Inked in the Steel City Series (22 page)

Abby, James and Tyler were Hot Ink’s other tattoo artists, and the fact that they’d be attending would make Jed’s presence seem more natural. Not that Karen’s shameless imagination wasn’t already perfectly convinced that Jed’s presence would make the night nothing short of magical. Amazingly, awkwardly magical, considering the fact that Mina would probably be waggling her eyebrows and scheming to embarrass Karen at some point. Where had her sweet, reserved friend gone?

Engagement had changed her. Before she’d placed the order for her Tattooed Prince Charming’s wedding tux, she’d never waggled her eyebrows at anyone.

“See you then,” Karen said, stepping away from the counter.

Mina smiled. “Bye, Karen.”

* * * * *

Black was a good color. You couldn’t go wrong with black, right? Jed shoved his shirtsleeves up to his elbows and rolled them so they’d stay in place. He hated when sleeves touched his wrists, so he’d compromised. Usually, he wore a t-shirt, but for tonight, he’d chosen a shirt that actually buttoned up the front.

Because it was Karen’s birthday. It was his birthday too, but that didn’t matter. He glanced at the rearview mirror and made sure there wasn’t anything on his face, like a giant sign reading
I wore sleeves for Karen because I think she’s amazing.

Nothing. He grimaced at his reflection and looked away, opening the door.

What the hell was wrong with him? Karen was too innocent, too young, too ambitious – too
everything
– for someone like him, and he hadn’t been interested in a relationship in years. How old was she turning anyway? He mulled the possibilities over as he exited his Charger, gripping a box he’d wrapped just hours ago.

Ruby’s, Karen’s former place of employment, was packed on a Friday night. The interior was loud, and a little dark. Even over the noise of dozens of diners, he was able to pick out Karen’s voice. “You have to try the strawberry lemonade, Abby,” she said from a corner table.

“Of course it’s alcoholic. And don’t worry – we won’t get stiffed on drinks here. Nate’s working the bar tonight, and he makes them strong.”

Jed arrived at the table just in time to see Karen winking at Abby.

Good God, she looked amazing. Not Abby – Karen. Abby might’ve looked good too, but Karen stole the spotlight so completely that there was no telling. Her blue-green dress stood in alluring contrast to her dark red hair and creamy skin, plenty of which was exposed by the low V-neck. She was leaning toward Abby, jabbing a finger enthusiastically at the drink menu, and the position showcased her ample cleavage like a dream.

“Jed!” Eric called out from one end of the table, where he sat with his arm around Mina. “Happy birthday, man.”

His words unleashed a floodgate. The entire table erupted in a chorus of well-wishes, drowning out the rest of the noise completely for a few seconds. The outburst took him by surprise; when he’d laid eyes on Karen, he’d forgotten that it was his birthday, too.

He strode toward the table, acknowledging their sentiments with a nod, and took the nearest empty seat. It just so happened to be the seat directly across from Karen.

Tyler elbowed Jed in the side. “Already ordered a pitcher of your favorite.”

“Thanks.” Jed’s mouth went momentarily dry as he stared across the table, and not just because Tyler’s statement had him craving beer. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken the seat across from Karen – he couldn’t help staring at her in that dress. He had to look like an idiot. He
felt
like an idiot.

A rush of hot air and a sizzle came from behind, and a waitress spared him by lowering a platter of battered, spicy-smelling shrimp onto the table in front of him. It was an appetizer platter big enough for the entire group, and she’d barely placed a couple bowls of dipping sauce on the table top before everyone began reaching for the food.

Jed grabbed one of the shrimp and dipped it blindly into a sauce bowl, forcing himself to look at everyone seated around the table as he chewed, not just Karen.

Tyler, James, Abby and Eric – all Hot Ink’s artists were there, plus Mina, one of the studio’s receptionists and Eric’s fiancée. Mina’s little sister Jess was there too, eating shrimp and smiling as she sat in her wheelchair beside a teenaged boy who had to be her boyfriend. The kid was grinning at Jess with a distinctly dopey, instantly recognizable young love kind of look.

The sight of the two kids smiling at each other and goofing off with a couple of severed shrimp tails sent a pang of searing nostalgia through Jed’s chest. His heart beat slowly but deliberately beneath the buttoned-up front of his shirt, reminding him that it was still stubbornly functioning even after being broken.

He understood the all-or-nothing nature of young love; the memory of it shimmered across the surface of his mind, startlingly vivid for a few fleeting seconds.

He shoved the memories away. He was in the middle of celebrating his thirty-fifth birthday, for fuck’s sake. There was no ring on his finger, though the band he’d once worn had left a permanent mark against his skin, fainter than a tattoo, but just as lasting. This was where the love that had once consumed him had left him.

CHAPTER 2

“It was a disaster,” Abby said, shaking her head, still in conversation with Karen. “Wasn’t it, Jed?” She turned blue eyes on Jed, snapping him out of his self-pity with her unexpected question.

“Disaster?”

“The cover-up job I finished today. The original tattoo was a disaster, wasn’t it?”

