“Oh my God. You didn’t attack him, did you?” I panic. I know Mara keeps a bat under the counter and she is fiercely protective of the people she loves.
“No! You’re so dramatic.” Mara rolls her eyes. “I didn’t even haveto because before I could do anything, that tall guy”—she points at the tattooed man’s retreating form—“tossed his ass out into the street like he was last week’s trash.”
My eyes widen as I take in her excited expression. “You’re joking.”
“Nope. It was fantastic.”
Shaking my head, I glance back toward the door. “So, I take it I missed Cora?”
“Yeah. She actually sat in the booth with him for a few minutes before she ran out of here.”
“Crap. I can’t believe I missed her again. I wish you’d said something.”
“Sorry, Mila. I didn’t have time with trying to not go to jail over bludgeoning a customer for being a dick.” She snorts and shakes her head. “Cora was nice enough to buy him a drink and muffin though.”
“Cranberry orange?”
Nodding, she grabs a few sleeves of cups to restock. I grab a sleeve from her and start doing the same at the opposite end to my sister. “It was the weirdest thing, though,” she muses.
“What was?”
“The way he stared at her. Almost in a creepy way. I don’t know why she bothered, though. I doubt he’ll come in here anymore.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I put the last of the cups out when I hear the buzzer go off in the kitchen. “Ya never know. Maybe he’ll come back, and besides, you know Cora is just a good person.”
“That is true, but I doubt he’ll be back. He didn’t seem like he was one for being the center of attention. Speaking of guys”—she snickers— “don’t forget, you have that date with Marcus coming up.”
I take a deep breath and pin her with a look. “I don't know why you told him I wanted to go out on a date with him.”
“Oh, come on, Mila. He’s perfect for you.”
Not bothering to answer, I brush past her and head back to the kitchen. I have brownies to finish and don’t feel like arguing. Mara means well, but I don’t know why she has to meddle.
We’re busy enough with the shop and hanging out with Cora along with her younger brother, Noah. We’re all really close; they’re basically family to us. She grew up with shitty parents, and I know it’s wrong, but she was relieved when they died and she got custody of Noah. We all were. Sort of. I don’t wish bad on anyone, but her life has definitely been easier since they passed. They weren’t good people.
I thank God every day for our parents. As kids, anything Mara or I wanted, we got; though we never begged for anything crazy. They made sure we always knew we were loved. Even as adults, neither of us ever have to doubt they’re there for us.
I know one thing for sure. We are luckier than most.
Chapter Three
Kash
Pulling into the shop, I take a minute to admire our building.Exiled Inkseemed like a pipe dream for four guys who came from different backgrounds and were abandoned to the system.
Emma, our foster mom, took us in and didn’t bat an eyelash as she picked up the slack of our parents. Sure, there was plenty of eye-rolling and glaring, but I have no doubt my dad would be relieved I landed with a person like her. She may have raised her voice on occasion, but she never raised her hands at us.
The red brick building stands out among some of the other little cutesy shoppes, but it feels like home. I know my dad would be proud. I don’t think he’d have chosen this path for me, but knowing I’m happy would be the most important thing to him.
There’s one large front window, and of course the glass of our black shop door, but that’s it. The door is smack in the middle, and to the right of that is our sign.Exiled Ink Tattoo. Damn, she’s pretty.I didn’t want our logo to be a total cliché, but we all put a piece of ourselves into that sign. We spent hours, shit, weeks, slaving over that design until we finally came up with one we agreed on.
Above the wordsExiled Inkis a skull sporting a broken crown, with a black crow to the side. A tattoo machine rests at an angle, and vines hold it altogether, squeezing it in. Atlas has vine tattoos; Rhett is obsessed with crows and how a group of them is a murder. Seth wanted the broken crown, and I rounded it out with the skull. Every tattoo shop should have a skull.
Skulls always made me think about my mortality. After losing both parents as young as I did, I chose to live life for me... just not the way my mom did.
I am responsible for my decisions, and I know they can affect the people around me. Which is why I stay honest with women. I don’t mess with relationships, and I take care of myself. What good is having a life if you aren’tliving?
Heading through the parking lot, I make a mental checklist of things that still need to be done. There are emails to respond to, and, of course, payroll. Bri left us in a bit of a lurch for the front, and maybe that’s partially my fault, but I really thought we were on the same page about the whole non-relationship thing.
