Page 42 of Devilish Ink

“Who is he?” Lee asked as he stared into the eye of my nightmare in the mirror when I’d finished, his voice low but firm.

“It’s just an art piece.”

I tried to keep my voice casual, but even I could hear the pinch of fear in my voice. I tried to busy myself with cleanup so I wouldn’t have to look at him.

He saw through me anyway.

Lee grabbed my trembling hands. His fingers brushed over my knuckles. He reached out and tilted my chin up so I was forced to look at him.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me about him…yet.”

I sucked in a breath, needing to look away, but I just couldn’t. Everything about him drew me in like a vortex I couldn’t escape.

“I know whoever he is, he hurt you. Really hurt you.”

I blinked as the backs of my eyes stung, as my pain threatened to tumble out into his hands. I clamped my jaw tight against the ache, as hot fat tears rolled down my cheeks.

Lee leaned in and kissed away each tear.

Between each kiss, he whispered, “When I find the man who hurt you, he is fuckingdead.”

His words should have terrified me. Instead I leaned in and for a moment I let him rest his forehead against mine.

I sucked in a breath and straightened, pulling away from him. I walked to the register, my back to him, wiping my eyes as discreetly as possible.

“So,” I said, clearing my throat, “are you sure you won’t let me give you a discount?”

As always, he stood too close to me as he shrugged on his jacket. “How about you let me buy you a drink?”

I smiled sadly at him as was our routine.

It never deterred him. He merely smiled and held out the cash. As our fingers brushed and electricity shot up my arm, he said, “Maybe next time, then?”

As I watched him walk away I’d always kick myself.

One day that man will get tired of waiting for you.

“It’s time we move on,” I said.

Lee was shrugging out of his coat when he stopped halfway, his eyes flying to mine. If I’d had my hand against his chest, I was certain that I would have felt his chest seize up and his skin go cold and clammy.

“To your front,” I said, repressing a laugh, his panic adorable.

I wondered if one day I wouldn’t hold myself back. I wondered if one day I’d just laugh as long as I wanted. Till Lee came over and put his finger to my lips with a wicked grin. Till he threatened to give me something to laugh about, his fingertips at my ticklish sides.

This was the problem with Lee: he made everything seem possible.

“Your back is fully tatted. We need to move on…to your front,” I clarified, tapping the leather chair. “For your next tattoo, I mean.”

“Jaysus, woman,” Lee muttered, swiping off his shirt and tossing it across the back of a chair. “For a second I thought you meant…us.”

I bit my lip.

“What if that was what I meant? That I wanted this…” I waved a finger between us, to whatever the hellthiswas, “to be over.”

“I’d convince you otherwise,” he said simply.

“Really?” I lifted an eyebrow at him as he strode to the table.

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