Page 49 of London Inked Boys: The Complete Trilogy
Does that mean he’s still interested, even though he knows about Dylan?
“So, let me take you out again.” He smiles and his face lights up. “When are you free?”
My mind whirls. Mike said he’d have Dylan one evening during the week to make up for bringing him back early on the Sunday. Does that leave me free to be able to see Kane again? My stomach churns with excitement at the thought.
“I think Mike is having Dylan on Wednesday. Does that work for you?”
For a moment, I worried he’ll say he already has plans, which would mean our second date would be dead in the water, as I don’t know how likely it is that Mike would stick to the weekend either, but Kane grins.
“Yeah, I can do Wednesday.”
“Great.”
“I’ll pick you up around seven,” he says, as we both got to our feet. “Assuming you won’t have any more surprise children popping up at that time.”
She laughs. “No, no more surprise children. I promise.”
We stop before we reach the door, facing each other. Our bodies are only inches away, and I have to crane my neck to look up into his face.
“Good,” he says, smiling, and then his fingers lace into the back of my hair and his mouth lowers to mine, kissing me softly, slowly, his tongue pushing into my mouth so I melt against him.
God, the man knows how to kiss.
He breaks it first, touching the end of my nose lightly with his. “I’ll see you Wednesday, then.”
Feeling like my legs no longer belong to me, and my head was full of candyfloss, I leave the tattoo studio, already counting down the days.
Two days later, I’m getting ready for my date with Kane.
Miraculously, Mike stuck to his promise to have Dylan and picked him up straight after school. I’ve been stupidly nervous all day, my mind bouncing possibilities around. What if he changes his mind and doesn’t show up? What if he expects us to sleep together? I don’t know how I feel about that. I want to, but it’s been a long time. Will I remember what to do? Plus, I’m nervous about what he’ll think of my body. He seemed pretty keen before, but he hadn’t seen me fully naked. He's probably used to nubile twenty-year-olds whose bodies haven’t been through the changes of becoming a mother. My stomach isn’t as flat as it once had been, my breasts are heavier, and I have stretch marks across my stomach and thighs. I spent far too much time in front of the mirror while I was getting ready, sucking things in and holding things up, trying to see myself how Kane would see me.
I also wish I’d asked him where he’s going to take me. Will we be going somewhere dressy? Kane doesn’t seem like the type of guy who wants to go to a fancy restaurant, but I don’t want to judge him either. In the end, I settle for a pair of fitted jeans—high waisted so they don’t rub on my new tattoo— an emerald green strappy top, and a pair of heels. I’ve brushed my hair until it’s smooth and silky, and gone with a little mascara and some lip gloss. I know it’s the fashion these days to wear heavy makeup with a ton of contouring, but that isn’t me at all.
The doorbell rings, and I hurry down to answer it. I yank open the door to reveal Kane standing on my doorstep. He wears a pair of smart jeans, boots, and a shirt which is open a couple of buttons, exposing the tattoo on his chest, and rolled up at the sleeves, showing off his forearms.
His mouth drops open when he sees me. “Fucking hell, you look stunning.”
I smile. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”
His gaze darkens. “You’re aware that I’ve offered to take you out, but now I know where your bedroom is, I’m half tempted just to turn you the hell around and take you back up there.”
I smack him playfully on the arm. “I’m not that type of woman, Kane,” I say, though I’m teasing him. After all, we ended up in that bed after our previous date, even though we hadn’t gone all the way.
“That’s okay. Means I get to savour ever moment of being with you.” He gives me a lopsided smile, but the way he looks at me makes me think he’s still thinking about sex.
And I find that I don’t mind a single bit.
12
KANE
Holly McCarty is absolutely beautiful. It’s enough to take my breath away, and while I’d joked about trying to get her into bed, it had mainly been to try to hide my reaction at seeing her again. Over the past couple of days, I tried to kid myself that there’s no way she could be as gorgeous as I remember, and yet here she is, looking even more beautiful.
I hold out my arm to her, and she steps out of the house and pulls the door shut behind her, before looping her arm through mine.
“So, where are we going?” she asks.
“There’s a bistro pub around the corner from here. It’s got great reviews.” I catch her expression. “What? Is it bad?”
