Logan
I plump a woman’s breast in my hand, imagining how the tattoo she wants across the top of it will sag in twenty years. “I don’t think this is the best place,” I say. I’m wearing gloves, and I’m behind the curtain at the back of the shop, which is where all the private tattoos are done. I tried to talk Paul, my oldest brother, into doing this one, but he didn’t have time. His daughter, Hayley, is with a sitter, and he has to go and pick her up. I volunteered to go instead, but he laughed, shook his head, and walked out.
I plump the woman’s breast again. I made her put pasties over her n**ples before I would even touch her. So it’s not like this is a sexual thing. For me. It is for her, apparently since she reaches for my belt buckle, and I brush her hands away, lifting my knee to block her. I don’t need this. I pass her shirt to her. “Put this on, please.”
Her lower lip juts out in an expression she probably thinks is sexy. I just think it’s pathetic. “You used to be so much more fun,” she pouts.
Yeah, back then I wasn’t in love with a woman I couldn’t have.
I’m still smarting over her father’s plan to move Trip in with her. The a**hole hadn’t even introduced himself to me. All he did was patronize me as though I’m stupid.
Are. You. An. Ass? Yes. You. Are. An. Ass.
But he is an ass who is now living with my girl.
The curtain shakes. It’s how people ask me for permission to enter in the private area of the shop. I call out, “Come on back.” Emily pops her head around the curtain. You busy? she asks, signing to me. I like it when she does that.
Despite what happened earlier, I’m so f**king happy to see her. She walks across the room slowly and then kisses me softly. I want to linger over her lips all day and all night. Never too busy for you. I’m glad the woman on the table has her shirt back on.
“What about me?” my so-called customer asks.
“I think you should put the tattoo on your side. Or below your breast, rather than at the top,” I suggest.
She shimmies her unbound boobs at me under her shirt. “Are they too big for a tattoo?”
I’ve seen it a million times. After a few years and a couple of kids, her boobs will be looking down at her belly button. That’s not a bad thing—all women are beautiful—it’s just bad for tattoos.
“I think it would maintain better if we put it below your breast. It’s for your boyfriend, right?” I look down at the tattoo. It’s a man’s name. She nods. Poor schmuck might have no idea she’s a whore who would do me as fast as I could blink. I’m going to run it really lightly because I have a feeling she’s going to be covering it up before long.
She nods, and I get out my equipment. “Can you wait for me to finish?” I ask Emily.
Emily and I have to talk. I have to find out what happened today after I left. I couldn’t sit there. I just couldn’t. Not while her father held Matt’s treatment over her head again. Had she consulted me I probably wouldn’t have let her do it the first time, and I’ll be f**ked sideways before I let her do it again. She’s not cattle that can be traded. She’s a f**king person, and I love her to death.
“I can wait,” she says. She goes out to sit with Friday, the girl who runs the front of the shop, while I work on the tattoo, and a half hour later, she’s laughing at something Friday is saying as I walk out with the newly tattooed girl. Emily looks up at me, blinking her pretty brown eyes. I have missed her so much, and I’m so glad she’s back. But I’m a little apprehensive.
The girl goes to pay Friday and slips her number in my pocket as she strolls by me. I toss it into the wastebasket after she’s gone. Emily’s eyebrows go up. “Should I be worried?” she asks, but she’s grinning.
I don’t feel like grinning. “Should I be?” I toss back. I motion for her to follow me to the back of the shop. She lets me help her to her feet and follows me.
“Are you done for the day?” she asks as I clean up my supplies.
I nod. “What happened after I left?”
She sobers. Her gaze skitters around. Fuck. That’s not good. “Not much,” she hedges, wincing.
I tip her chin up with my finger and force her to look at me. “I won’t let you trade yourself for Matt’s treatment again.”
She waves a breezy hand in the air. “Don’t worry about that. My mother told him she would pay for it herself if it came down to it. She loves you already.” She grins at me. “Something about those tall, tatted white boys. Older women love them.”
A laugh bursts out of my throat. Emily grins, but then she winces again.
“Tell me,” I coax. “It can’t be worse than what I’ve been imagining all day.”
“Trip’s going to stay at my place while he looks for an apartment of his own.” She waits for me to react. I draw in a deep breath, trying not to. “Are you angry?”
I set her back from me. “Are you f**king kidding me?” I ask. I’m so angry that I can barely see straight. She takes a step back from me, and I realize she’s never really seen me angry. She saw me irritated at the diner when she asked me about f**king someone else. She’s seen me cry. She’s seen me hurt, like when we thought Matt was going to die. But she’s never really seen me angry. I work to soften my stance. “I’m angry at them. And if I ever have to see Trip again I’ll probably flatten him.”
