Dangerously Inked (9 page)

“Nosey bastard.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

Finn stood and walked over to the leg press machine. “Are we working out, or what?”

“Yeah, we are. What’s the matter? Can’t talk and lift weights at the same time?”

“Once more, fuck you,” Finn said good-naturedly.

Mick slipped into the other leg press, adjusted the weight and started. “I don’t think I’m your type. But apparently Roisin is.”

“God damn right.” He started pumping his legs, paused and added more weight, started again. “How’d you know, Mick?”

“That she’d be a good play partner for you? I’ve been watching you play for years.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Finn said. Mick stayed quiet, waiting for him to go on. “I’ve been seeing a bit of her. We’ve been talking a lot.”

“Talking? Huh.”

“Come on, mate. I’m no Neanderthal. Alright, alright, maybe I am. Maybe I have been. But you have to know, things started changing for me with Kenji’s death.”

“Yeah. You told me some before you agreed to come here and see if you wanted to work for me. Does that have anything to do with you wanting to leave Atlanta? Because you sure have some sweet setup there.”

“I wouldn’t mind working for you. But yeah. Something like that. The way it went down, him mostly alone in the hospital at the end, and then the fucking funeral. Shit. Makes a man think, you know?”

“Change can be good,” Mick said.

“It’s about time for me, too.” He stopped, rubbed his towel over his head. “Roisin is…I don’t know. Part of it.”

“I’m not sure I get what you’re saying.”

“Yeah, neither do I. I’m bloody well confused, if you want to know the truth. But that girl makes me feel things…think things…it’s all new.” He did twenty reps, paused and took in a long breath, blew it out. “I’ve been a pretty shut-down guy my whole life. But now? My head’s all fucked up. I was in bed with her at seven yesterday morning and again at seven 
this
morning
 if you want to know my business, so don’t even give me a hard time about flaking on the run.”

“Wow.”

“What?”

“How the mighty have fallen,” Mick said with a small grin.

“How many times are you going to make me tell you to fuck off in one day?”

“As many as it takes. So, you’re falling for her?”

“I didn’t say that,” Finn argued. “We’ve only known each other, what? Ten days?”

“You didn’t have to say it. You stayed the night with her, Finn—two nights, from the sound of it—which you never do. You’ve kept track of the days. And you look like a deer in the headlights. I recognize that look all too well.”

“Yeah? Was it like this with you and Allie?”

“A little different because we’ve known each other our whole lives. But yeah.”

“What the fuck do I do about it?” he asked.

“It’s kind of a sink-or-swim situation. You get to choose which way you want to go. If the girl is willing, that is. Is she?”

“How do I fucking know?”

“Ask her.”

“Yeah, I just say to her, ‘Roisin, how’d you like to spend the rest of your life with me?’”

Micks dark brows arched. “Is that what you 
want
 to say to her?”

“Fuuuuck.” Finn’s face went numb. He rubbed at it. It didn’t help. “Did that just come out of my mouth?”

Mick grinned. “It did.”

The rest of his life? With a woman he’d just met?

And talked more of the truth to than any woman he’d ever known. Not Ayla. Not Olivia. But he was not going to say any such thing to her. Christ, was he cracked?

Maybe. Because he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Not only dominating her, fucking her, but just 
being
 with her. He wanted to talk with her. Discover her. How mad was that?

He had an appointment with her at Midnight Ink tomorrow. But he could send her a text today, maybe talk on the phone tonight while he was babysitting the event Mick wanted him to watch over on his computer.

Yeah, he was mad. Mad for the girl. Too mad to question anything but when he’d get to see her, touch her, kiss her again.

Yeah. Fucking mad.

Rosie stopped on the sidewalk outside of the black-painted brick building that housed Midnight Ink on Friday and began to pace. Her stomach was fluttering as if it were filled with a million butterflies because she was about to see Finn—he was coming in for his second session.

He’s just a client. Just a man.

