The Halo Effect (Cupid Chronicles) (11 page)

Chapter 14

Braelyn mulled over what Ariel said for two days. The woman had to be nuts. Had to be. But then why did it make some sense to her in her heart of hearts? Had to be one too many romance novels and being celibate too long.

As she busied herself scrubbing Tristan’s bathroom, she mentally ticked off all the things she needed to remember:

Tristan—and Tristan alone—was her sole focus. Not her raging hormones. Period.

Men were pigs. Hello. Rory and Julian?
Focus, Braelyn!

Ariel was no psychic. She had no idea what man was for her. If there was even such a thing!

And even if that man existed, and even if it was by some wonderful, crazy miracle Noble . . . he wasn’t interested.

She dumped Comet into the tub and began scouring vigorously. He was a pretty hot ticket though, she’d give him that. Even if he was a bit gruff and could stand a lesson or two in the fine art of conversing. But he was gentle and kind-hearted. Why else would he have done so much to help her? It definitely wasn’t to get in her pants!

She sat back on her haunches, her thoughts drifting back to her birthday. Tristan had seemed convinced that Noble couldn’t read. Surely that wasn’t the case. Maybe he’d simply wanted Tristan to bake the cake on his own.

She bent over and rinsed the bathtub. But as the water swooshed down the drain, something niggled at her mind.
Illiterate?
No way.

She stood and reached for clean towels to hang on the rods. He’d ordered at the restaurant without reading the menu. But he
was
familiar with the menu.

She huffed out a sigh and left the bathroom. It didn’t matter one way or the other and it wasn’t her business.

She made her way to her room to clean up and get dressed. It was time to face the music. Something else wouldn’t leave her mind—or her heart—as well, and it was high time she did something about it.

Braelyn was dabbing on the last of her mascara when Michael’s voice boomed out as Tristan let him in the front door. Nerves zipped through her stomach, but she tamped them down and wiped her damp palms on her jeans.

There are many men in the world. But only one for you. Follow your heart and go to him.

She didn’t know what her heart had to do with it, but she couldn’t ignore this storm brewing between them any longer.

She slipped on her strappy heels, wiggling her freshly painted toes, and made her way down the hall. She spotted Michael and Tristan bent over a video game case. Her son must be showing off his new bounty.

She cleared her throat. “Um, Michael?”

“Yes, ma’am?” He glanced up. “Whoa. You look real nice, Miss Campbell.”

Tristan’s eyes bugged open. “Where’re you goin’, Mom?”

“Out.” She kept her gaze on Michael. “May I speak to you for a moment? Alone?”

He dipped his brows. “Well, sure. I guess.” He handed Tristan back the video game. “Be right back.” Tristan didn’t act happy. He plopped down on the couch in a huff.

Braelyn spun around then headed to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of iced tea. She waited until she heard Michael come in behind her before turning to face him. She took a big swallow, watching him over the top of her glass.

He studied her quizzically and she suddenly realized they’d never been alone in a room before.

She set her glass on the counter and tugged on her halter-top, fervently hoping it wasn’t screaming
desperate
. “Michael, I was wondering . . .” How do you casually gather information about someone from one of his good friends without it being obvious?

She swallowed. You didn’t. You just jump in feet first and let the chips fall where they may. “Is Noble single?”

Michael’s face relaxed considerably. “Yes, ma’am. He’s single.”

So, now came the hard part. She picked at the cuticle on her thumb for a moment. Michael waited patiently. “Do you know . . .” She peeked up from under her lashes. “Do you think . . . Is he avoiding me?”

Michael pulled out a chair and sat. “Well, I dunno, ma’am. Why do you ask?”

Now she felt stupid. “I just thought . . . never mind.”

“No. He’s obviously hurt your feelings.”

She glanced at his face. The sincerity in his eyes spoke of a knowledge she’d give anything to share. Must be a guy-to-guy thing she decided as Michael continued. “Noble’s had it rough in his life and does things without thinking sometimes because he doesn’t know any better. I’m sure whatever he did, he didn’t mean to.”

She held up a hand. “Oh, he didn’t
do
anything. Quite the opposite, in fact.” She sighed. “I thought we had a nice time at dinner.” A zinger of a kiss, too.
Sigh
. “But, now I think he’s avoiding me. I guess he doesn’t like me.”

