Page 3 of Marked By Blaze

I try to picture the giant man from the bar—Blaze—in this room, seated behind the leather chair and mussing up that dark hair as he looks through the papers, but for some reason, I can’t picture it. I shake off the thought and turn around to see the man himself standing quietly by the door holding my barely closed case.

“You can, uh, place that on the table,” I tell him, avoiding his eyes. He does as requested but doesn’t leave the room. Instead, he pushes the door shut and leans against it to watch us.

“He’s hot, isn’t he?” Jade asks, and my panicked gaze shoots to hers, but instead of rage or jealousy, I spot a knowing smile.

I flush, “I…uh…”

“Don’t worry, all the guys in this place are gorgeous, in a rough kind of way,” she says with a wink, chuckling when she notices the flush on my cheeks. “You know what I mean, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” I say turning to my kit to prepare my tools, conscious of Blaze in the same room with us. His presence makes it hard for me to focus, and I nearly drop my hairbrush in an attempt to get it out, fingers trembling like they never have before.

Focus! I have to. On anything but the giant standing by the door!

“If you need anything, Blaze can get it for you,” Jade says, turning to the man with a wicked grin on her face. “Won’t you, Blaze?”

The man grunts, which makes Jade laugh for some reason. I quietly force in deep breaths, tuning out the man’s distracting presence to focus on my work, but when I turn around, my eyes find his. He’s looking at me too, watching me with such heated intensity, it’s a wonder I haven’t already gone up in a ball of flames.

Don’t look. This man is forbidden, Ingrid. He’s Jade’s. Don’t look.

I break the eye contact, set on ignoring him for the rest of the appointment. It’s only one afternoon anyway. I can definitely last that long without constantly looking at the man.

Chapter Two

Blaze

Look at me!

I silently beg for the girl to lift those beautiful eyes and look at me, to notice my presence among the chaos of makeup brushes and the soft chatter she’s exchanging with Jade. Every flick of her brush sends a jolt of envy through me, and I crave her undivided attention.

Usually, I revel in being invisible and it affords me a chance to study people or situations uninterrupted, but this is different. An hour ago, I had no idea this girl existed, and now, I want nothing more than for her to look at me. To see only me.

Ingrid. Fuck, her name is as unique as the rest of her.

One eye is a gorgeous shade of blue like the clearest summer sky, and the other is a warm chocolate brown. But she’s robbing me of the view of those pretty eyes by not looking at me. I shift my weight, trying to catch her eye, but she angles her head to the side, letting her hair curtain the left side of her face and hide her from my view. I can’t tell if the move is subconscious or one meant on hiding the crescent moon birthmark on her cheek.

A strong part of me wants to walk over to her and touch her, to tuck her hair behind her ear and reveal her gorgeous face. The need is so strong that I have to dig my heels into the floor to stop myself from moving, but Christ, she is a freakingmasterpiece from her deep auburn hair to those mismatched eyes to her birthmark and all the way down that beautiful body she’s hiding under a simple pair of jeans and a blue sweater.

I need to touch her.

Everything in me wants to close the distance between us and bury my nose in her hair to inhale more of the scent I caught hints of earlier. She wears a delicate fragrance with notes of fresh flowers. Despite the harsher smells permeating the bar, her light floral scent caught my attention the moment I stepped close to her. Her scent was like a breath of fresh air—a refreshing contrast to the intense aromas of the club.

But that was before I saw her face. A fucking dream is what she is.

Look at me, Goddamnit!

But she doesn’t. It almost feels like she’s hiding from me. Punishing me for some reason. I could have sworn I read attraction earlier in the bar, but she’s barely looked my way since we walked in here.

Look at me, please.

“The photographer should be here soon. I hope my fiancé will be back in time,” Jade comments, and Ingrid, who’s grabbing something from her kit, immediately stops.

“Y-your fiancé?” she asks, a note of surprise clear in her voice. “He…he’s not here?”

“No, Saint is running a little late. Oh! Did I tell you how he proposed?” Jade huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “We were headed home when he suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, and I thought that something was wrong with his bike…”

Ingrid pauses what she’s doing and slowly turns to look at me, and just like that, she steals the very air from my lungs, like she’s swallowing all of me with those beautiful eyes. For a solid minute, I forget that we’re not alone in the room.

I forget that it’s not just me and this beautiful angel.

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