Page 11 of Molly

She’s a fake tan junkie, so her skin is always golden and glowing. Her hair is so dark it’s almost black, and when you add in her ass and the slightly hooded hazel eyes, you’ve got men panting over our cake displays. The best part is that she knows the effect she has on them and uses it to her full advantage.Love that for her.

“I’m not really a chocolate guy. Maybe I’ll steal a bite of yours if that’s what you’re having.” He winks.

“Fat chance, get your own,” I reply.

I don’t share cake.

I look up and spot Evie coming over with a mug in each hand, and I sigh in relief.Coffee.

“Thanks, little fairy,” Ryan says to Evie, making her grin. She blows me a kiss and struts her little ass back to the counter.

“Why’d you call her fairy?” I ask curiously.

He shrugs. “She looks like one.”

I nod, looking over at her. I guess she does.

“So, what do you suggest I order, Mol?” he asks, placing his menu on the table and leaning back in his seat.

“Maybe we should just start with the coffee?” I need to know if he’s here to simply get in my pants or if this weird attraction we have going on is more than that before I commit to more than the ten minutes it’ll take me to finish my latte.

“Fine by me. How was your day?” he asks before he takes a sip of his cappuccino.

I cross my arms and lean forward, propping myself up with my elbows. “Alright, let’s do this. Why am I here, Ryan? You’ve obviously got enough women at your disposal that you don’t even bother to learn their names. Why me?”

He puts his mug down, and my eyes fixate on his mouth. His tongue pokes out and licks the foam from his bottom lip, making it glisten. “Honestly?” he asks. I nod for him to continue, half-listening, wondering what he would taste like right now. “I have no fucking idea. I saw you, and something in here just clicked.” He taps on his chest with his palm. “This is the first date I’ve ever been on. Never wanted to do it before. Never saw the point. But you walk in with your huge green eyes, look up at me, and I’m fucking gone. Don’t know how else to explain it to you, Molly. Just want to talk to you, know you. That’s the truth.”

Well, shit. I don’t even know how to respond to that.

???

RYAN

Molly sits stunned for a few seconds before looking at the counter and then back at me, picking up her cup, taking a sip.

“You mean that, don’t you?” she asks, sounding genuinely curious.

I nod. “Every word.”

She smiles, and I do the same. Her happiness is fucking contagious. We stare at each other for what feels like a full minute before she looks away and clears her throat. I chuckle, loving that I make her nervous.

“So, why’d you open Inked on Agnes? Why’d you move here?” she asks.

I grin and sit back in my seat, giving her some breathing room. “I worked in Melbourne for the past eight years, tattooing for my friend, Mike, at his shop. I moved up there to get experience after finishing up as an apprentice here and loved it, so I stayed. My family lives here, and when my older brother, Jordan, had his son, Jake, I realised I was missing out on watching him grow, so I moved home. I’ve built a pretty good rep working for Mike. Couldn't see myself working under anyone else again, so opening my own place just made sense. I asked my best mate, Beckett, if he was interested in working for me, and he surprised the shit out of me by offering to be my partner. We’ve been friends since high school, and we apprenticed together before I moved, so I was fucking stoked to be able to work with him again, especially at our own place. So far, we’re doing pretty well, plenty of clients coming through the door, so I’m happy.”

She listens to every word, smiling and nodding, and then asks, “Is Beckett as good as you?”

I scoff. “He’s better. He’s incredible. He specialises in watercolour tattoos, but he can do anything.Anything. He did the dove on my neck when he was an apprentice.”

“Holy shit, really?”

I nod, finish the last sip of my coffee, and put the mug back on the table. “Mhmm. He’s the best of the best, truly.”

“Do you, uh, want another coffee?” she asks hesitantly, staring at my empty cup.

The first one must have been a test run to see if she was going to kick me out or not. Seems like I’ve passed.

“Please,” I reply, a little too quickly. She wants me to stay. That’s progress. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, her shoulders relax, her eyes light up, and she grins, causing the dimple in her left cheek to form.

---