He gave her nose a playful tap and went back to gazing at the view.

  For a moment she studied his profile. If she were able to draw like Shane, Carson, or Ivan, he would make the perfect male outline. Unfortunately, her artistic talent was limited to her ability to create a perfect cat’s eye with black liquid liner.

  “Ivan?”

  He shifted his focus to her and lifted his eyebrows.

  “Do you think the baby and Lindsay will be okay?”

  Somehow he always said the right thing. He considered his answers and never lied. “I don’t think they would have let her come home if it was really bad. I think they just need to take it easy.” He pursed his lips and glanced up to the overcast sky. “It makes sense. After all, she’s making a whole human being.”

  She stifled a smile and scooted a bit closer to him. Yes, he always said the right thing. “We have to make sure that we don’t give them any anxiety.”

  He nodded and pointed to the trees. “Look at the hummingbird.”

  Ivan always pointed the little floating birds out. Something about them fascinated him. She glanced at the bird with a smile and turned back to him, wishing she could see inside his mind. Was he thinking of them? The shop? Something completely different? “Are you cool? You had a lot put on you.”

  He shrugged.

  “We can do this, right?” Sure, she assisted Lindsay and Shane as her steady work between makeup jobs, but she’d never run anything, unless she counted her tights.

  “I think the shop sort of runs itself. We just have to make sure nothing gets screwed up.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “We should be okay. It’s only temporary.”

  No, she didn’t pull away. Everything with Ivan was always temporary, their relationship, the situation with the shop, but still she never could resist any attention he doled out to her. While she might be on a mission to change her life and focus on her career, in the matter of less than two hours she ended up right where she started. “It’s funny how fast things change.”

  He tensed and focused on her. “I know exactly how fast things can change.”

  All day her heart had teetered at the edge, wanting to fall and break. At the acknowledgement of his family tragedy, the poor organ surrendered. Maybe one day she would remember to think before saying something. She intertwined her fingers in his.

  As chance would have it, she happened to be with him the day his mother was killed in a car accident. It was his senior year in high school. One second they were at the game store, the next her parents were pulling up to get them. She still hated herself for being mad at her parents’ interruption. Emily considered it a date with the object of her crush, but then realized what happened.

  “I’m so dumb.” She slid over, wrapping her arms around him.

  “It’s fine.” He returned the favor and rubbed her back. “I hate when you call yourself dumb.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. Only a dumb person would break up with someone who never committed to her. Only a dumb person would compare a few weeks of inconvenience to the loss of a parent. Only a dumb person would never follow through with anything she wanted. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “Emily.” He took hold of her chin, forcing her to face him.

  Hell, only a dumb person would think Ivan was made for her. She resisted looking at him.

  “Emily.”

  As if he had her under a spell, she gazed into his eyes.

  “When are you going to realize how smart you are?” He pushed hair away from her face.

  “When I don’t start every day thinking about the stupid things I did the day before.” She took a breath, trying to cleanse her mind. “I’m sorry about what I said.”

  “You forget that you were the one who stayed with me every second.” He moved his face closer to hers, his breath brushing against her lips.

  “That didn’t take any brains.” She didn’t let him out of her sight. For two weeks, she moved into his house and took care of him and his dad. At ten, she dubbed herself the woman of his house, a title she always wanted on a permanent basis.

  “You always underestimate yourself. I try not to think back, but when I do, I always see you.” He pulled her in and gave her a light kiss.

  Funny, all those years she’d secretly committed to him in her mind, turned out to be the exact reason she had to end their non-committal relationship. He wouldn’t give her the last bit and damn it, she wanted it all. Though she wanted to resist his lips, she returned his kiss.

  He moaned and leaned her back on the blanket, tilting his head and giving her only enough time to inhale before he returned his mouth to hers. His kiss was different, demanded more, spoke of what he needed, wanted. As a teen she fantasized about his kisses, but reality far outshined her dreams. His taste was sweet and manly, his mouth, strong. There had never been awkwardness in any of their kisses. He knew her, knew how to make her tingle, how to make her want him. Immediately, her body sizzled as it molded to his. Though she knew every inch, she still wanted to explore. “Please.”

  “Em.” He snaked his hand under her shirt, grazing her breast.

  She scratched her nails across his scalp. The last time they made love there, they ran back to her place and made love again. Ivan said the outdoors opened his appetite.

  Trained to react to his touch, her body flooded and her heart sped up. All she ever wanted was Ivan. Maybe they could come to a solution that didn’t require being apart.

  He trailed a series of kisses down her neck. “Something about being out here with you opens my appetite.”

  “What?” She leaned up on her elbows.

  “Remember last time?” He pulled his shirt over his head. “It can be the same.”

  She stared down at his tattoos. Each one she knew by heart. Those he covered with clothes etched his history on his body, like images designed to ground him. Portrait work of his parents’ wedding picture, his childhood dog, and artsy black and white work of the four Elliott siblings graced the right side of his chest and stomach. She always assumed he left the other side for his future.

