Page 104 of Resisting You
"I mean, I’m not complaining." His hand reached up, covering mine, and holding my palm just over the beating thrum of his heart. “I’m West.”
“I… I know. I’m Callie, Noah’s?—”
“Twin sister. Yeah, we covered that.” His hand was surprisingly soft over my knuckles, not calloused and rough like I expected. “I met you briefly at the rehearsal dinner. You were debating whether bread counts as a hobby."
"In my defense, sourdough is a lifestyle."
He smiled—the kind of smile that made you forget every other face in the room.
"Can I make it up to you?" I asked. "Next round’s on me.”
“Isn’t it an open bar?”
I gulped. “Then in that case, the next six rounds are on me.” Another pause as his eyes searched mine. “Unless you’re worried I’ll spill all of those on you, too."
"I’ll take the risk," he said. "You seem like you’re worth a little mess."
I glanced at his arm, where a sleeve of ink disappeared under the cuff, rolled to his elbow. Pulling my hand away from his chest, I tried pushing the cuff higher to see the tattoo more. It was stunning with surprisingly thin lines. A compass wrapped in roses and something that looked like coordinates that I couldn’t read as they twisted and wound their way up his forearm.
"This is beautiful," I said, tracing the design with my finger. "How many tattoos do you have?”
He smiled like he'd heard that question a hundred times and still didn’t mind answering. “Too many to count. What about you? Any tattoos?”
I shook my head no as I stared in wonder at his beautiful ink. “Is there a theme to all your tattoos?”
"Depends on the month. I’m a tattoo artist. Comes with the territory."
That made something spark in my brain—the champagne, the restlessness, the need to do something reckless and real and maybe a little painful to take the focus off the pain twinging in my heart.
"Have you ever given someone a tattoo at a wedding?"
That got his attention.
His brows lifted. "You asking for one?"
I tilted my chin. "I’ve never had one. Might as well start with a questionable life decision while wearing heels and champagne lip gloss."
"You don’t seem like a girl who makes questionable decisions."
"You clearly haven’t been watching me tonight,” I said with a snort.
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t like to tattoo anyone who’s been drinking.”
I pressed my lips together as I glanced around the reception that was slowly winding down. Noah and Rosa were saying their goodbyes to Rosa’s parents. “What if we go somewhere and give me an hour to sober up a little. I’m not drunk. Just a little tipsy. And… I could think of a few ways we could spend that time.”
He glanced toward the thinning crowd. "You’re serious?"
I was. Or maybe I wasn’t. But I nodded anyway.
He set his whiskey neat down, untouched and gave me a nod. “I don’t usually do this, but what the hell?”
“That’s the spirit.”
His eyes met mine once more, appreciatively. “Then let’s go.”
Across the room, Noah gave me a little smile and wave. “Let me just say goodnight to my brother.”
For a moment, West looked concerned. “Why don’t I, uh… wait for you out front by my truck.”
