Page 2 of Four Tattoos

He’s not giving me any directions for the rest of the coffee orders, so I assume I’m meant to wander around and find the other recipients.

“Okay … well … hope you enjoy it,” I say, slowly backing up even though I feel like he’s got me trapped in a tractor beam. “Thank you for your order.”

The man says nothing, and he doesn’t return my smile. He’s exactly the intimidating type of man I imagined when I pulled into the lot, and he’s not at all friendly, so why am I reluctant to leave him?

2

HUTCH

The melodic sound of a woman’s voice catches my ear.

“Excuse me a minute,” I tell the man in my chair whose leg I’m tattooing. Turning, I find a beautiful blonde, so delicate and pretty that I have to blink. We get a lot of women in here, but none as lovely as her.

“I’m here with coffee from Island Java,” she says, her voice light and sweet like spun sugar. She looks out of place here, as if a fawn has just wandered in from the forest.

“We’ve got the two black coffees.” I tilt my head toward my client, never taking my eyes off of the young woman, who’s nervously smiling back at me.

She removes a cup and hands me the cardboard tray with the two remaining coffees. “Are the pastries yours too?”

I shake my head and then lean out toward the hall. “Zipper? Mace?”

The woman’s eyes go wide, but she keeps smiling like it’s her job. After I hand one of the cups to my client, I take a sip from the other, the nutty bitterness exactly what I’ve been craving. “That hits the spot.”

“I’m glad you like it,” the woman says, her shoulders relaxing. She turns to look in the direction of Mace and Zipper’s stalls, and it occurs to me that I’m not ready for her to leave.

“I didn’t realize you offered delivery directly,” I say. “We’ve been using a service or doing pickup, but your shop owner mentioned it the last time I was in.”

“That’s my brother, Patrick,” the woman says, her thick dark lashes fluttering as she casts her eyes downward.

Her golden hair falls to her shoulders in waves, and her plump lips are a natural shade of pink that makes me wonder what shade other parts of her body might be.

“And you do the deliveries?”

“Among other things. We don’t actually make a lot of deliveries anymore, because of those other services you mentioned, but it’s something we still offer to businesses who place bigger orders.”

If she’s the one making the deliveries, I’m going to start ordering every day.

I realize that I’ve seen her before, but only from the back. Once, when I was at the coffee shop, I noticed a woman with blonde hair working at the back counter, but I didn’t get the chance to see her beautiful face. If I had, I’d have been returning to the shop regularly.

“What’s your name?” I ask her.

“Rose.”

It’s the perfect name for her. I’ll bet she smells great, too.

“And you are …?” She’s looking at me expectantly, her big brown eyes full of light.

“Hutch.” I offer a hand to shake hers as soon as I realize it’s an opportunity to touch her. Her skin is as soft as I imagined, and I’ll bet other parts of her are even softer. Her small hand is engulfed in mine, and I don’t want to let go.

Rose’s slender neck twists, and I follow her gaze to where Zipper and Mace are ambling toward us. I see the moment when they register her good looks. Our typical types don’t always overlap, but they clearly share the same interest in her.

“The coffee is Mace’s,” I say, gesturing.

Rose hands it over to him with a smile. “And the cookies?” she asks him.

“Both for Zipper,” I say.

“You have a sweet tooth,” Rose says as she gives him the bag. “Or are one of these for your client?”

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