  “What about earlier?” She had to ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  For once in her life she needed to be smart. Think beyond the instant gratification and go after what she wanted. “When we talked in the shop.”

  He braced his arms on either side of her, and blinked as if he didn’t recall their conversation.

  “Ivan, come on.” Did she have to repeat the whole thing?

  “What do you want? Things are good, why not let them be?”

  “I need things to change.” She dug her nails into the blanket. Only hours after breaking up with him, she was fighting to be his again.

  “Other things may change in a blink of an eye, but we don’t have to.” He pushed back and sat near her legs.

  “Who do you see when you look at me?”

  He squared his jaw.

  “Who is it, Ivan? The Emily who can satisfy you like no one else?” She quoted what he told her many times over, then arched her back showing off the assets he adored. “Or the ten-year-old who ran around in an apron, cooking and cleaning and praying you’d look my way?”

  “I see someone who needs to grow up and deal with what she’s dealt. Not every change is an adventure.” He grabbed his shirt. “Don’t make plans. They never work out.”

  “No matter what, I’ll always be eight years behind you.” Even in the cool breeze, she broke out into a sweat. Before she slammed her fist into something, she stood. “I’ll always be an Elliott.”

  “Something we can’t control.” He got up as well.

  “I’m going to work at the accounting office tomorrow.” She turned to him. “Stay away from me.”

  “If that’s what you want.” He gathered up the blanket. “We had it good, Em.”

  “We were stagnant.” With or without Ivan she needed change.

  Chapter Two

  The tattoo shop ran itself.

  Ivan repeated that mantra over and over again from the moment he dropped Emily off without a word the night before, during his whole sleepless night in bed, and as he drove up to Permanent. He did not think about Emily. No. If she wanted to have a chick issue, she could have it without him. The weeks ahead were bound to be a little hectic, and she would come running to him looking for stress relief in no time.

  “The shop runs itself.” He parked his bike, picked up his bag of tricks and let himself in through the back door. His first customer would be there within thirty minutes. All he needed to do was set up, give some ominous looks to the other artists, and everything would run on a nice smooth track.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Tamsin Webb slammed her hand on the doorjamb right by his head.

  He jumped back and rubbed the side of his head. She’d caught a couple strands of hair in the attack. As a redirect, he held up the bag in his hand. “Bagels.” Fine, he’d resorted to one of Shane’s tricks and yes, he picked up a chocolate chip bagel for Emily. If he saw Emily.

  “Don’t ply me with your circles of dough. You’re late. Shane always gets here by ten to deal with things.”

  He pursed his lips and checked the clock on the wall, 11:45. They had fifteen minutes to deal with these so-called things before he needed to do his own work. “What things?”

  She pointed behind her. “There is a call holding for you, the autoclave won’t turn on, and we have two walk-ins waiting outside the building.”

  Before jumping in, he did as any businessman would do and assessed the situation. Three things. Minor things. Not a problem. For the most part, the shop ran itself. “Who’s on the phone?”

  “Do I look like your secretary?” She narrowed her eyes.

  He stepped backward, nearly tripping and falling outside. No, Tamsin was no secretary. In fact, with her short blonde hair, tattoos and hard body, she could be more of personal trainer or bouncer. “You look like a tattoo artist.” He tried a grin.

  “The smile only works with Shane.” She moved aside.

  “Why is that?” He sidestepped around her.

  “He would have been here dealing with all the crap.” Once more she pointed to the front.

  “I’m on it.” While he made his way to the front, he scanned the stations, waving to the other artists along the way. Alfred had already started his day with a customer at his station, and Carl was setting up.

  Without a second glance, he passed their newest addition to the Permanent crew, Billy. Shane’s latest protégée and resident portrait expert came from the east coast, and received attention from anything with boobs. All the women joked that Billy needed to be on the cover of a romance novel. As far as Ivan was concerned they could have the quiet, brooding boy. If the man ever learned to speak, maybe he would return the favor. Maybe.

  At the front, he picked up the phone, holding it away from his ear, avoiding the loud beeping landlines made when they were left off the hook. “Problem one solved.” He hung up the phone and turned to find Tamsin right behind him.

  “The walk-ins.” She lifted her chin toward the front door.

  “No problem.” He shooed her away. “You take one and let Billy boy take one.”

  “I have a customer coming and I’m still not your secretary. Talk to Billy yourself.” She spun on her heel and stomped away.

  “I also have a customer!” He hit the desk and looked toward the back. “Booker!” he shouted. No way would he call this guy Billy unless he planned on handing him a lollipop to go with his name.

  In what seemed to take twenty times longer than necessary, the man sauntered to the front. No doubt the women would describe his walk as gliding.

  “How are Shane and his wife?” Billy shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “Lindsay.” Even the simple act of the man asking a question grated on him. Shifty. The man was shifty. “Her name is Lindsay, and you have two walk-ins.” Delegation was the key to any situation.

  “I don’t do flash,” he said and looked down at the floor. “Or walk-ins.”

