Page 5 of Tempting the Tender Guy: Imperfect Heroes

At his nod, I carefully clean the area and apply some ointment. While I’m bandaging him, I go over aftercare and then hand him the care pamphlet that lists everything I just told him.

Discarding my gloves, I accept a hearty handshake before he heads upfront to pay and schedule his next session.

Once he’s at the front desk, I start taking apart my station and cleaning up everything. The wrap comes off the chair easily and I dispose of the used needles in a sharps container before I move on to taking down the rest of my used materials. Slapping on a new pair of gloves, I spray everything down with a hospital-grade disinfectant and then peel those gloves off and sling them into the nearby trashcan.

Letting the disinfectant work its magic, I head toward the back room, nodding at Terry, another tattoo artist working in the shop today, on my way.

“Mack!”

At my name, I jerk to a stop and turn, almost bumping into our grinning receptionist.

Giggling, Kitty takes a step back. “Man, you were in another world! I called your name a few times.”

Shit. I hadn’t heard her at all.

“Yeah, a million miles away, I guess. Sorry about that.”

“No worries, there’s a call for you. A lady named Yvonne. She says it’s not about an appointment and doesn’t want to leave a message.” She rolls her eyes, her grin growing. “She needed to talk to you. Personally.” Kitty draws the word personally out, practically purring it.

It’s not unusual for us to get hit on at work. Obviously, we strive to keep things professional and not do anything that would warrant complaints. Such as no inappropriate touching or comments about clients’ bodies, smells, etc.. and definitely no PDA out in the open, even if we’re involved with a client. If we are interested in someone it’s on us to meet outside of work and arrange dates. We can do that by passing out our personal cell numbers.

I’ve only done that a single time and the significance of it went unnoticed by the woman I was interested in.

Oh she called me, just not for a date. She wanted to set up a time for another tattoo. In reality, I should have claimed to be completely booked, yet I set up the time for her. In the past few years, I’ve done several tattoos for her and for her friend.

Her friend Yvonne.

My brows pinch together as I wonder if she’s the Yvonne calling and for what reason. She’s never called me before.

“Thanks, Kitty.”

Taking the phone from her, I discreetly turn the volume up before putting it up to my ear. “Mack speaking.”

“Mack, hey! It’s Yvonne, Sadie’s friend.”

My gut tightens at Sadie’s name. “Hey, Yvonne, what can I do for you?”

I continue into the backroom and slump down into one of the soft leather chairs, rolling my neck as I do to ease a bit of the ache in it. Long hours hunched over doing tattoos puts a strain on my back, neck, and hands, and today I’m feeling it. I probably need to get back into yoga again to help keep me stretched out. I’m not getting any younger, but I’ve seen guys in their seventies still putting in eight hour sessions, so no excuses. I want to do my best for my clients, so I need to be at my best. That also means pushing some personal feelings aside.

“More like what I’m going to do for you,” Yvonne says.

My fingers clench on the phone. I never got that vibe from her at all. Though maybe she misinterpreted my interest in Sadie for interest in her.

As much as it hurts, this might be for the best.

I’ll let Yvonne down and she’ll report back to Sadie, as friends do, and I won’t see either of them again.

It’s been two years and if something was going to happen between myself and Sadie it would have happened already. I’m not getting any younger, so no sense hanging on to what ifs.

Tilting my head, I glare up at the ceiling and steel myself for an uncomfortable conversation. “Oh, and what’s that Yvonne?”

“A date with Sadie.”

Pain shoots through my neck as my head snaps down. Thinking I misheard her, that’s been happening a lot lately, I tread carefully. “A date?”

“Yes, a date with Sadie. You are interested in her, aren’t you?”

Does interest cover my conflicted feelings for Sadie?

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