at that! You managed to find something through all my . . . stuff,” she said.
Grabbing a pen off the counter and handing it to her, Chase said, “Here you go, sassy Sue. You need to check off your tattoo, your streaks, the sex shop, and saying the first thing that came to your mind.”
She took the pen. “But I didn’t go to a sex shop,” she argued.
He grinned. “You have everything you need from one. Except the handcuffs.”
She hit his arm and he grabbed her hand. “And Becca told me about how you went off on Mrs. Andrews. You said the first thing that came to mind. I bet you apologized afterward, but it still counts.”
She didn’t pull away as he stroked her hand but said, “Which reminds me, I have to call her tonight about the weather. There’s supposed to be a big thunderstorm coming in, so we will have to move the pageant from an outdoor stage to the community center. And reschedule the fireworks. Knowing Mrs. Andrews, she’ll probably call it a blessing.”
“Does that woman like anything? What kind of person hates fireworks? You get to play with fire and watch things explode,” he said.
“Why are all men such pyros?” she asked, laughing. “She doesn’t hate them; she just thinks they’re a waste of money.”
“I see. Well, back to your list. All you have left is to steal something—which, again, I do not recommend—skinny-dip, get drunk and flirt with a bunch of guys—not a big fan of that one either—have a one-night stand, and buy some handcuffs. Oh, and tell your ex that he’s a jerk off. I don’t know why you need to explain that; it should be obvious to him.”
“It’s therapeutic for me, and no, I don’t think Jimmy considers himself to be anything less than awesome.” Running her hand over his chest, she said, “I could just text Becca about the handcuffs.”
“Great, okay, so now a one-night stand. I do remember offering my services for that.” He dropped her hand to move closer.
Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and said, “But it wouldn’t work with you.”
That gave him pause. “Why the hell not?”
Katie ran her hand over his cheek. “Because a one-night stand is supposed to be a stranger that you have sex with and never see again.”
“I see the problem. So maybe we could modify your list. Instead of one-night stand, we’ll have a torrid affair,” he said.
She laughed. “I can’t believe you know the word torrid .”
“What do you think, I’m just a dumb tattoo artist who dabbles in comics?” he said, his pride pricked by her comment. “I went to college and I graduated with a three point eight GPA.”
Why people always assumed he was stupid just because he liked doing tattoos he didn’t know, but Katie looked like he had told her he was an alien. It was pretty insulting even though he was used to it, but coming from Katie it stung more. She didn’t seem like the type to be so judgmental.
She blinked at him. “Where did you go?”
“Berkeley, on scholarship,” he said, trying to keep the testiness out of his tone.
“That’s amazing! What did you major in?” she asked.
“Amazing? Like you’re amazed that I was smart enough to get a scholarship?” he said.
“No! I just meant it’s really hard to get a scholarship. You are really special, Chase.”
His irritation dimmed a bit and he said, “I majored in art and minored in English. I had already written and sold my first comic before I graduated, and I’ve been doing tattoos since I was eighteen, so I just stuck with what I knew. Saved my money, bought run-down parlors, turned them around, and sold them for a profit.”
She ran her hand down his arm and asked, “What else?”
“What do you mean?’
She stared at him so intensely it made him squirm, then asked, “What other little secrets don’t you want everyone to know?”
“I’m not hiding anything.”
“You let all of these people believe you’re just a tattoo artist, but you’re so
Grabbing a pen off the counter and handing it to her, Chase said, “Here you go, sassy Sue. You need to check off your tattoo, your streaks, the sex shop, and saying the first thing that came to your mind.”
She took the pen. “But I didn’t go to a sex shop,” she argued.
He grinned. “You have everything you need from one. Except the handcuffs.”
She hit his arm and he grabbed her hand. “And Becca told me about how you went off on Mrs. Andrews. You said the first thing that came to mind. I bet you apologized afterward, but it still counts.”
She didn’t pull away as he stroked her hand but said, “Which reminds me, I have to call her tonight about the weather. There’s supposed to be a big thunderstorm coming in, so we will have to move the pageant from an outdoor stage to the community center. And reschedule the fireworks. Knowing Mrs. Andrews, she’ll probably call it a blessing.”
“Does that woman like anything? What kind of person hates fireworks? You get to play with fire and watch things explode,” he said.
“Why are all men such pyros?” she asked, laughing. “She doesn’t hate them; she just thinks they’re a waste of money.”
“I see. Well, back to your list. All you have left is to steal something—which, again, I do not recommend—skinny-dip, get drunk and flirt with a bunch of guys—not a big fan of that one either—have a one-night stand, and buy some handcuffs. Oh, and tell your ex that he’s a jerk off. I don’t know why you need to explain that; it should be obvious to him.”
“It’s therapeutic for me, and no, I don’t think Jimmy considers himself to be anything less than awesome.” Running her hand over his chest, she said, “I could just text Becca about the handcuffs.”
“Great, okay, so now a one-night stand. I do remember offering my services for that.” He dropped her hand to move closer.
Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and said, “But it wouldn’t work with you.”
That gave him pause. “Why the hell not?”
Katie ran her hand over his cheek. “Because a one-night stand is supposed to be a stranger that you have sex with and never see again.”
“I see the problem. So maybe we could modify your list. Instead of one-night stand, we’ll have a torrid affair,” he said.
She laughed. “I can’t believe you know the word torrid .”
“What do you think, I’m just a dumb tattoo artist who dabbles in comics?” he said, his pride pricked by her comment. “I went to college and I graduated with a three point eight GPA.”
Why people always assumed he was stupid just because he liked doing tattoos he didn’t know, but Katie looked like he had told her he was an alien. It was pretty insulting even though he was used to it, but coming from Katie it stung more. She didn’t seem like the type to be so judgmental.
She blinked at him. “Where did you go?”
“Berkeley, on scholarship,” he said, trying to keep the testiness out of his tone.
“That’s amazing! What did you major in?” she asked.
“Amazing? Like you’re amazed that I was smart enough to get a scholarship?” he said.
“No! I just meant it’s really hard to get a scholarship. You are really special, Chase.”
His irritation dimmed a bit and he said, “I majored in art and minored in English. I had already written and sold my first comic before I graduated, and I’ve been doing tattoos since I was eighteen, so I just stuck with what I knew. Saved my money, bought run-down parlors, turned them around, and sold them for a profit.”
She ran her hand down his arm and asked, “What else?”
“What do you mean?’
She stared at him so intensely it made him squirm, then asked, “What other little secrets don’t you want everyone to know?”
“I’m not hiding anything.”
“You let all of these people believe you’re just a tattoo artist, but you’re so
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