Michael smiled again. “Miss Campbell, I can assure you that Noble likes you. I don’t think that’s the problem.”

Braelyn tilted her head. “Then what is it? Is it Tristan?”

“Oh, no. I don’t think so. Now, I can’t speak for my friend, but my guess is that he likes you a little too much, if you know what I mean.”

She sat a moment, trying to absorb the possibility. Liked her
too
much? She glanced at Michael. “You really think so?”

He nodded.

Well. Only one way to find out. She tried not to blush as she worked out the details in her mind that had been so clear just an hour ago. She wiped an invisible piece of lint from her jeans and turned her eyes back to Michael. “Well, I’m not sure if I buy that. Guess we’ll see.”

He shrugged.

“So, Michael,” she continued, “you busy tonight?”

“Uh, no, ma’am. I guess not. It’s my night off work and I was just gonna head home after my time here with Tristan.”

“May I ask a big favor?”

He seemed hesitant, as if she might ask him to eat a worm or something. “Okay.”

“Could you hang out with Tristan for a few hours longer tonight? He’s usually good on his own, but I might be out late.”

“Oh.” His brows relaxed as they both stood. “Sure. No worries.”

“One more thing.”

He stopped on his way out of the kitchen. “Yeah?”

“Noble’s working tonight, right?”

He nodded.

“Perfect. Then I’ll need directions to Gentry’s.”

Let Operation Sexy Neighbor commence.

Braelyn sucked in a breath as she sat in her compact SUV facing the entrance to Gentry’s tattoo studio. Surprisingly she wasn’t nervous. In her rearview mirror she caught a glimpse of Noble’s truck parked behind her next to a black Mustang. A mint-colored Prius sat incongruously to the other side.

She shifted her attention back to the entrance of the studio, which was not at all what she would’ve pictured for a tattoo shop. It was in a nice part of town. The building was clean, contemporary, stylish even, the lettering on the sign was crisp and professional. The clientele that she’d seen coming and going in the few minutes she’d been sitting in her car had been diverse. Businessmen, college girls, musicians with dreadlocks and guitars slung across their backs. Even a couple of jocks in their University of Texas athletic workout gear.

She flipped down her sun visor’s lighted mirror and refreshed her lip gloss and her courage before grabbing her purse and making her way to the door.

She glanced up as a small bell tinkled above her head signaling her entrance. Soothing Asian music played overhead as she stepped forward onto smooth wooden floors and let the door swish shut behind her. She moved forward toward the front desk, bypassing the college girls who were flirting with the athletes and telling them about the belly-button piercings they were there to get. A miniature fountain gurgled pleasantly in the corner and lovely artwork hung on the walls showcasing Japanese cherry blossoms and koi fish.

The faint buzz of a tattoo needle began in the background but Braelyn couldn’t see where it was coming from. She wondered if it was Noble or another tattoo artist.

She stepped up to the desk and waited for the woman on the phone to turn around. She knew this was her last chance to duck out. The cynical Braelyn sat on her shoulder like a little devil and reminded her that all men were scum-sucking pigs and encouraged her to leave while she still had the chance. Her feet were twitching in her cutest, strappy heels, eager to run at the least prompting.

But, somewhere deep inside, eternally hopeful Braelyn, perhaps masochistic-glutton-for-punishment-Braelyn, hoped for something better. Something real. Something meant to be.

“Okay, now,” the woman behind the counter said in a soft, slightly familiar voice that sounded more like a small girl than a woman. “We’ll see you then. Bye, bye.” She hung up and spun around, a smile lighting up her ice-blue eyes. “Hello. How can I . . . Braelyn? What are you doing here?” She eyed her up and down with obvious interest in her choice of clothes, but she didn’t say anything.

“Ariel?” Braelyn was shocked. Now she was truly busted. She felt like a teenager caught sneaking in after partying past curfew. It was one thing to know each other in the nursing home volunteer role. Quite another here, where she was quite literally taking Ariel’s advice. She gripped the counter and was sure all the blood drained from her face. Meeting here meant Ariel knew Noble.

Holy. Crap.

Play it cool.
Braelyn forced a smile. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Ariel flitted from behind the counter. “I work here, silly. Didn’t I ever tell you that?”

She shook her head. Uh, no. She would’ve remembered that handy little tidbit. Quite the small world.