  Ivan let out a chuckle and leaned on the counter. “Here’s the deal, we all do walk-ins, and if that requires flash then that’s how the story goes.” Of course, he didn’t do flash or walk-ins, but he was in charge.

  “Shane and I discussed my rules.” Finally, the man looked at him.

  Seriously? Done with being second guessed, he stomped toward him. “I’m not Shane. And if you call and stress him or Lindsay out, then I have the authority to tell you to get a job at another studio.”

  “I’ll make an exception because it’s your first day,” the man said then strolled to the door.

  “I’m the one making the exception.” Ivan glared him down, waiting to move until the jerk let the customers in the door. “Get to work.” He went back to the autoclave and tested it. Indeed the machine would not turn on and he crouched down to inspect the back, glancing again at the clock. Any minute his customer would arrive and he needed to prepare.

  The phone rang.

  Once.

  Twice.

  A third time.

  “I know no one here is my secretary, but will anyone who is not fixing something or inking something answer the damn thing?” He wanted to ram his head into the wall. How did Shane ever find the time to tattoo anything?

  “I got it!” The voice of an angel rang through the shop.

  “She came to her senses,” he whispered. As if the heavens had opened up with Emily’s arrival, he noticed the autoclave was merely unplugged. Shane specifically said they were to work together and she always listened to her big brother. He remedied the situation with the autoclave and pushed up, wanting to get a glimpse of her. Ivan vowed to only torture her for a minute for starting his day alone.

  At last he spotted her, a light shining bright and pink with the phone to her ear as she wrote on a scrap paper. She hung up and walked to him.

  His arms hurt from wanting to hold her in the worst way. There in the shop, he could give her a hug and no one would be the wiser or suspect he’d robbed the cradle.

  “Hey.”

  She nodded in his direction and went directly to Tamsin. The woman hugged her and Emily gave her the note.

  Okay. Torture went both ways. He crossed his arms and waited for his appearance before the princess.

  After tending to Tamsin, she doled out attention to Alfred, and Carl, and practically skipped over to Billy at the printer making stencils.

  All right. He didn’t hang around the Elliotts for over fifteen years and not know the rules of their game. Though he did nothing wrong, he needed to go to her. The entire family possessed the same annoying trait. Maybe he shouldn’t go. Still, he found himself walking over to her. “Saving the best for last?”

  She peeked at him with a soft smile, one that told him she didn’t know what to say. “I was at the accounting office all morning, but I wanted to say hi to everyone. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, fine, whatever.” Out of the corner of his eye he watched Billy with the stencils. Something seemed off.

  “Did you see the story on Twisted Tattoo in the weekly paper?” She shifted her focus to Billy then back to him.

  “Not yet, I haven’t had a chance to take a breath.” He narrowed his eyes trying to give her a signal. All he needed was that rival studio garnering publicity without Shane, the media star, available.

  “Maybe we can call Jake and get him to do a story here.” With a slight nod she tapped Billy’s shoulder. “Can I see?”

  “It’s just some flash.” He handed her the stencils.

  Once Emily flipped through the pages he spied the issue but remained quiet, wondering if she would catch it. Either way he had what he needed on Mr. Pretty Boy.

  “Is this all their paperwork?” Emily turned over one of the sheets.

  Ivan covered his mouth to hide a smile. She might not know it, but the woman could run a tattoo shop with the best of them.

  “I’m getting them ready.” Billy held his hand out. “I just need to get them done.”

  “We don’t make stencils until the customer has signed off on the art and filled out the consent document.” She kept hold of the pages. “Also, we don’t want any mistakes, so even if you have two customers coming in together we keep everything separate.”

  If he and Emily were back to normal, he would have corralled her into the storage room and taken the opportunity to cop a few feels. “Also no rushing no matter what the case.”

  “I told you I don’t do flash and walk-ins.” Billy squared his shoulders.

  “And I told you that as long as I’m in charge, you do,” Ivan shot back.

  “Before I go back to the accounting office, let me help you.” Emily motioned for Billy to follow her.

  “Emily.” Ivan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. How could he explain that he needed her there, and not locked away in the office?

  She stopped and turned back. “I’ll be in the next office over.”

  “I’ll be here,” he said, wondering if it was better to just let things be the way they were.

  Emily took Billy to the front as the bell on the front door chimed and Ivan’s customer entered.

  The second he lifted his hand to wave, the lights and electricity went out.

  “We blew a fuse, maybe that’s why the autoclave was unplugged,” Tamsin called out. “You need to fix that.”

  He put his hands on top of his head making sure his brain remained in his skull. “The shop is supposed to run itself!”

  “Who the hell told you that?” Tamsin laughed.

  “I did.” He watched Emily leave and went to go fix the damn fuse.

  ~~*~~

  Ivan parked his SUV in the lot and rested his head on the steering wheel. The mystery of why Shane never took up motorcycles was solved. With the errands, the schlepping, the back and forth with every bag and box, a bike was completely impractical.

 

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