She grew up real nice. He shook his head forcefully. Damnit! This is Ryan's little sister. He couldn't go there. Even though he was drawn to her, and he suspected she was to him, he couldn't start anything with her. Ryan would kill me. I just have to forget about her.
He prepared his room, then went to the front. Only one of the guys was sitting on the couch. "My buddy went with the other dude," he said.
Goldie nodded and motioned him to follow. I always call my customers after they get a tattoo. I'll give her a quick call tomorrow and then it'll be done. What's one call going to hurt?
Resolute in his decision, he motioned for the guy to sit in the chair, and then he closed the door.
Chapter Two
Hailey groaned when she turned on her back in bed. Rolling to her left side, she glanced at her digital clock and grimaced: five thirty. The area where she got her tattoo throbbed, so she pushed herself out of bed and padded to the bathroom to take two Tylenols. I can't believe I got a tattoo on my butt. I can't believe I let that gorgeous guy see my butt, and touch it. She silently swore she'd never drink White Russians again. She'd lost her head the previous night. And Rory and Claudia were just as much to blame as she was. They pushed me into doing it. But she knew she was more than willing. She'd wanted one for such a long time but never had the nerve to do it, especially when she'd been living with her parents in Albuquerque.
After filling the glass with water, she downed the Tylenol, then went back to bed. It was Sunday morning and she wanted to sleep in. It was the only day she had off from the flower shop she was running for her aunt Patty. It'd been eight months since she'd come back to Alina-her hometown. She wasn't sure how she'd feel about it, but she had to admit it was great being back with her two best friends, Rory and Claudia. The three of them had known each other since they were old enough to walk, and even though they'd kept up with each other through social media, it wasn't the same as being together again in the same town.
Closing her eyes, she hoped sleep would come, but the handsome face of the tattoo artist stayed in her mind. He was definitely hot, with his muscled chest and his tight, sculpted biceps. She was a sucker for a man's biceps, and the cutie from the previous night had the best pair of arms she'd seen in a very long time. Maybe even the best ever.
But it hadn't stopped there. His face was smooth and clean-shaven, just the way she liked it. So many men had scruff, but she loved to run her fingers over a freshly shaved face. When she'd first seen him, his blue eyes pierced her like shards of ice on a wintry day. It was like he was trying to see inside her core, her essence. It both unnerved and excited her at the same time. He had a nice sprinkling of tattoos on his built arms, and she found herself sneaking peeks at him whenever he wasn't looking. His jaw was square and his cheekbones high, but it was his full lips that beckoned her. I bet they're soft but firm. He struck her as a man who would know how to please a woman.
Tingles skated across her skin as she imagined being in his arms, his mouth pressed against hers, her body fused to his. She licked her lips. I really need to get laid. I've been here for eight months and haven't even kissed a guy. The problem was that she was so busy at the flower shop, and the men who did approach her just didn't do it for her. They didn't spark anything in her to make it worth her while. No one really had except for the rough, sexy tattoo artist. Just thinking about him made her shiver all over.
He probably has a girlfriend. And he's probably a cheat. A guy that good-looking never has a shortage of women.
The vibration of her phone startled her. Who in the hell is calling me at this hour? Warmth flooded her when she saw Ryan's name flash on her screen.
"Do you know what time it is?" She tried to sound pissed but failed miserably.
"It's a quarter to three in the afternoon in Bahrain." His chuckle rumbled over the phone.
She winced when she rolled onto her back and quickly turned back to her side. "You're in Bahrain? Are you on leave?"
"Yeah. A few of us are here for four days. I'd rather be in Alina though. You getting used to being back?"
"I am. I'm just so busy all the time with Aunt Patty's shop. She didn't listen to the doctor and went back to work, and then she had to get another operation. I told her I could take care of everything and for her to relax and stay off her leg."
"Aunt Patty was always stubborn. She kinda reminds me of a sister of mine." Ryan laughed.
