***
“The number you have reached is no longer in service…”
Jared could practically feel the blood leaving his face as he let the hand holding his phone drop to his lap. He could still hear the recording prattling on, but it scarcely registered. She’d changed her number.
He sat alone in his truck across the street from Dermamania. Starla’s car still wasn’t at work. This time, he’d planned to stop if she was there, but now several days in a row had gone by and she hadn’t been there once. Curiosity had become concern, and now outright panic, so he’d dared to try to call her. No luck. She’d said she was quitting, so maybe she’d followed through with that. But where was she? What was she doing?
Here they’d fought so hard to defeat a stalker, and he was on the verge of turning into one himself.
Jared had thought with Brian on the mend and everything settled on that front, she might reconsider her decision to leave her job; she might decide she needed her friends and stay at Dermamania after all. Okay, obviously that hadn’t happened. He drove to her house, going over in his head everything he needed to say, everything she deserved to hear. Maybe she would tell him to go to hell, in which case he supposed he would, forever doomed to replay in his head those hateful words they’d exchanged at his house the morning she left.
Her car wasn’t at the little house in the cul-de-sac either. There didn’t appear to be anyone there.
“Fuck!”
Jared clenched his fists to keep from punishing his steering wheel or dashboard. He didn’t relish resorting to the only solution he could imagine at this point, the one he’d shoved to the back of his mind from the start, but he wasn’t going to sit here and wait anymore either. All his life, waiting had gotten him jack shit.
The tattoo shop stayed open late—Jared could have spared himself some wounded pride and caught Ghost as he was leaving for the night, but he was ready to grovel on his knees in front of them all if need be. He snatched the door open and swept inside before he could talk himself out of it, immediately seeing that all of Starla’s things were gone from her station as if she had never been there. The cute blue-haired girl working across from Starla’s old workspace was staring at him with her carefully penciled eyebrows high in her smooth white forehead.
“Can I help you?”
“She’s not here anymore, dude.” Ghost spoke up from the back before he could answer. Jared hadn’t noticed him hunched over a client, working on an ankle piece. Muttering a thanks to the girl, he strode back. Ghost finished his line and wiped the ink before looking up at him, mouth set in a grim line. Obviously, he was waiting for Jared to ask the questions before he offered any information.
Pride went down hard, and it tasted like shit. The girl in Ghost’s chair looked back and forth between them in fascination.
“Where did she go?”
“Man, you know what she just went through.”
“All too well.”
“So I’m not going to tell you where she is so you can put her through it again.”
“You think I’d do that?”
“I don’t have to worry about it, because you’re not going to do anything. Leave her alone. She’s doing good, probably better than ever. Let that be enough for you.”
“Look, I know you don’t like me too much, for obvious reasons.” Ghost remained silent on that point, but he threw an apologetic glance at his client. “And a while back, the feeling was mutual. I’m over it now. It’s all in the past. You have to know by now that I would never do anything to hurt her. If she tells me to take a walk, then I walk.”
“That’s beautiful, dude.”
“Ghost, don’t be a shit.” The blue-haired girl had walked back to join them and pointed a finger at Jared. “You. Come talk to me.” She led him into a small break room that was off a short hallway where he waited impatiently while she got herself a drink out of the fridge. After offering him one, which he refused, she eyed him warily while she popped it open. Starla’s friends loved to torture him.
“Okay,” the girl began, “she told me everything that happened. Her version of it, anyway. Look, I’ve known that babe for years, and if there’s anyone on earth who realizes she’s made some questionable decisions in her life, it’s Star. You can’t be with her if you’re gonna throw them in her face. She told me she knew you’d turn from her at some point, and you only proved her right.”
“I know. I know. I promised her I wouldn’t, and I did. I only want to make it up to her.” He took a breath. “For the rest of her life.”
The girl practically hooted with laughter. “That’s a bold statement considering who we’re talking about. You sure about that?”
“As long as she’ll let me, then.”