“Can I watch?” she asks. But she’s grinning. “See, here’s the thing,” she says hesitantly. “While Trip’s looking for a place to stay, I was hoping maybe you would let me stay at your apartment.” She holds her breath, waiting for my response.
“Are you f**king kidding me?” I ask again. But this time I wrap my arms around her while I do it and spin her around. She giggles against me, and I can feel the movement of it in her belly. She doesn’t try to push me away the way she did with Trip earlier when he tried this move on her. Of course, he wasn’t the happiest man in the whole f**king world when he did it. I guess that matters.
“Of course you can stay with me.” I tweak her nose. “Silly woman.”
I want her with me every minute of every day.
“Your brothers won’t mind?” she asks.
“They’ll be ecstatic,” I say. I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “They’ve missed you.”
“Does your apartment smell like sweat socks and stale pizza?” she asks.
I grimace. It probably does. I hold my finger and thumb an inch apart. “Maybe a little bit.”
She cuddles into me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She says something against my chest, but I can’t see her lips. I tip her face up. “What?” I ask.
“I love you,” she says. Then she says it again and again and again, and my heart swells. I kiss her like there’s no tomorrow, until we’re both breathless. The lights turn off.
“I think that’s our cue to leave,” I say. I shove the curtain back, and Friday glares at us, her purse over her shoulder.
“Did you just have sex back there?” Friday asks, deadpan.
“Oh my God, no,” I say.
I shove Friday’s shoulder gently, kind of like I would one of my sisters if I had any.
“That’s so unsanitary,” she warns.
Emily covers her mouth, trying not to laugh.
“If you did, go spray something back there, will you? Some antiseptic or something.” She scrunches up her nose.
“We didn’t,” I say, growling as I reach for Friday. She hates it when I give her noogies. She screams and ducks outside my reach.
“Well, when you do, don’t get germs all over the place. Put down some paper or something.” She’s serious about this, but it still makes me laugh. Now I won’t be able to get the idea of hav**g s*x with Emily out of my head when I’m at work.
“I’ll be sure he sanitizes,” Emily says. I wrap my arm around her, pulling her into my side. I kiss her, and if we don’t get out of here soon, I’ll have no choice but to take her back behind the curtain and then sanitize.
We follow Friday out the door, and she turns and locks it. “Good night,” she calls to us. It’s still early on a Saturday evening, so I don’t offer to walk her home. She turns away but then spins toward us again. “I’m glad you’re back, Emily,” she says, cupping her hands around her mouth as she yells. Then she walks away.
“She’s something, isn’t she?” Emily asks.
She’s definitely something. We just don’t know what.
“Do you want to go and get something to eat?” she asks. I realize she has her black canvas bag over her shoulder. I take it from her and put it over my own.
“You came prepared, huh?” I ask.
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t send me away.” She grins up at me. I couldn’t send her away even if I wanted to.
“Let’s go home and order a pizza,” I suggest. I look down at my watch. “Hayley will still be up. I’m sure she wants to see you.”
“Take me home,” she says. So I do.
Emily
We step through the door of the apartment Logan shares with his four brothers, and I jump back when they all yell, “Surprise!”
I look up at Logan who shakes his head and signs the word sorry. Then he pulls me to him, wrapping his arms tightly around me, but it’s not for more than a moment. His brothers rush at me. Sam and Pete, the youngest brothers in the family, get to me first. The twins attack me from both sides, squishing me between them like I’m the filling of a sandwich. They squeeze me, and they press their lips against each of my cheeks.
“If you lick me,” I warn. Sam already has his tongue out, but he sucks it back in really quickly and grins at me.
“Welcome home,” Sam says. He steps back, and Pete’s arms fall around me. He squeezes me tightly, clutching my head against his chest as his hands tumble through my hair.
“Would you cut it out?” I grouse, trying to flatten my hair back down. Pete laughs and steps to the side.
“Welcome home,” Paul says before wrapping me up in his arms. He really is a big guy, even bigger than Logan, and I think he could wrap around me twice.
“Thanks,” I murmur against his chest. I can barely breathe, but it’s worth it.
Then there’s Matt. He leans against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He doesn’t smile. His eyes are wet, and he blinks really quickly.
“Come here, big guy,” I say, making a come hither motion with my fingers. He pushes off the counter and starts toward me.
“I’m going to kiss your girl, Logan,” he warns. Logan’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t complain. He smiles and shrugs his shoulders.
Matt stops in front of me and tips my face up to his. He looks directly into my eyes and holds my gaze. “Thank you,” he says.
I gulp past the lump that’s suddenly in my throat and try to sound flippant. “For what?” I ask with a breezy wave. He won’t let me look away though. He holds my face between his palms and stares into my eyes.