Page 3 of When You Give a Lawyer a Kiss

“You really need to work on your bedside manner,” I observe.

“It’s a good thing I’m not a doctor, isn’t it?” he remarks. “My clientele isn’t bothered by my bluntness or colorful language.”

“Well, not everyone is used to—” I break off when the bell on the front door chimes.

“Hello, anybody here?” Kevin’s nasally voice drifts through the shop.

My eyes fly to Cole and I silently plead with him to let me stay. He may not have given me a warm welcome, but I can sense a flicker of empathy behind his stern demeanor. I’m holding my breath, praying for a miracle, when he wordlessly brushes past me.

“We’re closed,” I hear Cole snaps.

Unable to resist, I cautiously glance around the doorframe, careful not to stick my head out too far.

Kevin sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “I seem to have lost my date. Did a redhead come in here a minute ago, by any chance?”

Cole waves around the empty shop. “Does it look like I have company?”

Kevin shifts from one foot to the other. “No.”

“Well, there’s your answer. And a word of advice… If a woman ditches you, it’s because you were a shitty date.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. When a woman bails, it means she noticed a red flag or in your case, several. Stalking her isn’t doing you any favors,” Cole states, nodding toward the door. “Now get the hell out of my shop.”

I flinch even though his words aren’t directed at me. We just met, and I already know he’s the last person I’d want to cross.

Kevin pulls out his cell and fumbles with the door handle. “Mother, you will never believe what just happened to me…” His voice trails off as he disappears into the night.

Why am I not surprised his mom is the first person he called?

I let out a sigh and watch as Cole flips the sign in the window toClosed.

“Your date’s gone. You can come out now,” he calls over his shoulder.

I hesitantly step out of his workstation and into the reception area. “Thanks for getting rid of him,” I say as I push my hair back from my face.

“What did you see in that asshole anyway?” he asks bluntly. “His grating voice and receding hairline should have been enough to show he wasn’t worth the effort.” He dims the lights, likely to deter any other unexpected visitors from dropping in.

I put my hand on my hip. “Haven’t you heard the expression about not judging a book by its cover?”

Cole scoffs. “Yeah, it’s bullshit. First impressions are always spot on.” He takes a container of disinfectant wipes from the counter and wipes down the reception desk. “If you had been less worried about hurting Kevin’s feelings and listened to your gut instincts, you could have avoided your disastrous date.”

“What about you? What would I find if I judged you by your cover?”

Cole tilts his head in my direction. “I’m a skeptic who values business above all else and I have a reputation for making grown men cry.” He tosses the wipe he was using into the trash.

“You’re a real ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” I quip.

Why do I keep provoking the grumpy tattoo artist?

Apparently, self-preservation isn’t in my playbook tonight.

“My customers come here for tattoos, not to chit-chat,” Cole grunts.

I nod as I wander to the wall where several tattoo designs are hung up, all in black ink. One is a wolf, its fur rendered with fine linework to create a realistic texture. The next piece features aseries of interconnected geometric shapes that create an optical illusion, some of the forms appearing to jump off the wall. Next to it, there’s a striking floral skull; the rose petals are drawn with a lace-like delicacy, contrasting with the bold outline of the skull.

These are more than just tattoos—they’re works of art that command attention.

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