Page 28 of Inked Daddies

Before I can respond, Hugo beats me to it. “Of course it’s okay,” he says, grinning as he leans casually against the counter. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Marie’s cheeks turn pink, and I bite back the urge to tell Hugo to knock it off.

“I, um…” She hesitates, fiddling with the strap of her bag. “I was thinking about getting a tattoo.”

That catches me off guard. “A tattoo?”

She nods, her eyes darting to mine. “Yeah. A black cat. Small, nothing too crazy.”

I stare at her, my mind racing for several reasons. One, I can’t figure out why she would want a black cat tattoo—that’s not exactly her vibe. Two, just seeing her walk into the shop made my breath catch in my chest, and I don’t know how to stop that from happening. And three, Hugo’s words are lodged deep in my brain.

A show.

Not a tattoo.

Worse is the way she’s been looking at us lately, like she doesn’t quite know how to act around us anymore. Like something has shifted between her and the three of us.

Thanks to Trick and Hugo, it has. I hate this so much.

Since she came back to town, things have been fine. Marie returned with the kind of elegant grace that makes me forget what I’m saying. The sort of woman who should be on the arm of a big city doctor, a pampered princess eating bonbons andhaving affairs with the gardener. Instead, she got a job across the street and moved back home with Preacher.

It should be great—she’s where I can watch out for her at the library, where nothing bad can happen to her worse than a paper cut. But something baddidhappen to her, and everything has been out of whack ever since, thanks to that asshole Crow and my asshole best friends, both of whom have apparently decided it’s open season on the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.

Before all of this, I knew where the lines were drawn. I like lines. Lines keep people safe, they keep them…well, inline. I don’t tend to cross lines unless absolutely needed.

And I need her absolutely.

“Do you want me to do it?” I ask, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

Marie blinks, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. “I—I mean, if you want to. If you’re not busy. I’d like that.”

Something about the way she says it—so shy, so soft—makes my chest tighten. “Alright,” I say, my voice steady even though my heart is pounding. “Let’s do it.”

It’s not quite the same thing as a show, but tattooing her is almost as good, and I can live with that. It’s safer for everyone involved. Preacher won’t like that she’s getting inked, but he’d take that over anything else I want to do to his little girl.

I move to start setting up my station, but before I can, Trick opens his mouth. “Wow, Marie. You sure about lettingSamhere do your first tattoo? I mean, I’m not saying he’s bad, but?—”

“Trick,” I say sharply, shooting him a glare that stops him mid-sentence.

He smirks, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll shut up.”

I turn back to my station, forcing myself to focus as I lay out the equipment. But my hands feel clumsy, my thoughts too tangled to concentrate. She wants me to do it. I can’t decide if that makes this better or worse.

Just as I’m finishing the setup, the bell over the door jingles again, and I glance up to see Danny Brooker and his friends walking in.

Great. Just what this situation needed.

Danny’s always had this way of walking into a room like he owns the place, and tonight is no exception. He’s Marie’s age, but everyone knows him, the pompous prick. His daddy owns several car lots around the parish, and a few outside of it. He’s grinning the kind of grin money can buy, and I’d like to help him lose a few teeth to give it some character. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket as he saunters toward the counter.

“Hey, Sam,” he says, his tone just a little too casual, like I’mthe help. “Got time to squeeze us in?”

I glance at his friends—four guys, all about his age, all wearing the same cocky expression. “We’re fully booked for the night,” I say flatly. “But we can schedule something for tomorrow.”

Danny’s grin falters, just slightly. “Come on, man. It’s five of us. That’s good money, right?”

I cross my arms over my chest, standing firm. “Like I said, we’re booked. If you want to schedule something, I’d be happy to?—”

“Marie?” Danny’s eyes light up when he spots her sitting in the corner, and my jaw tightens as he heads straight for her. “Marie Durand,” he says, his grin widening. “Long time no see.”

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