Lydia and me, walking into Charlie’s house for Sunday night dinner.
My arms wrapped around Lydia as we stood in Luke and Scarlett’s yard during a summer cookout.
Fuck. I needed to get my head on straight. My thoughts were taking a detour through a fantasyland that didn’t make any sense. I didn’t think of her like that. I didn’t think of her at all. Hell, Luke and Scarlett didn’t even have a backyard, seeing as they were still living at Wyatt’s place.
And Lydia wasn’t sticking around Calla Bay for any longer than she had to. That had been her MO for the past decade. What would make her change that up now? She had already been in town for a full week, which was mind-blowing and annoying.
I had to decline a Sunday night dinner invite just so that I didn’t run into her. And I loved Sheila’s dinners.
The door of my tattoo shop opened, and I hustled to the front in case it was a walk-in looking for an appointment.
“Hey, man. I bought tacos. You got a few minutes?” Luke strode in, still in his police uniform from his shift on duty.
I schooled my face, making sure I didn’t give off any guilty vibes. I didn’t have anything to be guilty about; it wasn’t like I was picturing his sister naked or anything.
Fuck, now I was.
“You come with food, and I’ll always find the time,” I joked.
“Where is everyone?” Luke asked, looking around at the dead shop.
“Winter in Calla Bay. It’s been deader than usual this year though.” I took the bags of Mexican food from him, getting us set up at the lounge area at the front of the shop. The black leather couches were small but comfortable. A coffee table covered with stickers, some from clients and some that I just thought had cool designs, held a few ink inspiration binders.
“You need to get your business name out there, Seb. People just need to know you exist, and they’ll come,” Luke advised.
“Yeah. Easier said than done, my friend.”
“I know someone who could help with that.”
A skeptical brow rose as I continued to shove a taco down my throat. “Who?”
“Lydia,” he said. “She’s sticking around for a while. She could use some work. You could use a social media manager. It’s a win-win.”
A coughing fit hit me just as I was taking another bite. I nearly spat my food at him, but luckily, I recovered in time.
“No,” I said succinctly.
“What do you mean, no? You have no fucking customers. Let Lydia try to drum up some business for you. What can it hurt?”
He had no idea what it could hurt. Hell, my dick still hurt with phantom blue-ball pain if I thought about her for too long. Having Lydia in my space, in my sanctuary, would be a distraction that I couldn’t afford. Besides, there was no way she would go for this arrangement. She despised me. Lydia and I being forced to work together would be disastrous.
“I don’t have the money to take someone on right now,” I told him.
It was the truth. Things were tight right now, and additional payroll expenses would only make that worse.
“How’s Scarlett feeling?” I asked, trying for a topic change before he kept badgering me about hiring his little sister.
A goofy grin split his face. “She feels great. She’s in the second trimester now. Apparently, that’s when her hormones start going wild because she. is. demanding,” he said with a knowing look.
“Ha. Sounds rough,” I laughed.
“We’re going to find out the sex next month. Letty’s going to put together a little gender reveal party. Nothing crazy, probably just cake with either pink or blue on the inside.”
“You need me to tat ‘It’s a boy’ or ‘It’s a girl’ across your chest, you let me know.”
“Yeah. I’m sure Letty will love that,” he laughed. He wiped his hands on a napkin, his expression morphing into a piteous look. I could see where this was heading before he even opened his mouth. “Come on, man. Part-time hours. Just something that gives her a reason to stay in town and a little money in her pocket,” he pleaded.
This taco was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. I didn’t want to look into his sad yet hopeful eyes and feel pressured into doing him this favor.
