Page 7 of Ink Me Three Times
That gets a flicker of something at the corner of his mouth. Almost a smile. Almost.
"You want to tell me about your artwork?"
He meansthetattoo.
I go still. Then shake my head. "No."
He doesn’t push. Just keeps working. The silence stretches between us, thick with everything we’re not saying.
The buzz, the music, the scratch of needle on skin… all of it folds into a rhythm that feels… intimate. Dangerous. Like we’re suspended outside of time, in a moment that doesn’t belong to the real world.
"So… what brought you to Coyote Glen?"
The question is simple. Casual. But the way he asks it, quiet, like he’s fishing without being obvious, makes my heart stutter in my chest.
I swallow hard.
"Visiting family."
I don’t know why I say that. It’s just… easier than the truth. I don’t want to get into the whole mess of my life right now.
He hums, like he’s not quite buying it, but he doesn’t press. Instead, his fingers move in steady, practiced strokes over my skin, doing something to the edge of my nerves.
"So, you traveling alone?"
Another simple question, but the undertone is there. He’s looking for something. Testing boundaries.
"Yeah," I reply, my heart hammering a little faster.
"Is that… good?" he asks, voice softer now, like he’s almost teasing. "You like being alone?"
I freeze for a moment, then force a casual tone. "I’m getting used to it."
I expect him to let it go.
But he doesn’t.
He’s quiet for a few seconds, like he’s considering something. When he finally speaks again, his voice is low and rough, his eyes flicking over to mine.
"I’m guessing you’re not in town for more than just a tattoo then… I mean, you didn’t walk in here just looking for a…distraction, did you?"
The way he says it makes the words feel like a confession. The tension between us crackles, the air too thick, too still.
My pulse kicks up again, but this time, I don’t know what’s making it race. The question or the way he’s watching me, like I’m not just some woman in his chair but something else.
I lick my lips. "Guess you could say I’m looking for a little bit of both."
His eyes narrow slightly, and for a second, I think he might push me further. But instead, his hand stills for just a heart beat. Then he takes a breath, like he’s swallowing something he didn’t want to say. "You just here to get away from everything?"
I glance away. "Maybe."
It feels like he’s testing me. Looking for a crack.
"So no boyfriend waiting for you back home, then?" he asks, almost casually, but there’s a weight in it that makes my heart skip.
I blink. "No boyfriend."
His gaze sharpens. "A husband?"