Crossing her arms, Starla’s friend sobered and eyed him curiously. Then she stuck out one hand. “I’m Janelle.”
He shook it. “Nice to meet you.”
“Take care of her. Brian put her over the new shop in Everton. She has her own apartment over there now. I’ll give you the shop address, but it’s up to her if you get the rest. She’ll probably kill me.”
All that information made him smile inside. It was everything she’d wanted, wasn’t it? A complete change of scenery without quitting what she loved to do. No wonder she was doing so well, if Ghost could be believed. Did she really need him waltzing in to disrupt her new life? The smile died as quickly as it had come, but whatever happened, he would be happy for her. When it came to their future, or lack of one, as he’d promised Ghost, he would honor and support whatever choice she made.
But please, God, let her choose me.
“Thank you so much,” he said, accepting the card Janelle handed him announcing the grand opening of Dermamania’s new location.
“I think,” she said thoughtfully, “we should really try to blow her mind. Nothing too outrageous, or she really will kill me. Something fun.”
Whatever, he only wanted her. But they spent the next several minutes laying down plans.
As Jared headed for the front door of the shop almost at a run, Ghost, having finished with his client, called out to him. “Good luck, man. Not necessarily because I wish you well but because you’re gonna fuckin’ need it.”
Jared stopped at the door. “Come on. You wish me well at least a little, don’t you? After everything we’ve been through together?”
Ghost waved a hand toward the door, but Jared detected the hint of a grin on his face as the other guy turned away. “All right, all right, don’t push it. Get outta here.”
As he breezed out, he heard Ghost tell Janelle, “Fuckin’ need to rename this place Drama-mania.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
“Why are you sending him here?”
“You really need to meet this guy. And I’m booked up. He only wants his kids’ names in ink. You’ll be done in no time.”
Starla sighed as Janelle continued her pitch over the phone. “Whatever, send him. I’m open right now. Only because of the work, though, don’t expect any hookups. I told you—”
“I know what you told me, but never say never, right? Really, babe, this guy. Whew! Make sure you look cute, you know, just in case. Don’t go anywhere, he’ll be over in half an hour. Love ya!”
The line went dead, and Starla grumbled a curse. Look cute, right.
No.
She had on precisely two strokes of eyeliner and some three-hour-old lip gloss in the way of makeup, with her hair in a topknot to hide her two-inch-long dark roots. “Cute” wasn’t happening today, and she didn’t give a shit. “Cute” had gotten her into a fuck-ton of trouble. And lately she was far more comfortable in a pair of yoga pants than jeans. Having her own kitchen at last was a blessing and a curse, it seemed. If she wasn’t careful, she wouldn’t even be able to fit into her jeans before long, especially since she’d stopped smoking.
She didn’t care much about her weight either. Her cupcakes were awesome. So was wine. But damn, she did miss cigarettes.
/> Like now. Ordinarily, she would step out for a smoke since she had some time to kill before Janelle’s hottie client showed up. That wasn’t an option now, so she went for a walk around the block instead, allowing that maybe she cared a little more about an expanding waistline than she wanted to admit to herself.
It was a beautiful evening, warm and breezy, the kind of weather that turned one’s thoughts to summer. Emotionwise, she had good days and bad, but looking up at the clear, darkening cerulean sky, she decided today wasn’t too shabby.
She’d felt a little better before that phone call, though. Hopefully, her friends wouldn’t start playing matchmaker for her. Janelle should know better than that. What the fuck was wrong with her?
Some little kids were playing in the park across the street. Two of the girls reminded her of Ashley and Mia: one blonde, one brunette, both with bouncing ponytails. She stood there a long time on the sidewalk, watching them in the blue-gold evening sunlight while the breeze played with tendrils of her hair. The girls spun on the merry-go-round; they climbed the monkey bars and played tag. Their moms—or so she assumed—sat on a bench nearby, talking and laughing and sipping from Starbucks cups.
As Starla walked back to the shop, her melancholy was heavier on her shoulders than it had been.