They were both lies. Especially after the two nights they’d just spent together—nights where the mind-blowing kink and the even more mind-blowing sex had been mixed with conversation until the early morning hours. Conversation that was sometimes deep, sometimes half-asleep mutterings, a lot of teasing and laughter. She’d told him about her last two relationships—about Billy, who she was with for a year, a good guy, but she could never fall in love with him. Then Dean, the Dom from Fort Worth, her last relationship. He’d lasted six months. It wasn’t even the long distance. She simply couldn’t bear to stay with a man she couldn’t attach to.

They’d talked about why she kept her distance from men, the stuff she’d worked through. How nearly losing Henry Lee to cancer had made her re-evaluate her life. How playing at the club had helped her to work out some of the rage about the damn, ruthless cancer.

What other man would she have ever wanted to go into all that stuff with?

He’d told her about his ex-wife, Olivia. How he’d married her too fast, how unfair he’d been to her. How he’d felt she was perfectly justified in leaving him.

He’d talked to her a lot about losing his friend Kenji. It had affected him so profoundly, made him look at the way he lived his life. All the dire warnings Mick had given her about Finn, about what a heavy playboy he was…well, it had been true. But he felt ready for a change now, he’d confided to her in the pale light of sunrise. It was time for him to shake off the detritus of the past and live for the present.

A lesson she needed to learn, too. That’s what Henry Lee was doing. Did she need to get cancer before she learned her damn lessons?

Finn made her want to really start living 
now
.

Finn…

Waking up at six AM with him inside her, his hips moving in a slow, sensual grind, kissing her neck…

She went warm all over.

Pull it together, girl! You’re at work.

She took a breath, smoothed her hair back and pulled open the bright crimson door.

“Hey, Christie,” she greeted her cousin, who was leaning back in one of the waiting area chairs with his acoustic guitar in his lap, his long legs stretched out in front of him. They had the same coloring—black hair and blue eyes—and could have passed for brother and sister if he wasn’t six-foot-four and she wasn’t a good foot shorter. “Staying out of trouble, baby boss man?”

“Jesus, Rosie—do you have to call me that?”

“Nope. But I like the way it sounds when Sassy says it, so I’m afraid it’s sticking.”

“If Sassy jumped off a bridge—”

“I would follow, singing her coffee’s praises. Just kidding. But the name’s sticking.”

He rolled his eyes at her and began to strum his guitar. Christie had agreed to meet her there to sign some paperwork he’d forgotten about—again. Classic musician. Or classic musician who was clearly crushing on Etta, from everything she’d gathered when she and Etta went to brunch at the Court of Two Sisters the day before. Those two definitely had a thing going—which was fine, as long as her cousin behaved himself. Favorite cousin or not, she’d have to break his legs if he did anything to hurt Etta. Maybe she’d better tell him before things went too far. And it’d be a good, if momentary, distraction from the damn butterflies.

“Christie, we have to talk. In the office?”

“Okay…” He eyed her warily.

She led the way back into the back of the shop and Christie closed the office door behind them.

She set her purse on the desk and leaned against the edge. “You know that other than Henry Lee, you are my favorite relative,” Rosie told him. “I also like to think you’re one of the good guys as far as women are concerned, but I know how overwhelming desire can be. I know it can make people do things they never…” She blew out along breath. God, did she know. “Just trust me on this.”

Christie looked at her closely, his brows drawing together. “Rosie, is there something going on with you? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

“
No.
 Christie, this isn’t about me. It also isn’t my story to tell, but you should know Etta has been through a lot.”

“I’ve been getting that feeling.”

”Too much,” Rosie added grimly. “I’m not sure 
I
 could come back from that still believing in love songs and happy endings. Not that I do now. That’s your department.”

Although that didn’t seem to be entirely true these days.

“Agreed,” he said. “Now do I have to kick someone’s ass or not?”

She bit her lip. There was a knock at the door and Sassy poked her head in.

“Rosie, doll, your noon appointment is here.”

Finn.

“You might have to kick 
my
 ass if I get in over my head,” she muttered to her cousin as she pushed her way past him and out onto the floor of the shop—and stopped in her tracks simply seeing Finn sitting in the chair at her station.