She giggled. "I would've at least listened to the doctor. Anyway, she's in rehab for about nine months and she's climbing the walls. When are you going to come home for a visit?" Hailey hated thinking of him fighting overseas. She was just as upset as their mother when he'd enlisted in the Army when he turned twenty. Even though he'd tell her not to worry, she couldn't help it; he was always in the back of her mind. She wished he hadn't reenlisted a couple of years before, but he did and she just had to deal with it.
"I may be able to take two weeks off this summer. I'll let you know."
"Summer is just around the corner. That'd be awesome! I miss you so much, and so do Mom and Dad." She blinked rapidly to stave off the tears.
"I know. I'd love to come to Alina and see some old faces. It's been a long time since I was there."
"I've been meaning to ask you for Garth's phone number. I keep forgetting to get it every time we text or e-mail."
"You don't want to look him up. He's in a biker club now. A badass one, as in dangerous and doing all sorts of illegal shit."
"But you're still friends with him."
"Of course. We've been buds since we were in first grade. I'm just saying there's no reason for you to look him up. He's got a ton of women around him all the time, and he's busy as hell with his club."
She laughed. "I wouldn't be looking him up to date. I just thought it'd be nice to connect with someone who knows you and can talk about you. It'd be like you were here. I know that sounds silly."
"It does. I have to go. Don't work too hard. You've got to have some fun too."
"I know. I loved talking to you. Take care of yourself."
After she placed the phone on the nightstand, she grabbed a tissue and blew her nose, then wiped her wet eyes. She and Ryan were close even though there was a four year difference between them. When she was younger, he used to take her to get ice cream, to Overland Lake to swim, and all the other things a teenage brother wouldn't be caught dead doing with his little sister.
Smiling at the memories of their childhood, she pulled out another tissue and dabbed the corners of her eyes.
Then the face of Garth Saner floated through her head. She'd had the worst crush on him, starting when she was eleven years old up until the time they had to move to Albuquerque. She'd thought he was the best-looking boy in the neighborhood. He'd always been nice to her, especially when she'd started growing breasts. When she turned thirteen, she caught him glancing at her chest more times than she could count. It used to make her feel funny, and a fluttery feeling in her stomach made her turn away from him when he'd come over to hang out with Ryan. When she'd entered Jefferson High School, she'd get a burning sensation in her chest every time she saw him with his arm around a girl or caught them kissing near the bleachers. She didn't know why she cared, but she did, so she avoided him as best she could. Then halfway through her freshman year, her father was transferred to Albuquerque.
I wonder what he looks like now. He's probably still a player, breaking all the girls' hearts like he did in high school. Picturing him in a biker gang was easy because he'd had a bad-boy edge about him when they were growing up. He got in trouble a lot at school because of fighting, mouthing off to teachers, and smoking on school grounds. He was a definite rebel. Part of her wanted to ignore Ryan's warnings and try to locate Garth, but she knew she wouldn't.
As her thoughts slowed down, she felt drowsy. Pulling the sheets over her shoulder, she closed her eyes and let sleep settle in.
* * *
When she heard the vibration, she sat up in bed, the late spring sunlight beating against her window shades. For a few seconds she was disoriented and thought a bee was in her room. As she swatted at the air, the vibrating sounded muffled and she looked under her covers, petrified that a bee had somehow ended up trapped in her Martha Stewart lilac sheets. When she saw her phone, peals of laughter burst from her.
"Hello?" She giggled.
"Do you always sound this cheerful in the morning after having a tattoo?"
A rush of adrenaline surged through her. The tattoo guy. Fuck. "It's the only way to deal with the pain." What a stupid lame answer.
He chuckled. "How're you doing? Do you still have the bandage on?"
"Uh … yeah. I was sorta sleeping when you called."
"Sorry. I should've figured you would be after your night out. You and your friends definitely had a party going on."
"Last time I drink White Russians. They make me do crazy things, like have my butt tattooed." I can't believe he called me. Wait. Don't jump to conclusions. It's his job to see how his customers are doing. This is routine.