Authors: Jeana E. Mann
“Good.” He touched a tentative finger to the reddened skin. One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Tattoo Girl, I’m going to make you fucking famous.”
Chapter 29
Tasha went home, high on adrenalin from Elijah’s tattoo, to find Luke waiting for her. He sprawled on the floor in front of the TV, video game controller in his hands, an open beer on the coffee table beside him, and the scent of something delicious wafting in the air. The sight of him, black hair curling above his shirt collar and legs stretched over her carpet, sent a delicious thrill through her.
“’Bout time you got here,” he said, eyes glued to the TV. “I got takeout. It’s on the counter.”
White cardboard cartons lined the kitchen island. Gerbera daisies, her favorites, spilled over a cut glass vase. She opened the first carton, took a deep whiff, and smiled. He knew her all too well.
“Are you going to join me?” she asked.
“Die, motherfucker!” he shouted.
“What?” She bit back a laugh and peeked into the room to find him jerking the controller and cursing at the TV.
“Sorry. Not you.” He shut off the game, climbed gracefully to his feet, and rolled his head on his shoulders. His eyes found hers, their depths sparkling and anxious. Two quick strides brought him across the room to meet her. “I missed you,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her waist and dropped a kiss on top of her head. His gaze narrowed. “Wait a second. You changed your hair.”
She raised an eyebrow and watched him survey her from head to toe. “Well?”
“I love it,” he said and touched her hair with a tentative finger. She pulled the clip at her nape and let the length of it tumble over her shoulders and down to her waist. “I can’t believe it. Is this your real hair color?”
“Yeah,” she blushed under his approval. “I finished Elijah’s tattoo today and went to celebrate at the salon.”
“How did it turn out?” he asked, a slight shadow crossing his face. Before she answered, it disappeared and the light returned to his eyes.
“Fantastic,” she answered and pulled her phone out to show him a picture. He studied it for a long moment then pulled her back into his arms for a strong hug. He had the best hugs in the world. With her eyes closed, she buried her nose in his neck and savored his strength.
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re destined for big things, baby.”
He didn’t ask about Elijah, and she didn’t offer to tell him. The four walls of her apartment offered a refuge for the two of them, protected from everyone and everything on the outside. Inviting Elijah into their private space seemed to violate an unspoken agreement.
After dinner, they watched a movie from the sofa. Nestled in Luke’s embrace with the steady thud of his heart beneath her ear, it was easy to forget they weren’t a couple. Neither of them spoke. The strength of his arms soothed her. The heat of his body and the scent of his cologne were comforting. His fingers stroked through her hair over and over. Exhaustion weighted her eyelids and pulled her into sleep.
Sometime after midnight, she awoke in her bed, still fully dressed. Luke nestled against her side, dressed only in his boxer briefs. He stirred when she went to the bathroom but didn’t wake up. She stripped out of her clothes and into a T-shirt before sliding back into bed. Curling on her side, she studied his face. Thick black lashes fanned over his cheeks. They fluttered when she traced a fingertip over the curve of his lips. One corner of his mouth lifted in an unconscious smile. He was in her bed. Having him with her like this made her want him more. All the time. Every day.
The sheets tangled through his legs, leaving his hips and washboard stomach exposed. Unable to resist temptation, she slid her hand over his chest and through the smattering of hair over his pecs. He moaned, shifted closer, and flung an arm over her hip. With her fingertips, she followed the line of
hair from his navel and into his briefs. The smooth skin of his erection met her hand. She stroked up and down lightly, feeling him lengthen and harden. When she tugged on him, his eyes snapped open.
He didn’t say anything, just pulled her into him and nuzzled her ear. The rhythm of his breathing altered with the speed of her hand. Another groan and a thrust of his hips urged her to continue. With her free hand, she drew the briefs over his buttocks. His mouth met hers in a slow, wet kiss. She found a condom and rolled it onto him.
The mattress creaked when he shifted his weight onto her, parting her legs with his knee. She opened for him. He slipped into her, pushing inside with one long, slow slide, and settled into an easy rhythm. Bracing on his elbows, he gazed down at her through heavy-lidded eyes. She sighed in pleasure and cupped his cheek in her palm.
