Page 2 of Spade

“Yeah, what can I do for you, Ink? You know, besides change your daughter’s very stinky diaper,” Cynthia asked. Ink chuckled and crossed the room to take the baby from her. “How about you prep Spade for his tattoo, and I’ll change Bethany’s stinky diaper?” She looked at Ink as though he had lost his ever-loving mind, but when she nodded her agreement, Spade let out a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding.

“Great,” Ink said, “Spade, this is Cynthia,” he said, introducing the two of them. “My work is done here. Now if you will both excuse me, I have a date with a princess.” He smiled down at his daughter and disappeared into the back room, talking some kind of baby gibberish that only a new parent could understand.

Cynthia walked to the front of the shop, where her station was set up, and pointed to the chair. “Sit,” she ordered. She didn’t seem at all happy about having to do this for Ink and suddenly, Spade felt like an ass for asking him to get Cynthia to do his tat.

“Um, sorry that you have to do this,” he said. “If you want me to wait for Ink, I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not what I overheard you telling Ink,” she said. “I mean, you did ask him to get me to do your tat, right?” she asked. Shit, he wasn’t the quietest person, but he didn’t think that he was loud enough for Cynthia to hear him talking to Ink about her.

“You heard that?” he asked, suddenly feeling very unsure of himself and quite nervous.

“Yeah, I heard that,” she grumbled. “So, what are we doing today?” she asked, seeming to shift from angry to professional mode.

“I’m just having this area filled in,” he said, pointing to his arm sleeve. “Ink came up with the color scheme and that’s what we were supposed to work on today.”

“Got it,” Cynthia said. “Be right back.” Spade watched as she disappeared to the back again and he could hear her and Ink whisper arguing and he had a good idea what they were talking about—him. He was fucking everything up.

She came back to where he sat, holding the artwork that Ink had come up with. “Ready?” she asked.

“Sure,” Spade drawled, “I think the question here is are you ready?” She shot him a look that told him she wasn’t going to entertain his question as she pulled on her gloves.

“So, all business then?” he asked.

“Yep,” Cynthia said. “That’s how this works. You’re my client and I’m your tattoo artist for the next few hours.”

He knew that he was taking a chance, and maybe even being a bit careless, but he just couldn’t help himself. “What are you doing after you’re done being my tattoo artist?” he asked.

“I have another client coming in,” she said as she got her tools ready.

“Oh, well, I was thinking that you might want to have dinner with me tonight,” he said. Asking her out wasn’t a part of the plan, but he never had a plan when it came to pretty women. He usually just rolled with whatever came out of his mouth and that worked for him—sometimes.

“No thank you,” Cynthia said.

“Just like that?” he asked. “That’s all you’re going to say to my dinner offer?”

“Yep,” Cynthia said.

“Would you mind giving me a reason why you won’t go out with me? I know that we got off on the wrong foot. Hell, I talk too fucking much when I’m not nervous, but when I am, I just can’t seem to shut it off.”

“Do I make you nervous, Spade?” she asked leaning over his body to grab something from the other side of the chair. He damn near swallowed his tongue. She was toying with him, buthe honestly didn’t mind. She was at least paying some attention to him.

“Very,” he choked.

“Good,” Cynthia said. “I like that you’re a little bit afraid of me because you should be.”

“I didn’t say that I’m afraid of you,” he said. “I said that you make me nervous.”

“Yeah, I’m not seeing a difference,” she drawled. “Besides, it doesn’t matter how I make you feel, I don’t go out with clients.”

“Technically, I’m not your client,” he insisted. “I’m Inks.”

“Yet, here you are, in my chair, getting ink from me. I think that technically makes you my client,” Cynthia insisted.

“Shit,” he grumbled. “Well, then, there’s only one thing to do.” He stood from the chair and called back to Ink, “I’m going to have to reschedule, man, and the next time I come in, I want you to work on my tats.” He gave Cynthia a mock salute and walked out of the shop, not bothering to look back at her. He wasn’t sure what he had just done, but he was sure of one thing—he had probably just blown his chances with the pretty new tattoo artist.

Cynthia

Did she find the hot biker who had just walked out of the shop to be sexy as fuck—yes, but when he finally stopped talking, and she wasn’t sure what to say next because she hadn’t heard a word he said, she stood there quietly feeling awkward as hell. Honestly, all she could think about was tattooing the big guy someplace extremely private on his body, and then, she couldn’t stop thinking about him naked. He was big, had a beard, and lots of tattoos. Plus, he was a biker. She liked all those things in a man, but Spade made her girl parts stand up and pay attention, and that hadn’t happened for a damn long time.

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