The Halo Effect (Cupid Chronicles) (12 page)

BOOK: The Halo Effect (Cupid Chronicles)
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“Kyle is the accountant for the studio,” Ariel explained. “Michael hired her as his CPA at first, that’s how she met Jed. But then nature took its course and they fell in love.” She sighed dreamily. “Isn’t that terribly romantic?”

“Yes.” It was. Because if ever there was a case of opposites attract, they appeared to be it.

“Okay, come on. Let’s get you settled. He shouldn’t be much longer.”

Braelyn followed her blindly, wondering how she’d have any idea because she’d yet to even catch a glimpse of Noble. But as they neared an area of more workstations, the buzzing of a tattoo needle grew more incessant, as did a woman’s breathy laughter. Ariel continued to lead her toward a partitioned area that was obviously Michael’s with his humongous black leather jacket hung haphazardly over a chair in the corner.

Braelyn was drawn to the dozens, maybe hundreds, of beautiful sketches of angels that littered the workspace. She picked up one that looked a lot like she would’ve pictured Ariel as a little girl and smiled.

“They call Michael ‘The Angel,’” Ariel said behind her.

“I can see why.” She put the drawing down and spun around as Noble’s deep voice carried over the buzz of his needle. He was mumbling something, bringing about another giggle from the woman who she could now see as Ariel pulled her further into the work space. Indecision knotted in her gut as she caught a glimpse of the woman sitting in the adjacent station—obviously Noble’s, though he was nowhere to be seen. She was stunning. Statuesque, even sitting down. Long, blond, Barbie hair. Big, long-lashed, hazel eyes, which she was currently batting a million-miles-a-minute looking downward. Braelyn couldn’t help herself. She stepped up to the partition.

Shit. Barbie had a perfect, surgically enhanced body and was aiming all that come-hither charm at Noble, who was crouched down on a low stool tattooing her ankle.

She stepped one foot back, ready to bolt for it, when Ariel piped up. “Hey, Noble. Look who’s here.”

Slowly, he wiped the excess ink from Barbie’s shapely ankle, before turning his midnight eyes upward. His gaze locked onto hers and there was no turning back. What in the heck had she gotten herself into?

Noble couldn’t believe his eyes. He could scarcely breathe. What was Sweet Cheeks doing here? And dressed like
that
? All he could see was the cleavage-hugging candy pink top she had on and the sexy makeup job she’d done on herself and his mouth was friggin’ dry. Had to be a mirage.

He blinked and glanced at his client who’d been doing her best to come on to him all night. Her mouth was a pinched line and all her throaty laughter had disappeared. Her foot was tense in his hand as she eyed Sweet Cheeks watching from Michael’s station. Guess she wasn’t a mirage, after all.

He didn’t say a word. He couldn’t.

Finally, Braelyn offered him a small, timid smile. “I guess I’ve caught you on a busy night.” She stepped back. “I’ll see you later?”

Were those nerves in her voice? “Wait.”

She paused, her eyes darting between him and Ariel, who was watching silently.

“Is everything all right? Tristan?”

Her impossibly golden eyes widened a moment as if she hadn’t expected his question. Her glossy lips parted slightly to say something before she pressed them shut again, apparently lost for words. Finally, she tilted her head and smiled. “Everything is great.” She hiked her thumb over her shoulder. “But I think I’m just gonna go.”

He offered his client an apologetic glance’. “Gimme just a sec, okay?” They were nearly done anyway. He released her foot and stood, ignoring her jealous glare. He was never gonna take her bait tonight, so she could just get over herself.

He took the couple of long strides over to the partition just as Ariel ducked out to answer the phone at the front desk. He eyed Braelyn up and down. She looked good enough to eat in her sexy pink top and hip-hugging jeans. He glanced at her feet. She had on man-eater heels. What was she trying to do? Kill him? Like she hadn’t done enough damage kissing him the other night. It had been all he could do keeping his distance these last days, but it was for the best. Someone as perfect as Sweet Cheeks, much less her innocent kid, didn’t need to be dragged into his dark mess of a life.

But, damn if he didn’t want her there.
Selfish prick.

She took a breath and his eyes strayed to her chest. He licked his lips. “So . . .”

She cocked her weight onto one hip and it was incredibly sexy. “So.”

“I’m assuming you came here tonight to see me?” He lifted a brow.

She took a step in his direction. “I did.”

He was stupidly happy about that. “Really? And why is that?”

