Page 7

“You’ve wanted one for years.” Brandi tugs on my arm.

I look through the front window and see Kira standing there. She's wearing black today—of course she is. Black jeans. Black tank top. Hair pulled into a long braid. Her tattooed arms are completely visible causing my mouth to go dry. This is a terrible idea. Not the tattoo. The tattoo is probably the least dangerous part of the afternoon.

Letting Kira touch me for two hours is the terrible idea. Heather whispers, “He's staring again.”

“Shut up,” I mutter at my sisters. And because I know my sister so well, I add. “No.”

Maddie blinks. “No, what?”

“You’re not coming inside,” I say, looking at all three.

“Why?” Heather asks.

“Because I said so,” I answer, opening the front door of Temptation Ink.

Heather laughs. “Bossy.”

I point toward Mountain Grind. “Go.”

They're still laughing when I enter the tattoo shop alone. The scent hits first, clean disinfectant, ink, and something faintly citrus. Kira looks up and smiles, causing my chest tightens in a way that has nothing to do with nerves.

“Well, well.” Kira looks up as I step inside Temptation Ink.

“Don’t,” I warn her, stopping by the counter.

“The mountain man has entered my lair,” She announces, smiling at me.

“I can still leave,” I glance toward the door.

She rounds the counter. “Scared?”

“No.” I square my shoulders.

“Need me to hold your hand?” She reaches toward me, a teasing smile on her lips.

“No,” I answer, keeping my hands at my sides.

“Kiss it better afterward?” Kira adds, tilting her head.

My eyes narrow. “Kira.”

She grins. “There he is.” She motions toward her station. “Come on, grumpy.”

I follow her to her workstation trying not to watch the swaying of her hips as she walks.

When we reach her workstation, I take a seat as she pulls some sketches out and shows them to me. I stop breathing when I see the third. Mountains. Pines. Two stars hidden above the ridgeline. Four smaller trees beneath them.

I look at her. “What's this?”

“The stars are your parents,” Kira explains, touching the design.

My throat tightens. “And the four trees?” I ask, studying the sketch.

“You and your sisters.” She traces the line of trees with her finger.

I stare at the drawing. She understood without me telling her. For one uncomfortable second, I feel exposed. Kira is supposed to be easy—teasing—flirting. A harmless crush I can keep behind a counter. This drawing isn't harmless. This drawing says she has been paying attention.

“I figured the tallest tree could be you.” Kira traces the highest branch. “Kind of standing over the others.”