“A pent-up ball of rage,” I suggest.
“Yeah, that’s pretty accurate. Although considering his client has been whining since the moment the needle touched his back, I’m not surprised he’s in a bad mood,” Etta says.
“Cyrus mentioned he’d got an all-day session booked in. Did the client pay up front?”
Glancing toward Cyrus and his client, Etta says, “He paid a 50 percent deposit when he booked, but Cyrus insisted that he pay the balance when he arrived. He’s only been working on him for thirty minutes, and he’s already asked for two breaks. I think Cyrus might actually kill him if he asks to stop again.”
Wincing, I pointedly avoid looking toward Cyrus as I make my way back to my chair.
“Hey guys, Sully texted me last night. They’re going to get into town today because their apartment is going to be ready early. He said they plan to unload the U-Haul with their stuff, then come to the studio to get their areas stocked and set up. Apparently, they each have some appointments set up for the next few days, so if you’re here later, you’ll get to meet them,” Betty announces.
“I’m busy all day, so we’ll be here,” I tell her, motioning for Knight to take my seat, then plopping my butt onto his lap.
Suddenly worried he might have made plans, I twist to the side so I can look up at him. I ask, “You’re staying with me, aren’t you?”
“Where else would I be?” he asks simply.
Sighing, I smile and rest my cheek against his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath me. By the time my first client arrives, I’m sleepy and a little too comfortable cuddled up in my husband’s arms.
“Octy, you little minx,” Colin shouts as he saunters through the door.
“Hey, you, long time no see,” I say, unfurling and pushing out of Knight’s lap to go and greet my longtime client.
I hear Knight’s sound of annoyance when Colin pulls me in for a hug, but I don’t see the suppressed anger in his usually emotionless eyes until I step back and turn away to lead Colin toward my area.
Since Knight and I met, the only time he’s looked even remotely perturbed was the day he brought me home and Betty tried to dismiss his role in my life and get me to move into the Barnetts’ guest room.
Unlike them, Colin isn’t a known quantity like Betty and Cody are. With his eyes narrowed, Knight watches Colin like he’s an opponent, and he’s assessing the best way to take him down. Knowing I need to do something to defuse the situation, I walk straight into Knight’s chest, forcing him to acknowledge me and dragging his attention away from Colin, who has no idea he’s even in danger right now.
Knight is a beast of a man. He’s strong and fit, and even though I know he doesn’t have any formal military training, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he’s very capable of keeping himself and those around him safe and protected if the situation arose.
“Colin, this is my husband, Knight. Baby, this is Colin. He’s been a client of mine since I first started tattooing.”
“Husband?” Colin questions, his eyebrows arching so high they hit his receding hairline. I don’t know how old Colin is, but I’d place him in the early to mid-forties range. He’s an ex-professional hockey player turned coach, and I gave him his first tattoo when I worked in the shop in Las Vegas where Etta and I met.
“Yep,” I say, holding my left hand up to show him the wedding and engagement rings on my finger.
“Holy shit, so that’s why you’ve been MIA the last couple of months. Congratulations, I’m happy for you,” Colin gushes, smiling brightly.
“Thanks, Colin,” I say, not mentioning that Knight and I have only been together for eight days, or that my months of being MIA have nothing to do with my new relationship.
Turning to Knight, Colin holds out his hand to him. “You’ve caught yourself one hell of a woman. Congratulations.”
I brace, wondering what he’ll do, but Knight accepts his hand and nods. “I know how lucky I am.”
Crisis averted, I show Colin the sketch I’ve done for him, then get to work. At twelve noon, Jaiden arrives with an order pad and pen and takes everyone’s food orders, then promptly returns at twelve fifty p.m. with our food.
Despite Knight’s obviously unimpressed expression, I don’t stop working at one p.m. Instead, I take a bite of my sandwich, then set it aside while I work on Colin’s tattoo. Once I’ve finished, I wrap his leg up, get him booked for the next piece he wants, then wave goodbye as Etta checks him out at the front desk. I can feel Knight’s displeasure when I climb the stairs, ready to clean up my station before my next client gets here in forty-five minutes.
“Eat your lunch,” Knight says quietly the moment I take a seat in my chair.
“I just want to clean up, then I have a little time to eat before my next client.”
Tension radiates from him as he watches me clean and re-wrap everything in fresh sterile bags, ready for my next client. Once I’m done, I reach for my sandwich only to find it already in Knight’s hand.
“Break room,” he says coolly, taking my hand in his and guiding me down the steps and toward the back of the building before I’ve even agreed.
Opening the door for us, Knight urges me to step past him and into the room, then follows me in, closing and locking the door behind us.
