“Well, you look good. Doesn’t she look good, Declan?” She turns to ask the Viking behind the reception desk while slinging her arm over my shoulder.
I swallow hard because I have no idea what he’s going to say. I’m not even sure I want his opinion at this point.
“She looks gorgeous.”
I wasn’t making eye contact with him before, but I am now. My heart stalls at his comment because I’m pretty sure friends don’t call friends gorgeous. He can’t possibly think that about me, right?
“Yes, she does,” Becca confirms and gives my shoulder a tight squeeze. “Girl, he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you… or lick you, I’m not sure which one,” she whispers for my ears only.
I’m still staring at Declan and can confirm his face does have a… look to it. I just refuse to believe the words that came out of Becca’s mouth.
I clear my throat. “Anyways, I’m here to see you, Declan, about a rewards program that my dad was talking about?”
Becca lets me go, but not before saying, “Rewards program… does that mean you’re the reward?” She ends her question with a slap to my ass.
I yelp, and Declan groans. “You’re an HR nightmare waiting to happen, Becca. Don’t touch Penny,” he growls the last part.
She puts her hands up in surrender. “I’m just playing around. But seriously, Penny,” she looks at me, “when you want that clit piercing, I’ll be happy to do it for you.” She gives me an exaggerated wink, and a bubbled laugh leaves my throat.
This girl is something else. I have no idea how she and Declan met, but I have no doubt she keeps him on his toes.
“Come on back here,” Declan gestures to the reception desk, “We can figure out a plan.”
I make my way to the desk, and Declan moves out of his chair. “Here, sit down.”
I hesitate. I don’t want to sit because I was hoping this interaction would take five minutes or less, but Declan guides me by my lower back to sit in the butterscotch brown, high-backed leather chair.
“So, how do we want to do this?”
“How do we want to do what?” I bark back. Why I’m being snippy, I have no idea. I just feel the need to be around him.
His eyes narrow. “How do we want to do the rewards program? We could do punch cards or a points system. What do you think?”
I look at the reception desk while he asks me the questions, and I spot the coffee mug I gave Declan for Christmas. There are remnants of coffee in it. “You use this?” I slide the mug toward me and examine it closely. He never told me thank you on Christmas day when we opened presents, so I didn’t think he liked it.
“He literally brings it down from his apartment every day. It only leaves his hands when he’s tattooing,” interrupts Becca, who is watching and listening to us from her perch. Her head is peaking over the little pony wall that divides the tattooing area from the reception area, and she’s got a shit-eating grin on her face.
“Go away,” Declan demands and looks back at me. “Anyways, the rewards program. I think we should do a Beach Brew Coffee House and Blank Canvas Ink duo card. For every coffee someone buys, they will get a dollar off a tattoo. And for every tattoo someone gets, they’ll get a dollar off their coffee.”
He carries the mug down from his apartment every day? “You never told me thank you,” I say instead. I’m having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that he uses the gift I made him.
Why does this make me irrationally madder at him?
“What?” he asks.
I turn to look at him. I didn’t realize he was so close, and I run right into his legs with mine when I swivel the chair.
His knees buckle slightly, and I internally fist pump the air. He deserved that.
“Oops,” I say without remorse. “I said, you never told me thank you for the gift.”
He bends down to trap me between his arms against the reception desk.
His eyes flick between mine, and I lean back as much as the chair will let me. I hate that I love the scent that’s wafting off his skin. The mixture of sandalwood and saltwater has me involuntarily rubbing my thighs together, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t have an effect on me.
It’s just the smell, not the man, who is doing this to you.
“Thank you,” he says, sincerity evident in his tone.
