Page 69 of Igniting Sparks
“Actually, I’ll take a glass of port, please.” Nothing like mixing liquors to ensure the only thing seeing action later is the toilet bowl.
“Same.” Mina gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “We won’t stay long.”
“It’s fine.” Actually, it’s not, but my dick will just have to sit down and shut up for a while longer.
After all, this weekend is about Mina. She has to mingle with Bitsy, even if I’d rather endure surgery without anesthetic.
And her aunt is the queen of fake smiles as Mina and I settle into a couple of upholstered chairs opposite her.
Oh boy, this is going to be fun.
Bitsy wastes no time, either. She sips her liqueur and fixes me with a mocking gaze. “Leo was telling me stories about his university days with Mina. It’s such an important time in a young person’s life, especially when you surround yourself with like-minded individuals.”
“That it is.” What else does she want me to say? I know her ploy, trying to knock me down peg by peg, but she’s about to realize I’m not some dumb schmuck from the country.
“Did you attend school, Braden?” She laughs and shakes her head. “I guess it’s hardly a necessity for a tattoo artist.”
Strike one.
“Actually, I did. I went to art school.”
Mina leans over, placing a protective hand on my arm. “He’s a brilliant artist, Aunt Bitsy.”
She sniffs, peering down her nose at me. “Tattoo artists aren’trealartists, Mina. In fact, many of them are felons or former gang members.”
And there’s strike two.
My brows raise and I tap my foot against the floor, desperate to rein in my anger.
This is for Mina. Bitsy is an asshole. You’re better than this. Don’t stoop to their level.
I swallow half my glass before answering. “Although that might be the rumor around the country club, it’s a ridiculous fallacy. Every artist working at Black Lotus has a degree in art, from an accredited school, I might add. And tattooing is far more difficult than many other artistic mediums. I would know, since I’ve sampled them all.”
“And yet, you chose to work in a tattoo shop. Tell me, was it because you couldn’t cut it in the real art world, or do you prefer being among members of your own kind?”
Strike three, coming in hot.
“Aunt Bitsy—” Mina gasps, but I hold up a hand to silence her.
If Bitsy wants to fight, we’ll fight.
“My own kind?” I release a laugh, low and dark, rumbling through my chest. “I suppose I prefer their company. They’re honest, loyal, and kind—all personality traits I find sorely lacking amongst the well-heeled crowd.”
Bitsy arches a single brow and smooths an invisible wrinkle from her blouse, like she’s brushing off my entire existence. “Are you intimating something?”
I lean back, finishing my wine as Bitsy and I lock glares. “No more so than you are.”
Bitsy chuckles, her façade momentarily cracking. “I simplywant what’s best for Mina. Leo knows that, too. He understands her needs better than someone… like you.”
I didn’t think there could be four strikes, but this bitch managed it.
“Uh,” Leo interjects, shifting in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. “Why don’t we take advantage of this beautiful dance floor? Mina, would you do me the honor?”
“I don’t think so.” My words emerge as a growl, my eyes narrowing at Leo. “She’s with me and you’d do well to back off.”
Mina’s family and ex believe me to be some feral beast, so I’m about to show them one.
I stand up and offer Mina my hand. “Dance with me.”
