Page 2 of Jimmy

“One down!” Sarah whipped her arm in the air. “Who’s next?”

Karey massaged her forehead. She’d done it. She’d summoned a man -- maybe. Seven days to a man in her life. The thought both excited and scared her. What if she lusted after him, but he wasn’t interested in her? Then she’d wasted her time.

She sank onto the steps and stared at the fire. The yellow-orange flames licked the air, and sparks shot up when one of the logs moved. The sparks almost reminded her of magic. She closed her eyes.

Could love and romance truly be controlled by magic?

She had no idea.

* * *

Friday morning, Karey walked from her apartment on Second Avenue to her job at the Last Exit Bookstore downtown. She wasn’t a good enough barista to work in the coffee-shop portion of the store and prided herself on her ability to weed through the books to find just the right one for the interested shopper.

On the way to the store, she passed by Tattoo You. The ornate art on the windows, showing the various tattoos one could have done at the store, fascinated her. She’d never been good at art but loved to appreciate the work. The man who ran the store, Jimmy, fascinated her the most.

She’d always been drawn to tall, dark, and handsome men. She loved the way he styled his hair in a pompadour, like he’d stepped out of the 1950s, and how his usual black shirt seemed tailor-made for him. She longed to explore the sleeves of tattoos covering his arms and see where else he had ink. Every so often, he’d catch her watching him and would smile. The warmth in his pale blue eyes sent shivers to her core. She even liked the heavy chain he had on his belt. For his wallet? She wasn’t sure, but it added to his allure and gave him an air of danger.

She held onto her bag as he arranged his tattooing equipment. She sighed. How could one man look so dangerous and sexy, but approachable?

Jimmy glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

She froze. He’d seen her again. Shit. He had to think she was a creeper. God knew she was too chicken to go in and have him tattoo or pierce her. Needles made her faint.

A leggy blonde woman wearing a crop top perched on the tattoo chair and lifted her shirt out of the way, exposing her ribs. The smile on Jimmy’s face told Karey everything she needed to know -- he had a thing for blondes. Maybe just skinny girls. Maybe anyone but her.

Damn her low self-esteem.

While the woman arranged herself on the chair, Jimmy stood and ventured over to the window. Karey wanted to say something, but her knees wobbled, and she gave in to the urge to flee. He might talk to her, but he’d never be interested in something more than a chat.

She ducked her head and hurried down the street to the bookstore. She swore she felt a connection to Jimmy, but she’d seen him around town with various beautiful blonde women. She wasn’t tall, blonde, or beautiful.

She was just Karey.

She darted through the staff entrance of the store and wished she hadn’t written Jimmy’s name and description on her damn scroll. She had no chance in hell with a sexy man like him. None.

What in the hell had she been thinking?

* * *

Jimmy McCreadie pulled a pair of latex gloves from the box and chuckled. He’d seen the pretty brunette watching him from the sidewalk nearly every day. If he could trust the rumors, her name was Karey.

She intrigued him because she wasn’t anything like his usual type. He tended to gravitate to leggy blondes, but something about the petite, curvy brunette called to him. She seemed so shy, and he wanted to meet her.

Kurt, his best friend and co-owner of Tattoo You, joined him in the front room. “I’m ready.”

“I thought Jimmy was inking me,” Brandy said. She stuck her bottom lip out and frowned. “Are you as good as Jimmy?”

Kurt snorted. “I’m better.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes, then offered Kurt the gloves. He and Kurt had a good-natured rivalry concerning tattooing. Kurt was more imaginative, but Jimmy swore he had more artistic talent. As for the tattoo Brandy wanted, Kurt would be the best choice. “You want a phrase on your ribs. He’s better at delicate tattoos like that one. I’m just here to assist.”

“See?” Kurt sat on the stool. “Let’s rough this in.”

Brandy sighed and hiked up her shirt, showing her lack of undergarments. “Next time, then?”

“Next time,” Jimmy replied. He spotted a customer at the counter. “I’ll be right back.”

Forty-five minutes later, he’d blocked in time for the tiger tattoo and Kurt had finished the tattoo for Brandy. She smiled and tipped both men, including her phone number with the bills, then left.

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