Since my parents had arrived the week before, we’d been busy getting the shop ready to open and making wedding plans. Mila had been so busy, she only saw her parents whenever the moms needed her input on something. So far, they hadn’t stressed her out once over the wedding preparations. I put that down to Dad watching them like hawks the entire time, though. He promised me he wouldn’t let them get out of hand like they had with Lucy’s wedding before she practically had a nervous breakdown over the whole thing.
“I didn’t realize I had an appointment, babe,” I called back. Dropping my pencil, I walked out of my office.
Mila stood behind the counter, her back to me as she looked up at the men standing in the front of the shop. Her uncles were back, it seemed, along with her father. This time, Masterson was standing by Mila’s picture I’d bought from the woman at the deli, tracing his index finger over the artwork.
“How did you convince Miss Patty to give this to you?” my father-in-law-to-be asked, turning to face his daughter and me.
“Money talks,” I said with a shrug. Kissing the top of Mila’s head, I looked down at the appointment book in front of her. “What’s up, babe?”
Her gray eyes lifted from watching her uncle Bash flip through one of the books with pictures of my work in it. “We seem to have a walk-in. Think you have time to take care of them?”
“Which one?” I asked, glancing from her uncle Bash to her uncle Hawk then to her dad.
“Figured I needed to make sure you could provide for my little girl,” Masterson said. “Which means I need to see for myself what kind of skills you have.”
I gave him a grin. “You know what you want?”
“Surprise me,” he said, challenging me with the look in his eyes.
Mentally groaning, I kissed Mila again. “You taking it easy out here?” I asked, turning my full focus on her.
She rolled her pretty eyes at me. “Yeah, babe, I’m fine. I’ve been sitting out here taking calls and working on this new computer system you have. I haven’t even broken a sweat.”
“Good. Why don’t you go get something to eat? Or you can go back to the house and talk wedding details with our moms and Aunt Emmie.” I kissed her once more, unable to stop myself. I was surprised her lips weren’t raw from all the kisses I gave her throughout the day.
“Actually, I was going to meet up with Monroe for a late lunch.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door, but I stopped her, exchanging the keys to her little sports car for the ones to the SUV. “You said one of your tires was low this morning,” I reminded her.
“But I could have dealt with it. Uncle Bash is right here—”
“I’ll stop by the garage on the way home and get you four new tires,” I interrupted. “I’d feel better if you drove the SUV anyway. It has better safety features.”
She rolled her eyes again but stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips over mine. “Drive carefully. I’ll see you tonight.” Glancing at the others, she waved. “Bye, Dad.”
“Be careful, Mila,” Masterson told her as she left. Once the door was closed behind her, he turned to me. “You even going to be able to fit in her car?”
“I’ll figure it out,” I told him.
What I really wanted was to push her car off a cliff so I could get her something bigger and safer without her making a fuss over it.
The one she had was a cute sporty little thing, way too fast for her for my peace of mind. Why her dad let her have it to begin with was beyond me, but I was sure she’d batted her long lashes at him and got her way. She tried to pull that stuff on me, and while at times I wanted to give in just to make her smile, when it came to her safety, that shit didn’t fly.
“You sure about surprising you?” I changed the subject. “You gonna slit my throat if you don’t like it?”
“Not making any promises,” he said with a smirk.
Laughing, I walked back to my office and pulled up a piece I’d been working on for my dad. It was going to be a surprise for him, but it was a good piece, and I could design him something else before his birthday. Something better. Printing it off, I got everything else I needed ready before going back out front.
“You going to watch?” I asked the other two men. “Or do you want something of your own?”
“Spider does all of our work,” Hawk said, even though his eyes kept going back to my artwork books. “And now, Maverick too.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t try out all the skills in the family,” I said with a knowing smirk at them both. They’d practically been drooling over some of my pieces, and I knew they each wanted one.
There was hunger in their eyes, the need to have their skin inked again. It was addictive, the feel of the needle, the sight of the ink mixed with blood as a piece of their soul came to life. I knew and understood that addiction better than anyone, and it was one I was never going to give up.
Three hours later, the ink was done, and Masterson was inspecting the skull on his left shoulder. The skull was the face of a clock, but there were no hands, because time was meaningless anyway.
“Fuck, that looks good,” Bash said as he studied the enforcer’s new ink. “Admit it, Spider. The kid has some skills.”
Masterson clenched his jaw for a moment, then nodded as he turned to face me. “You think you would apprentice Maverick?”
“Thought he already apprenticed under you.” I started cleaning up my workstation.
“He did, and he’s good, but if you teach him your skills too, he would be even better.”
I paused what I was doing and looked up at the man in surprise, knowing what he’d just said was a compliment and it must have cost him to say it out loud, especially in front of his MC brothers. “Yeah. I’ll apprentice him if he wants me to.”
“And I was thinking,” Masterson said, sitting back in the chair so I could tape on some gauze. “If you still want to be partners—”
“I do,” I told him before he could even finish. “I want Mila to be happy. Us working together, being a family, that’s what will make her happy.”
“If you still want to be partners, we can make it work,” he continued. “You can still keep this place, and I’ll run my shop. Maverick can go between the two, wherever he’s needed.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” I agreed. “Let me talk to my aunt, and she can figure out the numbers for me to buy in.”
“You’re not buying in,” he said with a firm shake of his head. “Consider it a wedding present.”
“I can afford to buy in,” I tried to argue, but he lifted a hand, cutting me off.
“You are family now, boy. You aren’t buying in to anything.” He pulled his shirt back on and stood. “Hawk will have Gracie draw up the contracts and you can get your lawyer to look them over, but I won’t screw you over, boy. Willa would kick my ass if I even tried.”
Standing, I held out my hand to him. “Thank you, sir,” I told him sincerely. “This means a lot to me—and to Mila.”
“Her happiness is all that really matters,” he said, his face thoughtful. After a moment, he shook his head as if to clear it and looked at the other two men. “Well? You two getting ink or what?”
When I got home that evening, my parents and Aunt Emmie were in the living room with Willa. The four of them were spread around the large room, each of them with legal pads in their laps, but it seemed more storytelling was going on than actual wedding work.
“Good to see you getting along so well,” I commented as I glanced around at their grinning faces after walking in on them laughing their heads off at some story Dad had been telling. No doubt about whatever trouble Luca had gotten us both into when we were stupid kids.
“Lyric, honey,” Willa said with a soft laugh that reminded me of her daughter’s sweet giggle. “I thought my kids kept me on my toes when they were tiny, but apparently you and that twin of yours take the cake.”
“Thick as thieves,” Mom said with a resigned sigh, shaking her head at me. “And as full of tricks as Houdini.”
“Through thick and thin,” I said with a wink at her. “Most of the time, at least.”
Her still-beautiful face became sad. “Yeah. He’s a hot mess, isn’t he?”
Not wanting to think about Luca’s problems, I looked around for Mila. “Where’s my bride?”
Willa’s brows pulled together as she looked up at me. “I thought she was with you at the shop.”
“She left this afternoon to have lunch with Monroe while I gave the Angels tats.”
“I knew that husband of mine couldn’t resist getting some new ink,” she said with a snort.
While she and Aunt Emmie talked tattoos, unease twisted my gut, and I grabbed my phone, hitting Mila’s name. It went straight to voice mail without even ringing. “She was charging it before she left, so I know that damn thing isn’t dead,” I muttered to myself, clenching and unclenching my free hand into a fist at my side. I tried calling again, hoping it was just an issue with her phone and the call would go through this time. But it went to voice mail immediately once again.