Page 19 of Fallen Ink

He quickly cleaned up George, knowing they wouldn’t be able to finish today. The other man and Shep’s client were understanding, but he knew if something didn’t change, the shop would be dealing with even more issues soon. If word got out that they were having cleanliness issues as a tattoo shop? They’d be screwed.

“Go home,” Adrienne said an hour later when Mr. Berry was done. “No use in you staying when we’re so quiet for the night. Ryan’s on his way in, and we’re still open so he’ll be able to finish an appointment.” There was such defeat in her voice that Mace knew she probably needed time to herself so she could get through whatever was going on in her head before she faced the next step—whatever that was.

“I can stay. There’s plenty of things to do. Though, thankfully, the list the asshole gave you wasn’t that long.” He didn’t have anything on his schedule now at the shop since he should have been working on George. With that off the table thanks to the unplanned and unnecessary visit, he would only be working on walk-ins with Ryan and Adrienne.

She looked down at the paper in her hand and scowled. “There’re two things on here and they aren’t even marks, just suggestions for better practice. The man looked annoyed that he even had to come here at all and said he’d look into who thought it would be a good idea to waste his time, but it still pisses me off.”

Shep leaned against the wall near them and frowned. “Someone is out to get us. That’s what it feels like. And, yeah, it makes me sound like I’m talking about the mob or some shit like that but it took us four extra months to even get this place built, and now that we’re here, we’ve had issue after issue, and all things that are meant to keep people away. I don’t like this. Not one bit.”

Mace didn’t either, and it made him even more reluctant to leave. But with Adrienne so closed-off, and since the only way he knew to make her feel better was to kiss that frown off her face, he figured he should leave her with her brother and Ryan so she could think through her feelings.

“We’ll figure it out,” Adrienne said, still scowling. “We’re Montgomerys. We don’t take shit from other people.”

“Hell yeah,” Shep said before squeezing her shoulder and going up to the front where his next client was coming in. Thankfully, they hadn’t had to cancel everything.

“I’ll head home and hang with Daisy,” Mace said. “Pick her up from the parents early.” He nudged Adrienne with his shoulder. “I made stew in the Crock-Pot before I left, so come over when you’re done since you’re not closing. I’ll even let you have the ends of the French bread I bought.”

She laughed softly, and he relaxed. If she could laugh, even a little, then she’d be okay. He just hoped they could figure out exactly what was going on—at the shop and between them.

“Stew sounds good,” she said.

Mace had known things would get complicated once they started this new path of their lives, but as things kept coming at them, he had a feeling he’d only scratched the surface of how things would be changing.

He nodded and then said his goodbyes before heading to his parents’ so he could pick up Daisy. He was afraid he’d never be able to fully comprehend or appreciate how his life had changed. He now had her in his life every day rather than just on the phone when he wanted to talk to her.

“I like stew,” Daisy said, peering over the counter as she stood on the tiny black and purple pop-up stool he’d bought at the hardware store. “It’s warm and yummy in my tummy.”

Mace couldn’t help the laugh and shook his head. “Really? I like the potatoes the best. What about you?”

Daisy tapped her lips with her tiny finger as she thought hard about her answer. He loved that she made sure every answer she had was the right one—or at least the right words for the answer she had.

“I like the spicy things that aren’t spicy.” She tilted her head and studied the Crock-Pot. “What are those again?”

“That’s the garlic. I like that, too.” He held back his full laugh at her answer since it was so unexpected and yet so Daisy. “Maybe next time I’ll make a horseradish sauce to add to the top.”

Her little nose scrunched up. “A horse and a radish? Why would you make sauce with a horse? I don’t want horsey sauce.”

Mace took his time explaining exactly what horseradish actually was before picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder, her giggles making him settle down after a weirdly long day. Adrienne would be over soon, and they’d have dinner and try to enjoy the rest of their night without worrying about the other crap in their lives—or at least trying not to. He’d heard from Jeaniene every day since she left, surprising him, though it shouldn’t have. She wanted to be a part of Daisy’s life, but not the part that they’d planned on. He wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive his ex for that, not that he’d ever forgiven her for taking Daisy away in the first place.

As his daughter skipped around the room, singing a song she’d made up the day before, he did his best not to worry like he’d told himself he wouldn’t. Only, as soon as the doorbell rang and Adrienne walked through the door, he knew he’d lied to himself.

He’d worry about every damn thing he was doing wrong, but right then, he’d have dinner with his two best girls and just be.

As much as he could.

Chapter 7

With the week Adrienne had been having, if it weren’t for getting off thanks to Mace and the upcoming Brushes With Lushes night, she was pretty sure she’d have screamed into her pillow.

And, yes, she’d put getting off with her best friend on top of her list.

She was a Montgomery with a weakness—Mace Knight in all his big-dicked glory.

Adrienne rested her head on her steering wheel and let out a silent scream. She had no idea what she was doing, and all she could do was make immature jokes about the size of Mace’s cock to herself while counting down the hours until she could either get it in her mouth again or ride him until they were both spent.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to crave him like this. It was only supposed to be for one night or not at all. And now, every time she was near him, she had to do her best not to touch him, or worse, keep from staying away from him. If she did either too much, she’d break, or others would notice that something was different between the two of them.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” she said to herself, her voice oddly loud in the quiet car. “No freaking clue.” But if she sat here in the parking lot talking to herself for much longer, she’d have to add going insane to her already long list of confusing things she’d done in the past month.

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