Jed grimaced. “That’s putting it kindly. It was a fucking travesty.” Remembering himself, he glanced toward the kids at the end of the table. Luckily, they were too absorbed in each other’s company to spare any attention for what he was saying.

Abby grinned, and Karen frowned. “See, that’s another thing that scares me about tattoos – there are so many horrible ones out there. What if you went to get something beautiful and it turned out to be an embarrassment?”

“A legitimate artist would make sure you got something that made you happy.” Jed’s gaze was drawn to the creamy skin of Karen’s chest and arms. An unblemished, unmarked canvas – her skin was perfect, and so fair that ink of any color would contrast brilliantly. If she ever decided to be tattooed … what wouldn’t he give to be the one to put the ink in her skin? “And they’d never even consider putting something as pathetic as the trash Abby covered up on someone’s body.”

“
Never
,” Abby said, raising her eyebrows as she turned wide blue eyes on Karen. “The scratcher who did the original tattoo should be thrown in prison, if you ask me.”

Jed’s lips threatened to quirk into a smile. Abby was generally quiet, but she had her convictions.

“If I ever got a tattoo, I know where I’d go,” Karen said. “Not that I want anyone to come near me with a needle, but if I did…” She met Jed’s gaze for a moment so brief he would’ve doubted it had happened if it hadn’t been for the electricity it sent crackling through his entire body.

Her gaze flickered downward just as the waitress arrived with what looked like the lemonade Karen had been talking about.

Karen gripped her glass, long fingers curling gracefully around the frosted surface, and raised it to her mouth. The plastic straw drifted through a sea of ice to part her lips, and Jed had to look away.

For the better part of an hour, he pretended to be deeply interested in the jokes, beer and food circulating around the table. After way too many shrimp, he devoured the ribs he’d ordered, and they were good, but it was hard to focus on anything when Karen’s presence drove him to constant distraction. The way her hair shone in the low lighting, the way her skin glowed – everything about her drew his eye, and it was hell trying to resist.

He was on his way back from a trip to the restroom when he ran into her – not quite literally, but almost – in the narrow hallway that led to the men’s and ladies’ rooms.

“Oh!” Her strappy sandals slid a little on the tile, but she steadied herself with a hand against the wall just as he reached for her.

His hand swept through empty air – she’d already regained balance. He lowered it, his fingertips tingling with unfulfilled expectation. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She looked a little flushed – her fair skin was distinctly pink across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, and her eyes were bright. If that was the effect the lemonade was having on her, he might just have to buy her a second one … as a friendly treat to the birthday girl, of course, nothing more.

“I’ve always thought this hall was way too narrow. Drove me crazy when I was working here.” She straightened the front of her dress, and for the first time, he noticed the sequins glittering at the hem. Blue and green, they highlighted the pale but healthy sheen of her skin.

“Guess I take up more room than the average customer,” he said, jerking his gaze up and trying to sound jovial. It was no joke, though – he’d barely have to raise his arms at all to touch both walls. He was used to spaces seeming cramped; it was an everyday thing, thanks to the fact that he was 6’3”.

“That makes two of us,” Karen said, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind one ear and looking down as she smiled, her lower lip dented where she was clearly biting it from the inside.

“What are you talking about?” Even in her strappy heeled sandals, she wasn’t tall enough to look him in the eye. But she was tall enough that he didn’t feel like he was talking to his toes when he looked down at her, and that was nice.

The dent in her lower lip grew deeper, wider. “Well, you know.” She waved a hand at nothing. “I’m pretty tall, if you haven’t noticed.”

Oh, he’d noticed everything about her, including her mile-long legs, which accounted for her above-average height. “You’re still short in my book,” he teased.

Most people were. If Karen took up more room in the hallway than the average woman, it was less because of her height and more because of her amazing curves, which dominated the space between them and his imagination alike. She was curvy, but her waist was noticeably smaller than her hips and bust … she was like a pin-up girl from decades past, a retro-styled tattoo come to life.

The thought called his dick to attention as she stared at him, her green eyes wide above flushed cheeks and glossed lips. He was semi-hard, and fighting a full-fledged erection with everything he had because he had to walk back to the table. And damn it, there were
kids
back at the table, not to mention almost every single one of his employees.

“Sorry,” he said again, and tore his gaze away from her face, “about almost knocking you over.”

“It’s all right.”

The hallway really was narrow. They were standing so close he could smell her perfume – a light citrusy scent that reminded him of her youth. “I won’t keep you any longer.” He eased past her – a serious feat, considering the hall’s scant width and the fact that a part of him actually
wanted
to brush up against her – and strode toward the other side of the restaurant.

With his belly pressed to the bar, the state of arousal his encounter with Karen had left him in was well-hidden. He lingered, and when the bartender looked his way, he ordered a shot of bourbon over ice. The cold liquor burnt smooth and fiery on the back of his tongue, both heating and cooling him from the inside. He drained the glass, willing the potent fumes to erase the memory of Karen’s perfume from his consciousness.

It didn’t work. The airy, fruity scent lingered in his nostrils – how was it possible that he could still smell her? Half hopefully and half guiltily, he glanced toward the corridor that led to the restrooms. He could already imagine how she’d look emerging from the hall – pretty, perfect and way out of his league.