Kids, she thought. Now I can’t even fucking see kids at play. I can’t bake cookies. I can’t smoke. A softball game was on ESPN at work the other day, and I couldn’t change the channel fast enough. I look at the blue sky…and I see his eyes.
She was late by the time she reached the front door, but for a few minutes there, she hadn’t thought she would be able to go back in. The crew at Dermamania South had seen her go to pieces often enough. She refused—fucking flat-out refused—for the crew at North to witness it too.
She was fine. It would be okay. She snatched open the door.
Jared was sitting in her chair.
If Starla had been holding anything, she would have dropped it. If she hadn’t made a solemn vow to keep it together a split second ago, she would have run back out the door where it was safe. The breath seized in her lungs and almost choked her before she managed to wrench it free.
Thank God no one else in the building seemed to be paying much attention to her. Jared got up and moved toward her, his caution evident in every step, while she stood still as a statue ensnared by that endless blue. He looked incredible. Even better than she remembered, if that were possible. Beard. Snug-fitting navy T-shirt that did wonderful things for his biceps and flat abs. Jeans that were made to show off those powerful thighs. And eyes that rivaled the great blue expanse outside.
She wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to die. What she did was walk past him toward her office in the back, telling him with only a glance to follow her. Wordlessly, he did.
She was going to kill Janelle. Kill her slowly.
Once in her office, she closed her door quietly, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared at the black-and-white tiles on the floor instead of him. Anywhere but at him. He was too beautiful; it hurt too much.
“I wanted to make sure you would be here,” he began, and she closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, wishing she could close her ears too. “But I was afraid if you knew I was coming, you wouldn’t be.”
Starla didn’t trust herself to speak yet.
“But I know what you’ve been through. So if you tell me to walk out and never speak to you again, I will. It’ll kill me, but I will.”
“No.” That came out fast enough. As hard as it was to stand in front of him, watching him walk away would be impossible.
His eyes softened in relief. “I miss you,” he said. “And I’m sorry.”
All the emotions she thought she’d dealt with came surging back. The embarrassment of her hasty, outraged words. How she’d aimed them at him so that they would cause the most damage. How hurt he’d looked. Yes, beneath his anger at her, she’d seen the heartbreak. She hadn’t known she held the power to make him look that way, that she had dominion over his heart to break it.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” she said softly.
“I do. I wish I’d handled things differently. I wish you’d stayed. I was…” He sighed and ran a hand through his soft black hair. She was momentarily fascinated by the way it caught the overhead lights. “I don’t have an excuse. I should have let myself unwind before we talked about any of it.”
“I’m sorry too,” she said, sounding so small. “I’m scared. I’m broken.”
He stepped closer, gently resting his hands on her upper arms. “You’re strong.”
“Yeah, I ran away from everything, like you said. I’m so strong.” For the first time, she dared to look up at him. At his eyes. Blue was too weak a description. They were striated with every hue from royal to denim to cobalt to lapis and every shade in between, shining all for her. Never again would she have to compare them to anyone else’s. She was ruined for all others.
“You took a leap. You believed in yourself. Everything crashed down around you, and you built something new from the ashes.”
“I’m the one who brought it all down.”
“You had help. Starla…I don’t want to save you if you don’t want me to. I don’t want to slay your dragons. I don’t want to crash into your new life and disrupt it. I only want to be with you whenever and however I can.” His big, warm hands moved from her arms to her face, framing her, forcing her to meet his hypnotic gaze. She trembled. “I don’t want to compete with your past. I don’t care about it. You’re not broken, you’re beautiful. I only want to love you. Let me. Just let me.” She tasted those last three words as his mouth descended on hers as if he couldn’t hold himself back from her another second, and oh fuck, he tasted good. Starla gasped from the suddenness, the warmth, the sheer relief that swooped through her body and lit it up like it had never been lit before. Even all the dusty, dark, cobwebbed corners of her soul brightened, though she knew she would have to see and face that ugliness before she could clean it out.
