamie fell woefully into the category of the former. Which was a big, big shame. Just the sight of him made her feel all warm and gooey inside.
She loved the contrast of his purposely mussed black hair and olive skin with his deep-green eyes. More rugged than outright handsome, he had an edgy look that intimidated some people, and with good reason. He’d more than earned his reputation for being tough when the situation called for it, but he was also the kind of guy who’d do anything for the people he held closest to his heart.
On top of that, he had a warm, wide, readily available smile that was absolutely breathtaking. Factor in his tall, athletic frame, arms tattooed to the wrist on both sides—she had no idea how far they went under his shirt as she’d sadly never seen him without one—and the man was sex on two very long legs.
Since she didn’t “do” boyfriends, fiancés or husbands either, the fact that he had a longtime girlfriend helped to reinforce her willpower, but not by a whole lot.
She knew that crushing on rock-star types at almost thirty years old was just sad, especially after suffering so much humiliation at the hands of the last rock-star type she’d been involved with, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
“No sister to hold your hand?” he asked, moving around the tattoo chair standing at an angle in the middle of the compact room. He reached between his legs and centered his rolling stool under himself as he sat.
“Frankie came down with a cold, and Jo didn’t want to leave her,” she said, meaning her eight-month-old niece and twin sister, as she turned in a little circle and reacquainted herself with his room.
She liked Jamie’s space, with its dark blue walls and lush spider plants hanging in front of the small frosted-glass windows set high up on the wall. His black lacquered bookcases were filled with all sorts of odd statues, knickknacks and an amazing array of books that ranged from glossy picture books of all kinds to odd curiosities that were fun to flip through. The walls were covered in framed photographs of him with various celebrities he’d met and/or tattooed mixed with small paintings of his.
“Poor little critter.” He made a sympathetic face as he pulled on a pair of black nitrile gloves. “You sure you want to do this without her?”
It was Leni’s turn to get the matching trio of tiger lilies—one orange, one pink
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