The time he’d spent with Livvy.
And even then, he’d kept a tight lid on himself, never allowing himself to fully immerse himself, because he knew she’d be gone soon. Except last week. He’d almost lost his control in that motel room. It had scared him so much, he’d had to run away from the bed.
I should punish you for making me want you. For making me need you.
If you punish me, you’re punishing yourself.
“We do need to cut down on stalking,” Nicholas said wryly. “But I’m not sure if extravagantly indulging our id is the answer.”
“It doesn’t have to be extravagant. We should make a pact. One feeling, at least one,” Eve suggested. “What can it hurt? Try it today. When you experience some emotion, don’t run from it or try to stuff it down. Express it.”
It could hurt a great deal, when you were sitting on a pressure cooker like he was. Twist the valve, and God only knows if he could stop at one. He would gorge himself, lose himself.
He couldn’t explain to her how dangerous and foolish that was. He forced a smile for his sister, because that was what he did for her. Pretended everything was normal, even when it wasn’t.
And a part of him recognized the seductive appeal of this exercise. To feel alive and not like an automaton? Even if it was for only one heartbeat. “Okay. One feeling.”
Chapter 9
LIVVY SMILEDas her client pirouetted in front of the floor-length mirror, admiring the watercolor lion Livvy had put on her skin. For most of the day, Livvy’s entire focus had been concentrated on the expanse of the girl’s side, the perfect curves and lines of the design, each pigment, blur, and fade. Her adrenaline was running high now, flush with the rush of a job well done. The girl had been a perfect canvas, quiet and relaxed. “Like it?”
“Love it. It’s perfect. Exactly what I had in mind.”
“Good.”
The bubbly girl grabbed her purse and coat. “I can’t wait to show everyone.”
“Gabe’s in the front and can get you all sorted out. Give a ring if you have any questions or problems.”
“Oh, I will. Definitely. Thanks!”
The curtain rustled as the girl bounced out to the reception area, and Livvy began the process of cleaning up her workspace. She’d requested more shifts for the past week. The work was good on a number of fronts: brought in some extra cash and lether avoid the monotony of her mother’s home and their depressing inability to speak to each other.
It also keeps you from typing out ten million texts you’ll never send to Nicholas.
Well, clearly.
The curtain rustled, and a large man walked into the back room. “Nice job on that lion. Damn, you’re good.”
She stood and stretched. “Thanks.” Her skill at watercolor tattoos gave her a niche not too many artists had. Unlike regular tattoos, with their hard lines and edges, watercolors incorporated blurred lines and gradual spatters, for a vague, airy quality. They were perfect in their imperfections. She’d fallen in love with the designs as soon as she’d seen them and worked under artists all over the country to perfect her skill.
Gabriel Hunter crossed his massive arms over his chest, the flannel of his shirt rolled up to reveal colorful tattoos. With his dark auburn hair and matching beard, the man looked like he should be chopping wood in a cabin somewhere, but Livvy had watched his big fingers maneuver some of the tiniest, most detailed tattoos she’d ever seen.
Gabe was the one who had originally hooked Livvy on the art—his mother had been the Kanes’ housekeeper for as long as she could remember. Gabe had been a few years older, friends with Paul and Nicholas.
She wondered if he’d spoken to Nicholas since the accident. She didn’t think so, given his close bond with Paul.
Everything leads back to Nicholas, damn it.
“The customer asked how long you’d be here for. I told her I wasn’t sure.”
Livvy eyed her boss. “Do you need a definite date? Because I’m still not sure when my mom...”
“No, no,” Gabe rushed. “I only wanted to tell you that if you decided to stay longer, I’m game. That girl came from three hours away and wants to bring her friend up next weekend. It’s like I have a guest celebrity artist here.”
Livvy blushed but lifted her chin, pride making her want to beam. Celebrity was overselling it, but she did have a small but fierce following. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Gabe’s green eyes warmed. Despite his outwardly physically intimidating appearance, the tattooed lumberjack was and always had been a pussycat. “You okay closing up?”