His strong arms caught her as her knees buckled, but she managed to somehow reach over and lock her office door. Oh God, he was sweet. She ground her hips into his and was rewarded with his hands going to her ass, forcing an even closer contact. “I do want that tattoo,” he murmured against her ear, and she chuckled.
“Really? You’re thinking about that now?”
“Yes. I’m thinking I’m not going to fuck you here. I’m thinking I’m going to take you back to your place, or mine if you want, but yours is closer. And that’s important. I have a lot of time to make up for. It could take all night.” His teeth caught her earlobe, giving a nibble. His big, hard hands squeezed her ass. Her entire body trembled as she felt his cock through his jeans, and she wondered how in the hell she would make it through the next few hours without that inside her, without his beard scratching her inner thighs, without his tongue on her clit.
“You make me wait that long, and I’m gonna be an animal,” she warned him.
“I’m counting on it.”
Hardest man to fuck I’ve ever met.
Luckily, she was rarely one to back down from a challenge.
***
Maybe he’d lost his mind, but if this was insanity then it felt damn good. He loved being in Starla’s chair, under her capable, insanely talented hands, feeling the expert bite of her needle. Although he started small with only Ashley’s and Mia’s names and birthday in a banner on the back of his shoulder, he could imagine doing this again. He got off on watching Starla be all professional.
“Maybe I’ll get a third name someday soon,” he joked, looking over his shoulder to give her a wink.
She practically leapt back. “What, mine? Oh no. That’s like the kiss of doom, and I refuse to doom us.”
“I think we’ll be all right.”
“Still.” She rolled her chair closer again, holding his gaze for a moment before going back to her work. “Let’s not take any chances.”
It was difficult to sit there with her presence radiating warmly against his back like a direct ray of sunshine. He wanted to look at her. He could smell her peachy scent—he could practically taste her. Soon he would, but dammit, he’d waited long enough.
At last, she was done, and when she handed him a mirror so he could see the finished product in the mirror on the wall, his mouth fell open. The design she’d drawn up had been simple, but on his skin she’d put such life into it. “I love it,” he said, momentarily at a loss.
“Do you?” She sounded anxious. Setting down the mirror, he turned and wrapped her in his arms, feeling her body stiffen a little because they were right there in full sight of everyone in the shop. After a second, though, she relaxed and laid her head against his naked chest.
“I do. Thank you. It’s beautiful.” The girls would be tickled. He couldn’t wait to show them.
They were like a couple of awkward teenagers on the drive over to her new place, stealing glances at each other and exchanging stupidly giddy grins. She directed him to a nice apartment complex and led him up a flight of stairs—he memorized the way for future reference. When she unlocked the door and yanked him inside intent on kissing him senseless, he stopped her and looked around at the sparse surroundings.
“Oh babe. If you need—”
Starla shushed him by placing a finger on his lips. “No. Not that I don’t appreciate whatever you’re about to offer, but I’ll get everything I need myself. I need to do that.”
Jared smiled against her finger, then caught it and gave the tip a nibble. “Whatever you say.”
“Actually the couch at Julie’s place is mine, but I figured Doug’s funk and beer stains are permanently embedded in it so I told her to keep the fuckin’ thing. What I do have,” she murmured, putting her soft lips back on his, “is my bed.”
“That’s all we need.”
She gave a squeak as he scooped her up in his arms and headed toward the open door that must be her bedroom. Inside, it was dark, with only light from the security lights outside filtering through the blinds to show him where the bed was. Before he even laid her down on it, she was trembling, a delicious little vibration he felt skittering along his own nerve endings. As soon as her back hit the mattress, her sweet, feverish hands roamed his body pulling at his clothes, and her mouth melted under his. Jared was about to bust his zipper by the time her hand sought him out, teasing along the edge of his erection before working to free it from his jeans. It seemed ten forevers passed before their combined efforts got him out and into her warm hands.