Chapter one
Shea
With a tattoo gun in my hand, it was easy to lose track of time. That steady buzzing drone could send me into a meditative trance within seconds.
I’ve tried many things over the course of my life and failed spectacularly at all of them.
Except this. I always found my way back to the tattoo gun and the canvas of warm skin like it was my home, my soul’s calling.
It wasn’t easy to make Hotline Tattoo Parlor go from a dream to a reality, but it was worth all those sleepless nights and pinched pennies. I was financially successful enough now that I could afford actual employees full-time instead of running the show by myself. I even had a training program for apprentice artists on the side.
“Girl, your posture is going to be total shit by the time you’re forty if you keep hunching over like that,” Raine said from the front desk, painting her nails glittery pink.
As my admin assistant, she handled the tasks that I hated most—customer service and paperwork. And she made it look like a breeze. Thanks to her flirty personality and colorful style, she wielded a magnetic charm that had people instantly fall in love with her.
I stretched my aching back, massaging one shoulder. My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I was overdue for lunch by an hour or two.
“Small price to pay in my book when I get to make cool art every day for a living,” I replied.
Raine examined her nails in the light, studying her handiwork.
“Well, I would appreciate it if you didn’t look like a withered old crone before your time. As your personal matchmaker, I still have to find you a husband. You’re not getting any younger.”
I huffed a laugh, helping my client sit up as I stripped off my latex gloves. As much as I adored Raine, she had a reputation for being a busybody, too invested in everyone else’s love lives for her own good.
After I gave my client a rundown of basic care for their new ink, I sent them on their way. When the door was shut, I flipped the sign toClosed for Lunch, and turned my attention to Raine.
“As I recall, you appointed yourself as my matchmaker with no input from me. I’m only thirty years old, by the way. Stop acting like I practically have one foot in the grave.”
Raine gingerly blew on her nails to dry them.
“I was the one who set you up with that cute cowboy last Friday.” She waved me off, muttering, “I still can’t believe you didn’t sleep with him. He used to be achampion bullrider,Shea. He probably had stamina for days.”
I chuckled and shook my head.
“I told you cowboys aren’t exactly my type.”
She swiveled her chair to look at me.
“You’re so busy working all the time, I’m convinced you don’t evenhavea type anymore. Your sex drive has probably withered away to nothing but a dry husk by now. All work and no play, Shea. It’s not good for you.”
“My sex drive is alive and well, thank you very much,” I protested.
Raine’s eyebrows flicked up.
“I’m not talking about anything silicone or battery-operated. I’m talking about a real flesh-and-blood man who can give you mind-blowing orgasms that make you forget your own name.”
I rolled my eyes with a sigh. Raine called me guarded and aloof, with black cat energy and iron walls that no one could get through. I blamed it on my tattoo shop. Starting a business took up most of my time and attention, I reasoned. After hanging around clients all day, I didn’t really have much interest in going out to dinner and making small talk.
But deep down, I suspected it had more to do with the transience of men in my life. They didn’t stick around for long. Just when I began to open up, to expose a little piece of my heart, they disappeared.
It was getting harder and harder to imagine anyone would want to stay for the long haul.
Before I could reply, the rumble of a motorcycle cut me off. Raine popped out of her seat to look through the front window.
A large portion of my clientele were bikers, so the arrival of a motorcycle wasn’t an unusual sight. But Raine liked to ogle the hot ones.
She clucked her tongue and shot me a wry look over her shoulder.
