Page 8 of Ink

And that was the problem. Charlie knew that Zeb could pop up at any time. Having a restraining order against him didn’t mean that he’d respect or follow it. In fact, she was sure that given the chance, he’d ignore the restraining order altogether.

“You must be Charlie,” a woman said when she walked into Ink’s office.

“Um, where is Ink?” Charlie asked.

“He had to run out for a few minutes, but he said to tell you that he’d be right back,” the woman said.

“Okay, who are you then?” Charlie questioned.

“Oh, yeah, how rude of me.” The woman stood and offered her hand to Charlie. “I’m Cynthia. I’m a friend of Ink’s from down at the club.” Charlie shook the woman’s hand and nodded, although none of this made any sense to her. If she was such a good friend of Inks, why hadn’t she met Cynthia yet?

“I haven’t seen you around the club,” Charlie challenged.

“Yeah, that’s because I’ve been out of town for a few months—family issues and all that,” Cynthia explained.

“Oh, so you’re married then?” Charlie asked.

Cynthia’s laughter filled the room. “Um, no,” she said. “My parents live in California, so I had to go out there for a while. My dad fell and my mother couldn’t take care of him on her own.”

“I see,” Charlie mumbled. She wasn’t sure why she felt so disappointed that Cynthia wasn’t married. “So, why are you here if Ink is out?” God, she sounded bitchy even to her own ears. She wasn’t usually like this with other women, but then, she hadn’t ever found another woman in Ink’s office before. The fact that she was absolutely gorgeous and looked just like the type of woman a biker like Ink would fall for, didn’t help her green-eyed monster.

“Ink has hired me to be one of his new artists. He said that he had too much work and not enough time, and I plan on staying in town for a while, so I said that I’d lend a hand with his workload.” Charlie just bet that she’d lend Ink a hand. She looked Cynthia over, noting her colorful tattoos that ran up and down her arms. She even had one that ran up the side of her neck, and if Charlie was a betting woman, she’d guess that Ink’s new employee had more tattoos hiding under her clothing—well, what little bit she had on.

“I like your tattoos,” Charlie whispered.

“Oh, thanks,” Cynthia said. “Ink has done most of them.” The thought of him seeing other parts of Cynthia’s body madeCharlie feel sick. “Are you all right? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“I’m sure that it’s just morning sickness. It seems to happen at all hours of the day, even now. I think I’ll go to the bathroom, just in case.” Charlie practically ran to the bathroom and shut the door and locked it. Maybe she was acting like a child, but she didn’t care. She didn’t plan on coming back out until Cynthia was gone. Then, she’d tell Ink that she decided to move out. Where she’d go was a mystery, since she had given up her apartment a month ago. Ink convinced her to stay with him until after the baby came and Charlie could get back on her feet. She took him up on his generous offer, but now, she saw that was a mistake. She wouldn’t stick around and watch Ink and Cynthia together—it would be too much for her heart to take.

After spending about ten minutes in her self-imposed prison, she heard Ink’s voice asking where she was and Charlie worried that her hiding time was up. Cynthia told him that she went to the bathroom, not feeling well, and within seconds, Ink was pounding on the door, telling her to come out.

“I’m not feeling well,” she lied. Well, maybe it was partially true. She felt sick to her stomach thinking about Ink with his new employee.

“All the more reason to let me in. I want to make sure that you’re okay, Charlie,” he insisted. She knew that Ink was an impatient man—well, except for when it came to her. He was taking his sweet time trying to get Charlie into his bed and now, she knew why. He was sleeping with Cynthia. He had to be. Why else would he touch her, kiss her, and lead her on if he didn’t want her? Maybe he changed his mind about Charlie as soon as he found out that Cynthia was back in town.

“Are you sleeping with her?” Charlie asked through the door. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know his answer, but she couldn’t take not knowing another minute.

“I’m going to get out of here, Ink, so you two can talk,” Cynthia said. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Thanks, Cynthia,” Ink said, still not answering Charlie’s question. She waited until she heard the bell over the front door chime before she asked him the same question again.

“Are you sleeping with her?” she almost whispered.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Charlie?” he asked.

“I’m talking about you and Cynthia. She told me that you two are friends and that you’ve done most of her tattoos, but I think she was secretly trying to say that you two were an item.” She felt foolish explaining all this to him, but she needed to know, for the sake of her own sanity.

“No, I’m not sleeping with her. I’ve never hooked up with Cynthia and I have no desire to. She’s more like a little sister to me than anything. I met her when I first moved to town, and we became friends. But then, she went to California to help her parents, so I haven’t seen her in months,” Ink assured.

“But then, why did you hire her?” Charlie asked.

“Because she’s a damn good tattoo artist and I thought that by hiring her, I could spend more time with you and the baby when she gets here in a few weeks,” he explained. Shit—why did he have to go and be so sweet while she was acting like a complete jackass? It would have been easier to stay mad at him than to feel bad about asking him all her silly questions.

“You did?” she asked.

“For fucks sake,” he breathed, “just open the fucking door, Charlie. I don’t want to have this conversation through a wall. I want to be face to face when I tell you that I’m falling in love with you.” Her breath caught and Charlie had to remind herself to breathe.

“Did you just say that you’re falling in love with me?” she asked.

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