Ariel put an arm around her shoulder and led her to a quiet corner of the lobby. “So what brings you by if you didn’t know I worked here?” A sly gleam glinted in her eye like she somehow knew the answer already. Or maybe that was just Braelyn’s imagination.

I’m taking your advice? Sounded a little too hokie. “I’m actually here to see Noble. Is he busy?”

“Oh. Well, he’s with a client right now, but he should be finished soon. Come on.” She held out her hand.

“Where are we going?”

Ariel winked. “To wait for him. No reason for you to sit in the lobby here when Michael’s station is empty right next to Noble’s. You can wait there.”

“Michael’s station?” she repeated dumbly.

Ariel took her hand and drug her along with a smile. “Yes. Michael and I go way back. He’s not here tonight.”

Her head spun as the coincidences stacked up. “Uh, no, he’s at my house.”

Ariel came to an abrupt halt and she nearly slammed into her. “Your house?”

Now it was her turn to smile. “Yes. He’s my son’s Big Buddy.”

Ariel snapped her fingers. “Right. Right. I remember now. What a wonderful co-in-ki-dink!”

It was, indeed. She offered another small smile and continued to follow Ariel to the main floor of work stations.

As the sounds of strange instruments buzzing and conversation floated about, her nerves reared their ugly heads. But, she’d come all this way. She’d see it through. She straightened her purse strap on her shoulder, rolled her lips to spread her gloss, and kept on truckin’ with her back ramrod straight so her assets would be shown to their best advantage. Might as well come out swinging.

The main floor of the studio was just as classy as the exterior and lobby. The place was clean, well kept, and neatly decorated. Black chest-high partitions offered the clients some privacy, but it was still open and airy. To her right, a young bald man sat on a stool tattooing a colorful dragon onto a man’s back while they joked about something to do with Chevy engines vs. Mustangs.

As she passed, the tattoo artist glanced up and pierced her with intense blue eyes the color of deep, clear sapphires. His brows dipped ever-so-slightly as he tilted his head and offered her an enigmatic smile before turning back to his work.

There was something about him. So intense. He was good lookin’, too. Maybe if Noble wasn’t interested . . .

A woman zipped by, stirring the air with the scent of expensive perfume. She appeared so out of place, Braelyn had to glance over her shoulder for a second look: loose-fitting, fashionable linen slacks that gushed
money,
cashmere sweater, pearls, cute haircut. Her unmistakably designer glasses were pushed up into her hair, a stack of papers were clenched in her fist, and a harried expression darkened her face. Braelyn watched as the woman stomped right up to the blue-eyed tattooing hottie and shoved one of the forms under his nose.

He calmly set his tattoo needle aside and studied it for a moment. They exchanged a few heated words before the matter seemed to get resolved. The woman’s face finally relaxed and her hands dropped her sides. Braelyn was just about to turn and keep following Ariel when the woman bent and kissed the man. And we’re talkin’
kissed
the man, like a get-a-room kiss. Braelyn couldn’t have been more shocked if she’d sprouted wings.

Then the woman stepped back, pivoted, and strode away with a smirk as though she’d just won an argument. She breezed past Braelyn and Ariel.

“Hey, Kyle. How’s it goin’?” Ariel asked.

The woman stopped and smiled. “Great. Jed is just seeing the error of his ways, is all. We don’t want the IRS breathing down our neck again with another audit, do we?”

“Absolutely not.” Ariel glanced at Braelyn. “Kyle, this is Braelyn. She’s here to see Noble.”

“Oh, I . . .” Braelyn tried to interrupt. There was nothing about her being here that warranted an introduction to his friends.

But the woman smiled broadly and held out her hand. “So good to meet you. I’m Kyle Gentry. The stubborn one over there—” She indicated the man she’d just locked lips with—“is my husband, the owner of this place, and Noble’s best friend.”

Braelyn accepted her hand and returned the generous smile. “Nice to meet you, too. Braelyn Campbell. Noble’s neighbor.” And that’s all.

“
Ooooh
,” she said, like being Noble’s neighbor meant something.

Braelyn studied her, waiting for an explanation. None was forthcoming. The woman straightened the papers in her hand. “Well, it was good to meet you, Braelyn. I hope to see you around again.” She pivoted and made her way to a back office and shut the door.