Another step until they were only separated by the partition and their breath. She peered up into his eyes and smiled. “A couple of reasons.”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans to keep from touching her because her scent had reached out and wrapped itself around him. “What can I do for you, Braelyn?”

God, how her eyes bored into him. She pitched her voice low so only he heard. “You can quit ignoring me. I had a nice time at dinner with you.” Her eyes dipped down and landed on his lips. “I thought you did, too. But if you didn’t, just say so. Otherwise . . .”

Was his chicken shit avoidance that obvious? “I had a good time,” he interrupted her, his voice nearly a whisper so his client wouldn’t hear. He was already feeling the daggers she was throwing with her eyes at his back.

She turned startled eyes up to his. “Then why on earth have you been avoiding me? Is it because I kissed you?”

Jezus!
The woman was something else. If only she knew how right on the money she was. “It’s nothing like that,” he lied. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Oh,” she said. But the deflated expression on her face clearly indicated she didn’t believe him. “Okay. That’s settled then.”

“Fine.” Though he didn’t know how she thought he’d ever be able to ignore her dressed like that. Fuckin’ A. “But you said a couple things. What else did you want?” he asked with a half-smile.

She swallowed and glanced behind him to his nearly forgotten client then back to his face. “I want you to help me fulfill one of my fantasies.”

Chapter 15

“Dude,
that’s
your neighbor, isn’t it?” Jed cornered Noble alone after his very pissed-off client left with a nice tattoo but no headway with her artist.

He glanced toward Sweet Cheeks where she sat, sexy as she pleased, in the chair recently vacated in his station. “Yeah.”

“I was wondering if I’d ever get to meet her.” He laughed and watched as Noble fiddled with some bottles of ink. “Dude.”

Noble glanced up. “What?”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Avoiding her. “Nothing. Just cleaning up for a sec. Why?”

Jed rolled his eyes. “Cuz you’ve got a very hot chick waiting for you in your station.” He glanced over. “Impatiently, I might add. What does she want?”

Noble’s heart began to thud uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure he could do this. Inspiration struck. He smiled at Jed. “Why don’t you come talk to her and find out?”

Jed wrinkled his brow, but followed him over. Braelyn’s automatic smile when he approached nearly melted his resolve. She sat straighter in her chair.

“Braelyn, this is my good friend, Jed.” He inclined his head.

Jed stepped forward and extended his hand. “Hey, there.”

Her answering grin and the spark of interest in her eye was enough to make Noble want to snatch her hand away from Jed’s, but he kept himself in check. “Jed, my neighbor, Braelyn.” He waited a beat. Two. “So, Braelyn here wants a tattoo.”

Now it was Jed’s turn to show a spark of interest as he eyed Braelyn up and down as if he was seeing her for the first time. “Really?”

Her lips tilted up in a soft, sweet smile. “Really.”

Noble smiled and put a friendly hand on Jed’s shoulder. “And I think you should do it, bro.”

Jed and Braelyn both shifted startled eyes to him. Jed found words first. “What? Me?”

“Yeah. You’d do a great job,” Noble said, trying to sound like he was just looking out for Braelyn’s best interest. When really he wasn’t sure he could stand to have his hands on her flesh for any length of time and still keep his sanity. And he didn’t even know where she had in mind for her tat yet. He didn’t want to know. Jed was a married man. He could handle it.

Jed backed up a step. “No better than you, man. You know that.” He glanced at Braelyn, confusion clouding his eyes. “Sorry. I have an appointment anyway.” He turned back to Noble as he inched away. “I’m sure you can handle it beautifully. It was really nice to meet you, Braelyn,” he said as he made his way to his back office.

She murmured something that he couldn’t make out over the rushing in his ears before turning the full force of those tawny eyes on him. “What the hell was that?”

“What do you mean?”

She leaned forward and grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt. “I thought we were through with the avoiding me crap.”

He quirked a brow. “We are.”

“Really? Then why were you trying to turf me off to your best friend just then?”

He didn’t have an answer.

She kept going anyway. “And when I asked you to help me with my little tattoo fantasy, I meant
you
. Not your friend.” She yanked him closer until their breath mingled. “You.”

His pants got distinctly tighter as the fire whipped from her eyes. He’d never imagined Sweet Cheeks would have this side to her. He was definitely in trouble. He had to get the upper hand here or he was a goner. He planted his palms on either side of her on the armrests and leaned down until they were nearly nose-to-nose.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, watching the fire melt into embers in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter whose needle is on your skin. Jed would’ve done you a fine tattoo. No reason to be offended.” His eyes skimmed down to her lips and lingered. “For that matter, there’re hundreds of tattoo places in town. Why here? Why now?” He peered back into her eyes.

