Page 2 of Ink

Ink follows behind. “I need a few screws and some sandpaper tonight. Turns out that the whole cabin needs renovation. How are your renos going?”

I only know Ink from the hardware store. He comes in once a day looking for random shit. The first time we met, he bought rope and a chain. I made up a story in my head about all the freaky stuff he must be into. Though, the next day, when he came in for new drill bits, he told me his tractor got stuck in the field.

Boring! I much prefer the version of him where he’s a domineering ass spanker with a filthy mouth.

Tucking behind the register, I scan his items and recite the total.

Ink glances down at my paperwork as he pulls out his credit card. “You gotta be exhausted doing double time like this. That why you’re sick? Stress?”

I laugh and glance up at him, rubbing my hand over my stomach. “Yeah… try pregnant.”

“What?” His gaze widens. “Really?”

I nod. “Four months yesterday. People keep telling me this whole morning sickness thing stops after the first trimester, but here I am, still vomiting at the slight whiff of anything repulsive.”

“Congratulations.” He nods his head to the side. “On the baby, not the vomiting. You and your partner must be really excited.”

“Nope. There’s no partner. Just me.”

Another slow nod. “Well, the baby must have a father, right? That’s how it works.” He laughs. “Last I checked anyway.”

I toss his items in a bag and hand it toward him. “Not anymore. I mean, I could’ve gone to the clinic and had them turkey baster a baby right in me. Never know these days.”

“Did you?”

I shake my head. “No, but I could’ve.”

“Who’s the father then?”

I raise my brows. “Damn! I’ve met you what… three times? That’s a little personal, isn’t it?”

“I just held your hair back while you threw up. I thought maybe we were past the pleasantries and into the good stuff.”

I like the way he thinks.

“The guy that donated his sperm is a complete asshole, so he’s not worth mentioning.”

“That sucks. So, he’s out of the picture completely?” He brushes his hand down over his salt and pepper beard.

Good Lord, why is that so hot?

“Yes, sort of. Mostly. Yes, kinda.”

He laughs. “Sounds complicated.”

“Not really.” I shrug and curl up my lip. “He’s a clinger. I haven’t told him I’m pregnant.” I hold up my hand. “I know that sounds awful, but if you knew this guy, you’d get it.”

“I’m sure I would, Bunny.”

There it is again. That name. The name that makes my pussy twinge.

“You’ve called me that the last few times we’ve spoken. Why?”

He nods toward the lapel on my sweater. “You have a bunny on your collar. Does it bother you? I can stop.”

I glance down at the cardigan I toss over my shoulders every day when I get to work. Sure enough, there’s a little white bunny. I’m a little disappointed that the name hasn’t come to him because of something specific that I do. “No, I like it. I’ve never had a nickname before. It’s cool that all you MC guys get fun names.”

“Well, Ink isn’t very creative.” He laughs. “I guess Bunny isn’t either.”

---