Damn it—why did he have to be so God damn…
everything
?

Her mind instantly flashed back to Wednesday morning. They’d been up until nearly dawn, woken again at nine. They’d showered together, and she’d meant to make her brunch with Etta at eleven, but he’d distracted her with wet kisses and pulling her hair hard in just the right way…

When she’d had to say a rushed goodbye there was one moment when she could have sworn he’d looked crushed. Then yesterday he’d texted her off and on all day. Last night they’d been on the phone until midnight, as if they couldn’t stand to stay away from each other.

She 
couldn’t
 stand it. That was the truth. And it scared the hell out of her.

But she couldn’t help smiling when she saw him, didn’t even care who saw when he stood up and pulled her into a tight bear hug. She breathed him in. Ah, that fresh ocean scent. That and the strength of his massive arms rendered her breathless.

“Don’t squeeze me too tight, you beast,” she gasped, “or I won’t be able to work on you.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” he said, releasing her, his eyes shining at her. He whispered, “If I kiss you, will you still be able to tattoo me?”

“Maybe. But my cousin and the rest of the shop would never let me live it down.”

“I’ll behave then,” he said, sitting down once more.

“Don’t strain yourself, Finn.”

“Ha! Very funny.”

She smiled to herself as she set up her machine and filled her inkpots.

“Shading today,” she told him. “This is going to hurt.”

“You love being able to say that to me.”

“I do. Off with your shirt. And yes, I love saying that to you, too.”

He chuckled as he slipped his shirt over his head. Her breath hitched at the sight of his bare, muscled chest. Didn’t matter how many times she’d seen his body, smoothed her hands over the solid flesh. In fact, that made her crave touching him even more.

Focus!

“Looks like it’s healing well,” she said.

“So you’ve been telling me nearly every day.”

She glanced up and he winked at her, making her grin. Making her wonder briefly if it was sane—safe—to allow herself to feel this happy.

She dipped the needle in the first ink pot. “Here we go.”

She spent the next two hours bent closely over his big body, working the shading and detail into the koi, filling in the Kanji symbols in the center of his chest. They talked a bit, but mostly they both got into that Zen headspace that happened with some clients. It felt a bit like subspace—that focused, with that same sense of the rest of the world drifting away.

Finally, she stopped to take a break. They both got up and stretched, had some coffee, chatted with Sassy, who kept shooting Rosie knowing looks, which she ignored. She was sure Sassy would press her for details as soon as Finn was gone. They sat again and she worked for another two hours on the dragon before she’d done as much as his skin could take.

She sat back in her chair as he got up to look in the big mirror. “That’s it for today. One more session for the background elements and a few touch-ups should do it.”

“Incredible. Really just about the finest work I’ve seen.” He caught her eye in the mirror behind him. “Everything I’d heard about your talent is true. I’m honored to wear your ink, Rosie.”

She felt her cheeks warm, the warmth invading her belly, her chest. “Thank you.”

“I mean it.”

His face was so serious she wasn’t sure what to think. She watched as shadows passed over his strong features, then he seemed to shake off whatever it had been. But she was left with emotions ranging through her system. What was he thinking? Why did it matter so damn much?

She blinked at him, turned away and started to clean her station.

“Hey, I’ll do that, babe,” Sassy said, coming up behind her and grabbing the roll of paper towels from her hands. “Go say goodbye to your client.”

Rosie looked up at her, and Sassy raised her eyebrows, mouthed ‘go’.

“Let’s just get you covered up,” Rosie said to Finn.

Once she’d smeared his chest with ointment and covered it in plastic warp, Finn pulled his shirt back on, then his leather jacket. “Walk me out?”

“Sure.”

She grabbed her coat from the hook on the wall and they stepped out onto the street. It was beginning to get dark already, the streets quiet for once.

Finn wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulled her with him until they were out of view of the shop, then he swept her into his arms and kissed her. She melted into him—she couldn’t help it. His mouth was sweet, demanding.

When he pulled away he said to her, “Come to The Bastille with me tomorrow night.”

She smiled. “Is that an order?”

“If you like.”