She licked her lips. “That’s simple.” She reached up and gripped both of his biceps. “Because I trust you, Noble. And only you.”

Holy hell. He jumped back as if she wielded a branding iron.

She eyed him strangely. “What?”

“Nothing,” he lied. “It’s fine. So, what do you want done?” He grabbed his sketch book and pencil from the counter while praying she wanted something tiny and simple on a non-sexy, benign part of her body—if there were such a part.

She didn’t say anything. He glanced at her as he sat on his stool. “Well?”

“You’re going to draw it?”

“Uh, yeah. What did you think was gonna happen?”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips again and she shifted in the seat. “I, uh, thought you’d just have a book of designs for me to pick from or something. I had no idea I’d be troubling you with a custom job.”

He tapped the tip of his pencil on the pad. “It’s what we do here. Jed does have a few books of designs in his office, but we prefer to give our clients the benefit of customized work whenever possible.”

“Oh.” Her eyes roamed the studio as the front door sounded and Ariel’s voice floated back to them as she greeted some more customers. Probably Jed’s appointment. “I’m not keeping you from any other work, am I?”

“Nope. Don’t have another client ‘til midnight. You’re good.” He shifted his weight. She was good, all right. “But we probably do need to get a move on if I’m gonna sketch something up and get it on you in time.” He smiled and enjoyed the way her eyes widened. He would be the one wielding a needle, after all. “So, let’s start with this. Where do you want this bad boy?”

She blushed and he grinned. But a dangerous gleam lit up her eyes as she pointed to her hip, just below her hipbone.

Fuck
.

He bit back a groan as desire rushed through his veins like a shot of tequila, knowing that meant her jeans would have to be peeled back as well as her panties. If she was wearing any. She’d better be friggin’ wearing some.

He swallowed and nodded. “All right.” He kept his eyes trained on the paper in front of him. “What did you have in mind?”

“How about a black widow spider?”

His eyes snapped up. She was grinning at him. His gut clenched. She was so damn beautiful. “I’m just kidding. Would you find me too girly if I asked for a pretty little butterfly, say about this big?” She made her fingers into a circle a bit bigger than a half-dollar.

“Not too girly at all. I think it’ll suit you.”

He set about drawing the best damn butterfly of his life. He tuned everything out as his pencil arced across the paper, the
scratch, scratch, scratch,
lulling him as his creativity took over. He only had to erase once as he adjusted the curve of a wing to make it more graceful. He wanted it to appear like it was in flight on her flesh. Not just a static tattoo that was placed like a pretty picture to be looked at and admired. It needed to breathe and move with her. And now he was a part of it, part of her, as the curve of the wing became two wings and the single butterfly became two butterflies dancing together in flight.

He swirled one last stroke then sat back and studied his sketch. He glanced at his watch. It’d only taken him just under fifteen minutes, though it felt much longer.

She hopped up and peeked over his shoulder. “Noble . . .”

“I can fix it,” he interrupted. “I got a little carried away. I know you didn’t want two butterflies.” He glanced up at her, his blood thrumming with the intoxicating rush of creativity. Of her. Her eyes only added fuel to the flame, sparking it into something sensual.

She reached out and touched his hand holding the pencil. “Don’t you dare.” Her eyes dipped to his mouth. “It’s gorgeous. Perfect.” She caressed his arm before sitting back down. “Now do whatever you gotta do to put it on my skin.”

He swallowed, nodded. “Be right back.”

He ran to make the transfer, thankful for the breather. He’d never had a tattoo boggle his mind like this. He returned with his head slightly clearer. “Now, what colors did you want?”

“What do you think will look best? I’m pretty open here and I trust your opinion. Just no green.”

He pulled out some bottles of ink to show her. “With your skin . . .” Your perfect fuckin’ skin . . . “I think this blue would be good. And purple.”

“You mean my super pale, white girl skin?” She smiled and bit her lip.

“Ah, no. Just fair.” He tried to smile back.

Her gaze seared him. “We can’t all have perfect, natural tans like you, Noble Blackfeather.”

That was probably the only “perfect” thing about him. He didn’t comment. Her eyes dipped to the bottles of ink. “Blue and purple are good. I like ‘em.”

Now came the really hard part. “I have to lay you back now,” he said.

“Okay.”

