Live Without Regret (A Touch of Fate)
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Authors: K.L. Grayson
Tags: #A Touch of Fate novella
Live Without Regret
Copyright © 2016 by KL. Grayson
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Cover Photo Photographer: Tomasz Zienkiewicz
Cover Designer:
Perfect Pear Creative Covers
Editor: S.G. Thomas
KL Grayson Bio Pic Photographer: Elisabeth Wiseman Photography
Formatting by
Champagne Formats
ISBN: 978-0-9907955-8-2
Table of Contents
To Liz.
Thank you for believing in me when I was struggling to believe in myself.
I
push the door open and a small bell signals my entry. At best, InkSlingers is a complete dive, not near as sleek-looking as some of the newer tattoo parlors. But this place has one thing—one person, really—that sets them above all the rest.
Connor Jackson.
Not only is he one of the most highly recommended tattoo artists in the city, but two years ago he won top prize on the reality show
Inked
. If I recall, the grand prize was two hundred thousand dollars to be used toward the establishment of his own parlor. So why in the hell he works in this dinky building off the corner of Hampton and Third, I have no idea. And to be honest, I don’t really care.
“Hello?” I look around. The place is eerily quiet, not a soul in sight. Glancing down at my watch, I check the time. Sure enough, it’s fifteen minutes earlier than my scheduled appointment. That’s me…Miss Punctuality.
I spend the next five minutes pacing across the waiting room of the shop without seeing a single person, all the while wondering who in the hell leaves their shop unattended?
Just when I’m about ready to say screw it and walk out, the front door opens and once again the bell dings. I spin around on my heel, prepared to chew someone’s ass for making me wait, and then nearly trip over my own feet when I see the behemoth of a man standing in front of me.
Without permission, my eyes rake him over from head to toe. His dirty blond hair is shaggy and clearly hasn’t been trimmed for months. He could probably pull it into one of those man-bun things that seem to be all the rage, but instead it hangs loose with the stray strands tucked behind his ears.
My eyes travel south, taking in his plain black tee that stretches tight across his broad chest and even tighter around his biceps. A colorful sleeve of tattoos decorates his right arm, and as far as I can tell the left is completely bare. He’s sexy, in a rugged sort of way. He’s also the complete opposite of the guys I’m normally attracted to, yet I find myself enraptured.
The stranger clears his throat, and my eyes snap up to find piercing blue eyes staring back at me. When he cocks an eyebrow, I realize I’ve been caught checking him out. My first instinct is to avert my eyes and murmur an apology, but then I realize that’s what the old Brittany would do. And I dropped her off by the curb a long time ago.
“What?” I say, shrugging unapologetically.
“Were you checking me out?” The sound of his gravelly voice does things to me that a voice should never be able to do to another human being. I squeeze my thighs together to suppress the tingling it caused.
“Well, that depends.”
“On what?”
“Do you want me to check you out?” I ask.
He nods and moves past me, his shoulder grazing mine. “Bold. I like it. What can I do for you?”
Furrowing my brow, I tilt my head. I totally had him pegged for my next conquest—a.k.a. one-night stand—but I have a strange feeling he just brushed me off. I shake my head, trying to remember the question. Oh yeah. Connor. “I have a ten o’clock appointment with Connor. He’s late.”
The stranger looks down at his watch and then back at me. “He’s not late. It’s only nine fifty-five.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, fine.” I walk over and plop down in a waiting room chair, then cross my legs, knee over knee. “Will you call him and see how much longer he’s going to be?”
“You in a hurry?” the guy asks.
Not really. No. “Maybe.”
He nods and sets his to-go coffee cup and brown paper bag on the front desk, then sits down and pulls out his phone. “He won’t be long.”
“Let’s hope,” I mumble, grabbing a
Tattoo Weekly
magazine off the table in front of me.
“Would you like a doughnut?” I glance up to see the man holding up a chocolate-covered doughnut. It looks delicious, and I’m two seconds away from accepting his offer when I remember my closet full of clothes that are becoming too tight. That one doughnut will easily take me hours at the gym to burn off.
“No, thank you.”
He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
Smiling tightly, I look back at the magazine and spend the next several minutes absently thumbing through it. I skim a few articles then toss the magazine on the table and grab another, my frustration growing with each passing second.
“Are you ready?”
I glance up to find the sexy stranger standing in front of me. Putting the magazine back on the table, I look around. “Is Connor here?”
The man smiles, his full lips parting to reveal perfectly white teeth. There’s a smudge of chocolate near the corner of his mouth, and I briefly wonder what he would do if I stepped forward and licked it off.
“I’m Connor,” he says. His words catch me off guard and all thoughts of chocolate drift from my mind. My eyes roam his face, only this time I take a closer look.
“You’re Connor?” I ask incredulously.
“Wow,” he says, chuckling. “Don’t look so surprised. I take it I’m not what you expected.” His voice is clipped, and I instantly berate myself for the way that came out.
“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. You’re an incredibly attractive man. It’s just that you look different from when you were on the show. You didn’t have the facial hair—or the long hair, for that matter—both of which I find unbelievably sexy.” Connor’s eyes widen and I realize what I said. “I can’t believe I just said that. Damn it,” I mumble, averting my eyes. This is what happens when I get nervous, and for some strange reason, Connor makes me nervous. Sighing, I decide to give up. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
My eyes are trained on the floor as I contemplate leaving to avoid further embarrassment. I’m still undecided when a pair of Chuck T’s enters my line of sight. I smile because those are my favorite shoes. “So you like the beard?” he says suggestively, causing me to look up. His blue eyes are swirling with a mixture of amusement and lust.
“I like the beard.”
Connor grins as though he just found out he won a prize. Without saying a word, he steps away and I follow behind. Leading me into a small room in the back of the shop, he says, “Did you find something in the magazine that you want?”
“I actually have a picture of what I want.”
“Let’s see it.”
I walk toward him and hold out my phone. Connor takes the phone, examines the picture then looks up.
“Where do you want it?”
“Here.” Lifting my right arm, I tug my shirt up and point to the location along my rib cage, just under my breast.
“I like that,” he says, handing me my phone. “But what if we angled it just a bit like this…” Connor puts a finger at the top of my ribs and a tiny zap of electricity jolts through my body. He looks up, his eyes searching mine before he drags the tip of his index finger along my skin. His touch leaves a trail of goose bumps. My pulse quickens, and it takes everything I have not to beg him to keep touching me when he pulls away.
“What do you think?” he asks. His pupils are dilated, his breathing a bit faster, and I get the feeling he was as affected by that as I was.