My heart squeezed and I almost couldn’t breathe. I’d wanted to hear someone say that to me for so long. “Yeah, I’ll meet him.”
He smacked a hand lightly on the table. “Okey dokey! Let’s do it!” He began to stand.
“Now?”
“Why not?” His eyebrows flew high, and I let out a breath. I wasn’t sure why I was more nervous to meet his husband, but I supposed it was because he had expectations of me. I actually cared what the guy who got off to my voice thought about me. How fucked-up had my life become in only a couple of days?
Declan shocked me when he snagged his muffin and my coffee cup and took them to the person behind the counter to get everything put into to-go containers. While he stood there, he consumed the muffin in what I swore was only three bites, so apparently that wasn’t getting boxed up. Dear God, his mouth, even eating, was amazing to watch in action. On his way back to me, he pressed the warm cardboard cup into my palm and put a friendly hand on my shoulder.
“Uh.”
“I can’t wait to see Jake’s reaction. I’m so bad at giving gifts. I can never wait.” He waggled his eyebrows, and suddenly I found myself swept up in his enthusiasm, even though nerves still rattled around in my chest. I got to my feet and straightened my spine, feeling odd at standing so tall.
“Lead the way.”
5
Jake
Marcus’s eyestwinkled in mischief, and I knew the question was coming before he even asked. His shoulders wiggled like he knew he was up to no good, and I held in a laugh. “How was the weeklong sex marathon I’m sure you had?”
I snorted from where I sat on my stool, my tattooing chair newly sanitized and ready for the next walk-in client. No one was standing around browsing the portfolios, so it gave me time to relax and drink a can of Coke. “Play it cool, Marc. You’re straight, you’re not supposed to be that interested in the steamy man-on-man sex.”
PD rumbled out a laugh from where he sat behind the cash register, a sketchbook open in front of him. He had his colored pencils laid out in a row, and while I wanted to peek, he’d only yell if I did before he was done tweaking whatever he was working on. He’d already done three clients today, and with the rates he was able to charge, he was set for the week. It was a slow day for me due to a scheduling mix-up. The client I’d thought I was doing a full back piece for didn’t clear the time with his boss. He’d blown me off, and now he wouldn’t be getting his deposit back for today, not that it was my problem. But that meant I could goof off without any issues. The Ink Well was one of the hottest tattoo shops in New Gothenburg, and time to relax seldom happened.
Marcus rolled his eyes. “Come on, man, you said it. I’m straight. I’m lucky if I get laid once a week at this rate. Amy and I are past the new-relationship fucking stage. I need to hear at least one of us is getting action.”
I laughed and took another sip of my drink. “Not my problem, man. What my hubby and I do is none of your beeswax.”
He shook his head and shoved himself up from the stool at his workstation on my right, crossing his arms over his massive chest. Marcus was a well-muscled man and wore more leather than PD did. Anyone who saw him would assume he was a King, too, but it was hard not to laugh like a lunatic when you actually saw what he drove—a metallic-orange Volkswagen Beetle. He looked like a giant inside of the small car, and it belonged tohim, not his girlfriend.
“You disappoint me, buddy. I thought we were friends.”
“We are,” I said with a shrug. “Just not the kind that swap sex stories.”
“Shame on you,” he grumbled, moseying his way over to PD and snatching the pencil from his hand, which didn’t end well for him. PD grabbed it back before slapping him over the back of the head, knocking him forward. He nearly crashed into a turning rack of stainless-steel jewelry near the counter.
I laughed and shook my head. Even though the only other tattoo parlor I’d worked at was a hole-in-the-wall with more cigarette smoke than air—where I’d learned during my apprenticeship—this place won for most entertaining. I never had a dull day here, and I went to work every day without issues. PD had a good environment set up, and unless he upped and sold the place, I didn’t see myself leaving anytime soon.
The bell above the door jangled, and I looked up as I took another sip of Coke, pausing when Dec walked in with another man. I stared, longer than was polite, taking in the high cheekbones, sad eyes, and pouty mouth of the stranger with my husband. He was handsome, with medium-length reddish-brown hair that sat naturally on the top of his head. Dec towered over him, but that wasn’t unusual. He was tall, almost six-foot-four, and he needed that height for hockey.
I cocked my head and placed the can of Coke on top of the half wall behind me before I stood and walked over to them. Since I had to go around the jewelry rack and sidestep Dawson where he was bent over unsticking gum from the floor, I had plenty of time to eye up my hot husband and his friend. My belly heated at the slow smile Dec gave me.
“Hi,” I said, leaning up to press a short kiss to his lips, and then I smiled at the stranger. “Don’t think we’ve met. I’m Jake.”
He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, but even though he had a young, rounded face, there was wariness on it, too, as though he’d been through one too many emotional battles. His eyes were the prettiest green I’d seen, but there was an exhaustion lingering there, and his skin was pale.
“Hello, I’m—” He glanced at Dec for a short moment before he continued. “My name is Logan.”
His voice sounded oddly familiar, and I had a weird sense I knew it from somewhere, which was strange because his face didn’t ring any bells.
“Do you play hockey, too? Is that how you guys know each other?” I asked, eyeing him carefully. He was much too small to be a player, but it was the only reason I could think of as to why he was with Dec.
“No, I don’t,” he said quickly, then laughed. “I didn’t even realize he was a player. I wouldn’t last a minute on ice. I can’t skate to save my life.”
“Something we’ll need to fix,” Dec said with a chuckle before he glanced around the shop. “Are you free, sweetheart? Could we go somewhere private to talk?”
I raised my eyebrows at him, then turned to look at PD and Marcus. They’d both stopped their playful fighting to stare at us, or more specifically—at Logan. I didn’t miss the curiosity both of them obviously felt. It wasn’t often Dec asked for privacy, so it must be serious.
