Page 206 of Chasing Sparks

Ash’s expression softens, and he exhales, locking his gaze with mine. "No. I’m fucking in love with you." He drags a hand over his brow, a nervous chuckle slipping out. "Didn’t mean to say it like that."

Holy hell, he just told me he loves me. He just told me he loves me. He … wow.

“Did you mean to say it at all?” I ask, my voice a throaty whisper.

Instead of answering, he smiles and presses his lips to mine in a tender kiss.

“That’s not the only surprise,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Look behind the stage.”

I pivot, craning my neck to get a better view. When I spot it, my hand flies to my mouth. “That’s me.”

On the wall is a mural of me on the beach in Florida. The same drawing Ash once showed me in his sketchbook.

“That’s you, little one,” he says, wrapping his arms around me in a warm cocoon. “Can I just say how gorgeous you look tonight?”

“Like it?” I wiggle my hips, causing the fringed hem to swing against my legs.

"So damn much," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "Might have to take you to my office and show you exactly how much."

“Remember what happened the last time we played too much in that office,” I remind him, biting back a laugh.

In a move that catches me totally off guard, Ash bends down and presses a soft kiss to my stomach.

“Best thing in the world,” he whispers, his voice filled with reverence.

Universe, if this is a dream, I want to sleep forever. Deal?

The mayor walks over, also decked out, in period appropriate attire, and whispers something in Ash’s ear.

“I’ll be back. You okay?” Ash asks, his eyes fixed on me.

“I’m perfect.” And at this moment, I am.

I scan the bar, noting how Braden and Mina look very cozy together in a corner booth. Good. It’s about damn time.

Settling onto a bar stool, I sip my drink, my foot tapping to the rhythm of the music as I soak in the night’s levity.

What a brilliant idea Ash had, restoring this place to its original glory. I’m so lucky to be a part of it.

“So, you’re the reason Ash said no.”

I turn on the stool, startled to see Casey, the scout fromInk Spot, standing next to me. “Excuse me?”

She motions toward the mural, a wry expression on her face. “Good likeness.”

“He’s a great artist,” I reply, my tone cautious.

“He is, which is why it’s such a damn shame he turned down the world tour.”

The what now?

“What are you talking about?” I ask, my stomach sinking.

Casey’s eyes narrow slightly as she leans closer, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper. "InkSpotwanted to sponsor Ash on a global tour—twenty of the most exclusive tattoo parlors in the world. Live events, guest spots, maybe even a behind-the-scenes documentary. It was a golden ticket. The kind of opportunity every artist dreams of. And he turned it down."

My throat tightens. “Ash never mentioned a world tour to me.”

“Really?” Casey raises a brow, her lips quirking as if she’s enjoying my discomfort a bit too much. “He was raring to go. They even started planning the itinerary—Tokyo, London, Buenos Aires, Berlin. Hell, he was going to tattoo on a yacht in Monaco. Then, out of nowhere, he calls me and says the deal is off. Said he had too much going on here in Sparkwood.”

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