Page 3 of Whimsical Ink

I managed to convince Ella to help me, and Oliver reluctantly gave me the go ahead with narrowed eyes.

I’m taking her to the bach and convincing her I made a bet with my sister that I need to win.

A bet about not being single.

Of course there isn’t a bet, and my family has no idea I’m bringing Maddy, but they’ll be pleased I finally asked her out. I’ve been talking about her long enough.

Why convince her to pretend to date me instead of asking her out like a normal and straightforward person? Good question.

It makes sense in my mind to do it this way, to test the waters and see if she’s interested in me, and if she isn’t, we’ll go back to normal. Her mostly ignoring me while I stare at her until Oliver punches me in the shoulder.

I don’t think either of them agree with my plan, but Ella got a look in her eyes which gave me hope, and they can hardly talk; they danced around each other for years before doing anything.

“You’re going to open the studio on your birthday, by yourself, while everyone else is shut and at the beach and your staff have the week off?”

“Yep.”

“What’s the point of opening? No one’s getting tattoos on Christmas Eve.”

She crosses her arms. “It gives me something to do.”

“Coming to the bach gives you something to do. It gives you time to relax, eat good food, and breathe some sea air for your constitution.” Have I ever sounded so pretentious?

My sister Emma reads those historical romance book things and they always want sea air to recover. Although Maddy works by the beach, so maybe it doesn’t matter?

Maddy smirks and bites her lip to cover the grin I know she’s trying to hide. “Sea air for my constitution?”

“Yep. Your sickly nature needs the air.”

“Rude.” She stands and turns her back to me, but she can’t hide the smile from her voice. Bag slung over her shoulder, she strides to the door. “Send me photos when your delicate constitution has been restored.”

I follow her outside like the puppy I am and wait as she locks the door to say, “I don’t look sickly. But you need a nap.”

“Thank you kindly for pointing out the circles under my eyes.”

“I meant the slumped shoulders and despair in your eyes.”

She blinks at me. “Have you seen your sister recently?”

“No. Why?” Is commenting on how tired someone looks not flirting?

“You’re too concerned about my constitution to not have seen her recently.”

“Well, come with me to the bach and she’ll tell you herself.”

“No, thanks.” She turns left and walks down the street, away from the beach and from me.

“Let me take you home, at least.”

She spins and walks backwards while I follow her. Brown hair whips in the wind and she tucks pieces behind her ears. “Don’t worry about me. I can get home fine.”

“I’m sure you can, but let me drive you anyway. Get out of the heat and into air-con.”

She waits until I catch up to her and pivots to walk normally. “Maybe I drove here and don’t need a ride.”

“I know you don’t own a car. You took the bus, didn’t you?” Our eyes lock in a staring contest and she glances away first. I knew it. “Come on, I parked a street over.”

“I’m fine walking.”

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