“You feel good,” he whispered. “I missed you today.”
The cadence of her heart stuttered and steadied. “I missed you too.”
With his heat and hardness inside her, it was easy to forget this was a tentative arrangement. The steady push of his hips caused tension to coil deep within her. He filled and consumed her, his angular face and broad shoulders above her. The scent of his cologne and their sex filled the air. His hands seemed to be everywhere on her body, breasts, hips, and thighs. The taste of peppermint lingered in his kisses.
“Oh God, Tash.” He buried his face in her neck, sucking on the tender flesh below her ear, while his lower body twisted and surged, building the pressure into pleasure. His body tensed in her grip. He was close to the edge. She was closer.
“I know, Luke,” she whispered. “I know.”
They came together in a flurry of moans and gasping cries. He shuddered, twisting her heart in her chest. The weight of him anchored her when she felt boneless. His touch soothed her when she was restless. And his kisses heated her soul as well as her body. She needed him in a way she hadn’t needed anyone before, and the thought scared her. Luke didn’t talk about his feelings or commitment or their future. They were drifting through the days, together but separate. She’d already wounded him once by pushing him away. She couldn’t blame him for hesitating to do it again.
A wave of guilt swept over her for reasons she didn’t understand. She wanted to tell him she was in love with him, that she’d been in love with him from the start, but couldn’t find the courage. Love didn’t last, and if they weren’t in love, it didn’t have to end.
In the morning, she awoke to an empty bed and a sense of disappointment. She swept a hand over the rumpled sheet where Luke had slept, the cotton cool beneath her palm. His embrace offered the security and comfort she’d needed. In his arms, all her problems dissipated. With a sigh, she pushed back the covers and put her feet on the floor.
The carpet tickled beneath her feet as she padded into the bathroom. The reflection in the mirror showed red-rimmed eyes, blotchy skin, and a mass of tangles in her hair. Scary. She opened the shower to turn on the hot water. A knock at the door made her jump.
“Tash?” Luke’s voice released the tension between her temples. “I made coffee and toast. I’ve got to leave for work in a few minutes.”
He was still here. He hadn’t left.
“Um, okay,” she shouted. With a burst of superhuman speed, she brushed her teeth, splashed water on her face, and piled her hair on top her head in a messy bun, pausing long enough to admire the warm brown color. A second glance in the mirror persuaded her to add a touch of blush to her cheeks and a sweep of gloss to her lips. It had never mattered before, but now she wanted to look her best for him.
She found him seated on a barstool at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. His clothes were rumpled, but his hair was still damp from the shower. The ends stuck up in sexy spikes. He glanced up at her and set the coffee cup down on its saucer, a hesitant smile on his lips. How many times had she fantasized about him waiting for her and passed it off as a silly crush? What she felt for him went way beyond friendship, and she’d been a fooling herself to think it was anything less.
“Are we good?” he asked. This time the words put a knot of unease in the pit of her stomach. He pushed his barstool back from the counter.
“Sure,” she answered and busied her hands with buttering a slice of toast so he wouldn’t notice how they trembled.
“It’s just…” He shoved a hand through his hair and began again. “Last night was intense. And every time things heat up between us, you bolt.”
“What? Oh, crap.” The toast slipped from her hand and landed face down on the floor. While she retrieved it, her mind processed his statement, trying to make sense of it. Last night had been more than she’d expected. It had felt familiar and good and made her want more. More nights with him. More than friendship. More Luke.
She dropped the toast into the trash and turned to face him. Lines of worry etched his face. He tore his toast in half, handing her a piece, avoiding her eyes. She drew in a deep breath and placed her hand over his.
“Not this time,” she said.
Chapter 30
When Luke and Tasha arrived at Felony the next weekend, a line for admission had formed an hour before opening. It snaked down the alley and around the block. Luke took her hand and cleared a path for them, his fingers tight and possessive around hers, making her feel safe and protected. Randy ushered them inside the door with a shake of his head, blocking out the others.
