Page 24 of Betting Blind
When I turn back, Jack’s arms are spread apart with his palms resting on the top of the bar. There’s a playful spark in his gaze, and my heart skips a single, solitary beat. A stray drift of air pushes threads of soft curls over my shoulder, and his eyes flick to the spot as he contemplates something.
With a quick tap of his knuckle on the wood, he says, “Do you wanna get out of here?”
I look left and right before pointing to the center of my chest. “Me?”
“Yeah, you.”
“Who will close the place down? It’s our turn to mop.” I slide my eyes to Micah and Derrick, who are standing at the opposite end of the long bar, attempting to juggle wadded-up napkin balls.
Jack turns toward them. “Hey, you two are closing tonight.”
Derrick fumbles the ball in his right hand, and the rest of them tumble to the ground. He throws his arms up above his head. “What the hell, man!”
Micah and I fail to hide our laughter.
“I’m the boss,” Jack says, giving them a wink, and Derrick gathers his discarded napkin balls and chucks them at his best friend.
“Come on,” he says to me.
“Wait! Where are we going?” I gesture to my plain tank and shorts. I’m not exactly dressed for a night out on the town.
He hops over the top of the bar like it’s nothing. When he lands in front of me, straightening to his full height, my brain short circuits as though I’m watching him in slow-mo. His muscles flex beneath his ink, and my mouth begins to water.Jesus.I need a fan, an ice bath—something, anything!
“You look perfect.” His body is so close to mine that when he breathes, his chest brushes up against mine. He has a reckless look in his eye and a sinful smile on his full lips. “It’s a surprise.”
“Well, now I’m definitely nervous.”
“You said you wanted to make your own stories, so I’m going to take you somewhere you can make that happen.” He reaches out his hand expectantly, and I stare at his open palm, searching for any logical reason why I shouldn’t hightail it out of here with him.
Screw it.Throwing caution to the wind, I place my hand in his and follow his lead as he takes us out through the back door to his truck. He opens the door, helping me into the cab, and a strange tingling breaks out all over my body as I fail to control my excitement.
The vehicle rumbles to life when he turns the ignition over and in no time, we’re taking off onto the highway. His truck eats up the pavement, moving us along quickly, and I wonder where we could go at eleven thirty at night that has him so animated.
“You’ll see,” he says with a secret smile. I hadn’t realized I’d spoken aloud, but I sit back and attempt to relax.
He veers off the highway, taking several back streets until we finally pull to a stop in front of a small gray building. It’s all alone, boasting an empty parking lot—save for one lone car—and there’s a bright neon sign at the top of the building reading TATTOO.
The bold red letters blink on and off, on and off.
I whip my head around to Jack. “Oh, you can’t be serious?”
Humor dances in those bright blues and he nods, affirming that he is, in fact,veryserious. “Don’t tell me you’re scared?” he goads.
I stare back at the bright sign and worry my bottom lip between my teeth. “I’m not scared,” I say more to myself than to him.
This is what I wanted, right? I wanted adventure—no, Ibeggedfor adventure. Something I’m slightly regretting as I forcefully choke down my fear. “Tattoos are permanent, ” I hear myself whisper, as if the ink-covered man beside me wasn’t well aware of this. If I walk into that parlor right now and get a tattoo, there will be nothing I can do to reverse it later. Tattoo removal hurts like hell, and if I don’t have the extra cash for a car axle, I damn sure don’t have the cash for that.
Jack’s smile falters as he leans across the console. “Cass, if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. There’s no pressure. I’ll drive you back to the bar and you can go home, I promise.”
Yeah, Cassidy.Go home.
I glance at the patterns that cover him, somehow appreciating them more than I did before. They represent his long-lost family and who he is as a person. They tell a story about where he’s come from, and if I had to guess, I’d say he doesn’t regret a single one.
No, I can’t go home. Somehow, some way, I was meant to be here with Jack tonight. Be it fate or faith, I’ll probably never know, but I’m not about to question it. I pull my shoulders back and nod. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
His eyes light up, softening his hard edges and softening me in return. Something sensual fills their depths before he turns to hop down onto the gravel. His boots crunch with each step he takes, and when he opens the passenger door to help me out, the heat from his hands burns through my thin clothing.
The little bell above the door jingles lightly when we enter, and I wring my hands. The space is small but comfortable, and the gentle sound of ’70s music drifts from a room in the back that is hiding behind a concrete barrier. A single red door is in the center of the wall, and I’m sure whoever is behind it is cursing us for coming in this late.