He adjusted his equipment and re-checked the ink, then he slowly used the automated motor to lean Braelyn back until she was nearly flat on her back. He felt her eyes on his face but he didn’t meet her gaze. Not yet. He had to keep this professional if he had any hope of keeping “Little Noble” in check.

He finally looked at her. She didn’t seem nervous at all. In fact, she looked . . . serene lying there in his chair, totally vulnerable to him.

“You’ll need to unbutton your jeans and ease them back a little bit,” he said, hearing the gruffness in his own voice and wondering if she noticed it, too.

She blinked slowly, then her hands reached for the button of her jeans. It gave way easily, followed by the distinctive rasp of her zipper. She peeled back the denim like a candy wrapper, revealing hot pink lace that matched her top.

He had to glance away and stifle a moan while she pushed her panties out of the way.

“I’m ready.”

He wasn’t. There was no way he was going to be able to do this. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Noble?”

The front door sounded yet again and the sound of young men arguing good-naturedly carried, as well as Ariel’s high-pitched voice. Jed’s laughter. He focused on the Asian Muzak to calm his frayed nerves.

“Noble?” she said again, concern coloring her voice. “You okay?”

His eyes popped open. “Yeah, I’m good.” He picked up the butterfly transfer and focused on her hip. Her impossibly perfect little hip. He pressed the image to her skin as gently as he could get by with, using the very tips of his fingers to rub it onto her flesh with circular motions. Maybe if he distracted himself . . .

“So, what’s Tristan up to tonight?”

“He’s hanging out with Michael.”

He pulled the transfer paper back. The image was perfectly copied on her skin. “Cool. And does he know about this?” He handed her a mirror so she could okay the placement both lying and standing.

She popped up and looked at the outline on her perfect hip. He glanced away. “No. I’m not sure I’ll tell him, either.”

He turned back to catch the laughter in her smiling eyes. “I don’t want to encourage him. He already has hero worship for you and Michael, you know.”

He didn’t answer that. He didn’t know what to say. He was nobody’s hero.

He took her hand and helped her hop back in the chair and reposition herself. “And how’s work?” he asked.

She nodded. “It’s great.” She studied the ink outline one last time. “Looks good. Go for it.” She handed him the mirror with a sexy smile.

He wheeled his stool over to her side and slapped on some latex gloves. He studied her eyes, but saw nothing but trust in them. “Ready?”

“Oh, I’ve been ready.” She took a deep breath and flinched with a cute little squeak when he wiped her down with the cold disinfectant. “Yikes!”

He switched on his gun and the buzz resounded through the small space like a welcome friend. He waited a moment to let her get accustomed to the noise. He dipped the needle into the black ink and started with the outline first. He wasn’t sure how he felt about inking such beautiful, unmarked skin, but at the first pass of his needle, a rush of possession surged through him with a fierce punch.

Mine.

He inked and wiped. Inked.

He got through the outline of the first butterfly before he paused to look at her. “You doin’ okay?”

She tilted her head and smiled. “I’m fine. It’s not bad at all. I expected much worse.”

She’s perfect.
Dangerous thoughts tumbled through his soul as his heart involuntarily yearned for her. He used all of his willpower to bring that train of thought to a screeching halt. He dipped his head in acknowledgement and got back to work.

Forty minutes later, two perfectly inked butterflies were dancing in free flight on Braelyn’s sexy-as-sin hip. She cooed over the results before he applied a thick layer of moisturizing ointment and a loose bandage.

“Thank you so much, Noble. It’s more beautiful than I’d imagined!”

“No problem. My pleasure.” Definitely his pleasure.

He handed her a sheet of care instructions and led her to the front desk so she could settle up with Ariel. He trusted that Ariel wouldn’t let on that he’d given Braelyn a drastically reduced price on her tattoo.

He left her at the front desk with a perfunctory wave and a half-hearted “See ya later,” before sauntering off and stopping at Jed’s station to shoot the shit. He needed to get his equilibrium back because he was totally off-kilter.

Jed watched him approach. “So? How’d the tattoo go with cutie next door?” he asked with a wicked grin.

Noble didn’t want to talk about it, but he knew if he didn’t answer Jed would just give him more crap. “Fine. It came out really good.”

Jed opened his mouth for what looked to be a smart-ass retort, but his eyes darted over Noble’s shoulder. He snapped his lips shut and smiled.

Noble pivoted to glance over his shoulder. Braelyn was coming their way, her hips swaying like a cat stalking its prey. She sauntered right up to him and turned her golden gaze up to his. “Noble Blackfeather,” she accused.

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