Page 64 of Molly

“Mol?”

“Mmmm?”

“Jess just tried to call me.”

Her body tenses a little, and I run my fingers along her spine, trying to soothe her.

“Okay...” she says.

“I ignored it.”

Her body relaxes a little, and she kisses the dove I have tattooed around my neck. “Thank you for telling me,” she whispers, rubbing her nose against my skin.

I let out a relieved breath and kiss her forehead.

Eventually, her breathing evens out, her arm goes limp, and I fall asleep holding her to my chest, her head resting over my heart.

35

RYAN

“One sec, Em,” I say, looking down at my phone. I love having Emma at the shop. I try to do it at least twice a week at the moment. Starting next week, I’ve blocked off my afternoons from 4:00PM on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, so I can guarantee time with her going forward. Even though most of my clients are big, inked up blokes, they all gush over her like a bunch of women. It’s hilarious.

MOLLY: Evie is on a date. It’s so funny to watch. The poor guy looks like he’s going to vomit.

ME: Why? She’s adorable. What’s he got to be nervous about?

MOLLY: Who knows? He’s pale as fuck. Should I take him a bucket?

ME: Do it.

MOLLY: Penny’s been super pissy today. Has Beckett said anything? Thought they were doing okay…

ME: I’ll ask him. Doubt he’ll tell me, though. Every time I bring herup, he says the same shit. It’s casual, blah, blah.

MOLLY: I think Penny wants it to be more…

ME: Thought she hated all men ;)

MOLLY: Apparently, all but one.

ME: Yeah. She’s definitely not on Team Ryan.

MOLLY: She’ll come around, honey.

“Wyan, look, look,” Emma calls, jumping up and down on the couch in the front room of Inked on Agnes. I walk from around the counter to see what she’s pointing at and realise she’s spotted herself on my wall. I drew that picture about a week ago and hung it up yesterday.

“That’s me!” she yells, excitedly.

“It is. Prettiest girl on my wall.” I wink.

“Where’s Mumma?” she asks, looking around the wall, trying to spot her.

I’ve drawn more pictures of Molly than I can count, but none of them have hit my wall standard yet. Once I’ve done the perfect one, she’ll be up there, right next to Emma.

The door opens, and I turn my head to see Beckett coming back from his lunch break. He smiles as soon as he sees Emma, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“What’s up, brother?” I ask.

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