Page 54 of Chasing Sparks

“Sure there isn’t something else usurping your time? Or should I say, someone?”

“Casey, I highly doubt your bed has been cold.”

“Not as warm as if you were in it.”

Her words should excite me, but they only make me want to leave.

I lean my forearms on the table, a snicker slipping past my lips. “You told me this dinner was about a business proposition. What kind of deal are we discussing?”

She smirks and trails her foot against my pant leg. Subtle, she is not. “Who says it can’t be both? Work first, then play later.”

I lean back with a sigh, running a hand over my jaw. All the while, Braden’s voice echoes in my head, reminding me I knew better—and I did it, anyway.

Best idea? Cut this dinner short with a strategically placed call from the shop or the farm and get the hell out of here before Casey strips me down tableside.

Part of me can’t believe I’m actually running away from this.

Ash, you’ve truly lost it this time.

Thankfully, our server brings out our appetizers, interrupting Casey’s foot play and offering me some much-needed breathing room.

“This looks amazing,” I state, popping a shrimp into my mouth.

“Here.” Casey offers me an oyster, tipping it up to slide it into my mouth. “One of the world’s great aphrodisiacs.”

The oyster should go down smooth, but with her gaze locked on mine, it feels like swallowing gravel.

God help me, I’m never making it through this dinner.

“Are you attached to Sparkwood? The New York area?”

Casey’s sudden segue startles me, though I’m grateful for the shift to a benign topic.

“Yeah, my shop is here, along with the speakeasy.”

She nods, sliding another oyster into her mouth. Licking her lips, she fixes me with a gaze that dares me to take the bait. “True, but there’s a whole world out there, full of artistry and excitement. What if you got a seat at that table?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“After your piece inInk Spot,we got a ton of calls. Mostly about how gorgeous you are—which I agree with—but several about your linework and portraiture skills. People from all over the world want you to ink them.”

“Awesome. Send them toBlack Lotus.”

Yes, it’s an ego boost to know that not only do people admire my outer wrapping, but they’re damn impressed by the creativity that flows from the inside.

“But sending them here to Sparkwood isn’t your idea, is it?”

Casey shakes her head, inching closer to me, her foot once again brushing against my shin. “I want to take you on the road, to all the best shops in the world, where you’ll have lines of fans clamoring for you.”

“Youwant to take me?” I clear my throat, moving my leg out of her reach.

“Ink Spotdoes, but I’ll be your traveling companion. Imagine all the fun we’ll have.”

“Tons,” I murmur, my emotions a tangled mess.

See, Casey’s offer is the stuff of legends. Every artist dreams of that kind of recognition, and I’d be a fool to refuse it.

But what aboutBlack Lotus? What aboutRum & Ruin?

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