Page 10 of Jimmy

“But?” Now would be the time she’d tell him he was too dirty looking, too rough for her.

“No buts. I’m enjoying myself. Nikki made things difficult, but that’s life.”

He sat her on the saddle of his bike. “What’s wrong?”

She tucked tight into his coat and tensed. “I need to tell you something.”

“You’re married? Skeeved out by my ink?” He toyed with the grip on the handlebar. “Changed your mind?”

Her eyes widened. “Whoa. No.” She frowned. “I’m not married. No one seems to want me enough to marry me, and I’m not skeeved out. I like your ink. It’s beautiful, and I’m enjoying myself with you.”

That helped. “Then what’s wrong?”

“I should explain what Nikki meant by the fire.” She tensed again. “Long story short, our friend Sarah decided we should all have boyfriends, so we all participated in a spell. I have no idea if the spell is real, but I participated. I wrote a name on my scroll and tossed the scroll into the fire.”

“To get rid of them?” He didn’t understand but was fascinated.

“To be my beloved.” She blushed. “My friends would tell you I’m shy. I don’t talk much, and I’m a little fearful.”

“Of me?”

“No.” She shivered.

He embraced her. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

“I wrote your name on the scroll.” She met his gaze. “I wrote your name on it because I wanted to be with you.”

“You did? Why didn’t you just ask me?” That explained the unwavering drive he had to meet her, but not the attraction. The connection was organic.

“Yes, but I’m shy, and I thought you’d turn me down.” She wrestled with the sleeves and covered her face with the cuffs. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait.” He held onto her hands through the fabric of the coat. “So you wrote my name on the scroll and tossed it into the fire so I’d be your beloved?”

“Yes. I like you.”

“So you asked for me?” He liked the sound of that.

“Yes.”

He met her gaze. “Karey?”

“You fascinate me and you’re sexy… and so not like anyone I’d date, but you’d never see me. I’m sorry I wrangled you in this way because I shouldn’t have used a spell to get you to notice me, but I did.”

He cupped her jaw in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “I already saw you.” He caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“You did?”

“You stop in front of my shop every day. I look forward to seeing you,” he confessed. “I never said anything or approached you because people tend to be afraid of me.”

“Why?”

“My ink?” Among other reasons.

“Oh.” She freed her hand from the sleeve and held onto his wrist. “I didn’t want to tell you I’d used a spell -- even if it was a lark -- because I thought you’d decide I’m lame.”

“No.” Sometimes a push was what he needed to make a move. “I’m honored.”

She stared at him.

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