At home, I undressed and showered, running my hands over my body. My very lonely, untouched body, without a single tattoo. I sighed, knowing I’d missed out on a night of hot, wild sex with the best-looking guy I’d ever seen. I toweled off, put on boxers and a T-shirt, and flipped on the television for background noise.
My phone buzzed with a text from Weston.
Brunch on Saturday?
I had nothing going on, so I might as well hang out with friends. It beat being alone.Sure.
Good. There’s a new guy at the firm I think you’d hit it off with. I could ask him, if you want.
I groaned.Told you already. Not interested in a setup.
Of course Weston didn’t bother to answer me. Now that he had Brenner, he thought the entire world needed to be coupled up and be as disgustingly in love as they were. I tossed the phone aside and tried to pay attention to what was on the TV screen, but all I could see were sexy, arrogant lips and hot blue eyes.
I picked up my phone and scrolled to Grady’s text.
“Hmm. I haven’t been to the Village in years.”
**
It might be Saturday, but I had an entire day’s worth of case files to finish before I could make my way to St. Marks Place. It was now close to six, and I must’ve walked by the tattoo parlor at least twice.
“Get your head out of your ass and go inside.” When I opened the door, a young blond glanced up from the customer she was working on. Her eyes were heavily rimmed with black liner and blue shadow, her lips a shocking pink, but her smile was bright and friendly.
“Hi. Have a seat. Someone will be with you in a few.” Her voice was a nasal combination of Long Island and Brooklyn, reminiscent of the neighborhood I’d grown up in and curiously comforting.
I scanned the walls, taking in the tattoo art. I’d never had any desire to mark my body, and I watched the artist, both fascinated and squeamish knowing a needle injected ink into the person’s skin. I preferred firm body parts, not sharp, pointy things poking into me, but I could admire the artistry that created the designs. The client was a twentysomething guy who was having a small skull and a crow placed on his biceps. I’d had numerous lovers with tattoos and had never really paid attention to them. The process was interesting, though, and going by the pictures on their walls, Keston and his coworkers were extremely talented.
The artist finished with the young man, washed the area carefully, then dried it thoroughly. A clear adhesive wrap was secured around his arm. She handed him a printed sheet. “I’ve also emailed this to you. Take care of it, and don’t get it wet for five days. After that, moisturize a ton, don’t pick or rub at it. Keep out of the sun, and don’t get it sweaty.”
“No problem. Thanks.” He paid and left, and she squinted at the screen.
“Sorry you had to wait…hmm, do you have an appointment? I don’t have anything on here for you…”
I wondered what I was doing, waiting for this random guy when I should’ve just ignored Grady’s text.
“Well, I—”
From the rear of the shop, Keston walked up to the front counter. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Not exactly the greeting I’d have liked, but I probably shouldn’t have expected more.
“Nice to see you too,” I smirked. I’d taken care with my outfit today—a tight blue shirt that showed off my hard-won ripped body and a pair of joggers that rested low on my hips and showed off my ass. Not that I could compete with the leather pants Keston had been wearing the night before that had featured in the filthiest dream I’d had in years.
“I’ll handle this, Jo,” Keston said, his gaze latched to mine. “You can take off. See you tomorrow.”
Her curious eyes darted from Keston’s hard face to my mild one, and she nodded. “Okay. Night.” She grabbed her purse from a drawer and walked out. The door shut with aclick.
I faced Keston. Damn, he was even hotter today, in a tight black T-shirt and low-riding sweats. In the bright overhead lights, I could now see the ink on his arms and circling one wrist. “So, this is your shop?”
“How did you find me?” he growled, and that gravelly sound went straight to my dick. He huffed. “Never mind. My brother, of course.”
“Don’t blame Grady. But I mean, you were kinda rude.”
Heat kindled in those laser blue eyes. “Rude? What’re you talking about? You bailed on me,Bailey.”
That snide tone wasn’t going to wash with me, and I advanced on him and poked him in his very hard, muscled chest. “You’re still making assumptions about me.”
His lip curled. “So you’re not a lawyer?”
