Page 28 of When It Rains He Pours

“And what is that?” I asked, emptying the dustpan. “I can't imagine that there's anything in this town I haven't already seen.”

“I bet you'd be surprised.” His lip twitched in a devilish grin, that damn dimple stealing my thoughts and forcing my stomach into my throat.

The temperature in the room had risen, causing my hands to become clammy and my lungs to struggle to take in air. I was about to strip my shirt off too and wipe him down with it just to have an excuse to touch him all over.

I had to stop staring at his bare chest and raw back, it was making my heart beat fast and my sex throb. Watching his ribs expand as he took a deep breath, watching the sweat trickle down slowly over his broad shoulders and racing down the v-shape at his waist; it was too alluring, too much temptation at the wrong time.

The guy was sexy as hell. But I didn't have time to ogle my hero, there was work to be done.

“So tell me, of all the places you could go for your business opportunity, why the hell did you come to Vienna?” Leaning against the plastic barrel, I tucked the dustpan under my arm.

“I heard there was an amazing art scene.” Winking, he swiveled the broom, turning around to sweep the space behind him.

My eyes kept soaking in his body; the rigid muscles in his back, all the hard dips and strong curves, I was mesmerized.

Thick black lines painted an image on his shoulder blades, splashes of color filled in empty space, forcing the tattoo to jump off his body. The design morphed as he moved, arching and dancing over his skin like it was alive.

I hadn't noticed his tattoo the night before. It had gone completely undiscovered in the moon colored room as he pinned me on my back.

Squinting, I angled my head to see the picture as a whole. It was a fish, filled in with hundreds of small dots and lines.

I wanted to trace it with my fingertips and follow the maze it created. My hands were tingling, tempted to reach out and stroke his skin. Walking up behind him, I gently ran my fingertips across his shoulders. I couldn't stop myself, I had to touch him.

“I like your tattoo. Did it hurt?”

Looking down at me over his shoulder, he smiled. “Not really.” Grabbing a piece of canvas from the trash, he held up the ripped painting, rotating it in the air. “You know, you'd make an awesome tattoo artist. Have you ever thought about it?”

That one was one of my favorites. . .

My eyes stung with painful tears as I looked at the picture and remembered it for what it once was. It had been one I was proud of, one that I was going to hang high in the gallery and never sell.

It used to be the image of a woman, her body stretched over a wall as she brushed her thin fingers ever so softly across water. I had painted it from beneath, like the viewer was standing just below the surface and was gazing up.

That one meant a lot to me. It was how I used to feel. Trapped inside myself, always the one looking out, never the one looking in. I could still feel the release after I finished it. It was as if I had locked that part of myself in the painting, sealing it inside forever.

That painting had set me free.

But staring at it now, torn and tattered, a mere fragment of what it once was, I felt like those captured emotions had escaped and were trying to find their way back inside my mind.

Blinking my eyes rapidly, I refused to let the tears break free, forcing them back into the cavern they came from.

You're not that person anymore.

“You alright?” Liam tilted his head, his face contorting, trying to figure out what I was thinking. “What's wrong?”

Am I that transparent?

“Yeah, I'm alright. It's just all of this, that's all.” Frowning, I shook my head. “I couldn't do that, I could never be a tattoo artist. I'd be too afraid to screw it up. You don't get to erase a mistake on skin. Once it's there, there's no going back.”

Pursing his lips, it looked like he wanted to poke me more about what was running through my brain. He didn't, and I was grateful for that.

“That's true, but once it's there, it becomes a part of your story.” Pressing my picture against his ribs, he bounced his eyebrows against his forehead. “I don't know, this would look really nice right here. Maybe you should consider it.”

“Yeah, I'll keep that on the back burner.” Laughing, I turned and attempted to walk towards the closet. Thick fingers quickly pinned me at the hips, pulling me back and spinning me around.

Liam's eyes burned, the bright blue now a caustic mix of indigo and sapphire. “Where you going? I was enjoying having you so close.” His teeth bit down on his bottom lip, hands moving slowly from my hips to the small of my back.

Letting my hands come to rest on his chest, we stood quietly for moment. My stomach flipped, knotting up like corded rope as Liam kept his gaze anchored on mine, his bright blues taunting me with the passion we had shared.

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