“What’s going on?” Luke asked him.
“Beats the hell out of me,” Randy replied. He jerked a thumb toward the bar. “Go ask your brother.”
Jack paced the floor behind the bar. When they approached, he turned to face them and thrust both hands through his hair, something she’d seen Luke do a thousand times. Ally sat on a barstool, her brows furrowed.
“We’re totally fucked,” Jack said. “The band cancelled.” He gripped his forehead and massaged his temples.
“What’s up, my bitches?” Elijah sailed into the room on leather-clad legs, his entourage trailing behind him with amps and equipment cases. Her heart tripped when his eyes met hers for a fraction of a second. “Sorry I’m late. We’ll be set up in a minute.”
“What the fuck, man?” By the color of Jack’s face, he teetered on the verge of a meltdown. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”
“You need more business. I’m here to make that happen.” Elijah paused to bark orders to his men then turned back to Jack. “I sent out a social media blast a few minutes ago. This place is going to be crawling with people. You’d better get ready.”
“Are you crazy?” Jack waved his arms at no one in particular. “You can’t show up here and take over like this. We’re not prepared for a crowd. Jesus.” The ends of his hair stood out in frantic spikes where he continued to scrub through it.
Ally put her hand on his chest and looked up at him. When his gaze met hers, his expression softened and he drew in a deep breath. She said something to him, meant only for his ears. He smiled and ran a hand down her back, pressing her to him. Tasha swallowed down the thickness in her throat, teaming with envy. Maybe she wanted that, too.
“We’ll be fine.” Randy stepped forward, a calm voice in the midst of Jack’s chaos. “The coolers are stocked and we just got a shipment yesterday.”
“We should raise the cover,” Ally interjected, her mind always tabulating costs and overhead. “I’ll help Tasha wait tables. Karly and Luke can man the bar.”
“Everyone’s tweeting about it,” Karly said, lifting her phone into the air.
“See? It will all be fine,” Elijah said. “Just say thank you, Jack.”
“I’ll thank you afterward,” Jack said, but his face split into a grin. He pumped Elijah’s hand.
Before Randy let the crowd inside, Tasha knocked on the door of Jack’s office. He sat on the edge of his desk. Ally stood between his knees, one hand on his shoulder. They turned to smile at her when she entered.
“What’s up?” Jack asked. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine,” Tasha said, feeling an uncomfortable heat rise up her neck. She needed to know something and had no idea how to ask. Her palms began to sweat, and she rubbed them on her thighs. “I just wanted to ask you guys something. It’s not really any of my business, but…” The words faded and she looked away, embarrassed.
“Spit it out, Gretzky,” Ally said.
“You—both of you—I mean, why did you decide to do it? Get engaged, I mean.” The question tangled on her tongue. At their twin looks of confusion, she struggled on, looking to Jack for help. “You were married to Chelsea and you were miserable. You always said you’d never settle down. And Ally, you said you didn’t need to get married. That it’s just a piece of paper and doesn’t mean anything.”
They were silent for a minute, contemplating her question. Tasha glanced at the door and considered making a run for it before she humiliated herself any further.
Jack was the one who answered. “Ally’s my best friend, and I don’t want to spend another minute of my life without her in it. I need her to know I’ll always be her for her, and I can’t think of a better way to prove it.” He smiled at Ally and threaded his fingers through hers.
“Plus we get a tax break,” Ally added with a wink.
“You’re such a romantic,” he groaned.
Tasha smiled and went back to the bar while she contemplated Jack’s answer. Ally was his best friend. They enjoyed each other’s company, and it showed in their smiles. They’d gone through hell but had managed to stay together despite a manipulative ex-wife and a philandering boyfriend.
She put their conversation aside while she went to work readying the tables on the floor, but it stayed active in her subconscious. Her gaze kept sliding back to Elijah. He had a guitar slung around his neck, strumming chords, sharing witty banter with one of his guys. He looked comfortable on the stage, relaxed and easy.