Page 47 of Forbidden Harmony

“He’s off today. How can I help you?”

“Oh, um, I’m here to see Preacher.”

“He’s with a client. Do you have anappointment?”

She stared at the curtained off tattoo station.“No, but -”

“He’s fully booked for walk-in appointmentsuntil after next week,” the man said. “You can book with him for mid-August,or you can book with me.”

“You work here?” She winced at her stupidity.Obviously, he worked there.

“I’m Nix.” He held out his hand and sheshook it.

“Addison.”

“Nice to meet you. What kind of tattoowere you thinking of getting?”

“Oh, I wasn’t here for -”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You have togive me a refund!”

Their heads swiveled toward the tattoostation as the curtain was drawn back with a rattle. Bethany - she of the four-leafclover tattoo and naked vagina – glared at Preacher, her hands fisted on herhips and her lips thin.

“I told you not to get it wet. You did. Youdidn’t follow my advice and you ruined your tattoo. You don’t get a refund.”Preacher’s voice was calm, but Addison could see a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“You asshole!” Bethany shouted. “You didn’tsay anything about not getting the tattoo wet.”

“Yes, I did. It’s in the written careinstructions you were given, and I specifically told you not to get it wet aswell.”

“It doesn’t even look like a four-leafclover anymore. It looks like a… like a smeared piece of snot on my fuckingpussy!”

“Not my problem,” Preacher said. “Nexttime pay attention to the care instructions.”

“You’re seriously not going to give me afucking refund?” Bethany’s face was bright red and her slender body was stiffas a rabid dog’s.

“Fucking right, I’m not,” Preacher said.

“You asshole!” Bethany screeched. “I’mgonna tell everyone that you’re a shit tattoo artist who doesn’t know shitabout tattooing.”

“Have a nice day.” Preacher folded his armsacross his massive chest. A bored look had settled on his face but the musclein his jaw tick-tick-ticked in rapid succession.

For a moment, Addison was sure Bethany wouldtry and claw Preacher’s eyes out. Instead, she turned and stomped toward thedoor, pushing past Addison with an irritated huff before pausing at the door andglaring again at Preacher. “I’m glad you didn’t show up at my tent. I wouldn’tfuck you if you were the last man on earth. You’re a pathetic loser who probablydoesn’t know shit about making a woman come.”

When Preacher didn’t reply, her face went adarker shade of crimson and, with a final muttered ‘asshole’, Bethany flouncedout of the shop.

Silence descended over the shop. Themuscle in his jaw still ticking, Preacher frowned at Addison. “What are youdoing here?”

Shit. Could she have had worse timing?

“I’ll come back on Monday,” she said andgroped behind her for the door handle.

His scowl deepened and she swallowed hardwhen he stalked forward and stopped just in front of her. “What’s going on?”

She licked her lips. Now that he wascloser, she could see how angry Preacher actually was. It should have frightenedher. Instead, she wondered how much hotter sex would be with a pissed offPreacher.

“I think it’s infected,” she said.

“Tattoo or piercing?”

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