Tyler (Inked Brotherhood 2)

“And the occasion is?” He lifts a brow, and heat rushes up my face when I think of the favors I need to ask.

“Do we need one?”

He shrugs and lets go of me. “Got enough for three?”

“Sure.” I turn to nod at Rafe. “Do you like seafood pasta?”

“Yeah, sounds awesome,” he says and slips into a chair at the table, folding in his long frame. “Zen-man here says your cooking rocks, and I’ve been dying for a taste.”

I turn back to my pan, a pleased smile on my face. “See?” I tell Zane who tries to filch a shrimp from the pan. I slap his hand away. “A man with manners. You should learn from him.”

“My pride is wounded,” Zane clutches dramatically at his heart and backs away.

Rafe chuckles.

I guess this isn’t a good time to bring up the two topics I wanted to talk to Zane about. I finish up preparing the pasta, mix it up and place the pot on the worn table. Zane places our chipped white dishes and silverware, and I grab the pot of grated parmesan from the fridge.

“Dig in,” I say and slide into the seat next to Rafe.

He serves himself, then passes the food to Zane, who heaps his own dish high with pasta before passing the noodle fork to me.

As always, Zane starts inhaling his food before I even finish serving myself. He groans with pleasure, his eyes closing.

“Keep your orgasms more quiet, man,” Rafe mutters, and I choke on my first forkful of pasta.

Zane shakes his head and sighs. “This is quiet, fucker. You haven’t heard me when I’m having a real good one.”

I put down my fork before I choke to death and get up to grab a glass of water. “Guys…”

“This is good stuff,” Rafe says as I return to the table. He gestures at his plate. “Zane was right.”

“Thanks.” He really is a nice boy. I beam at him. “There’s enough for second servings.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

He really is a handsome one, too, with his cat-like face, golden mane and tawny eyes—but my tastes run to dark. Can’t get over a pair of inky eyes and a shaggy mop of hair, a square jaw and a broad smile. A smile I haven’t seen in years.

God, Tyler…

“Hey, Zane.” I nod at the pot. “There’s more for you, too.”

“Okay, spill.” A side of his mouth lifts in a lazy smile. “What do you want from me? Cooking my favorite food, telling me to have more…What’s the catch?”

Crap. Caught. I suck a deep breath. “Do you know this chick, Dakota?”

His face falls. “Audrey’s friend.”

Right. “Well, she wants you to ink her.”

“No way. I told her already.”

“Why not? What’s the big deal?”

Zane shakes his head stubbornly, his Mohawk swaying slightly. “Tell her I said ‘hell no’ and that’s final.”

“So you won’t tell me why not?”

“Ask her what sort of tattoo she wants, and you’ll understand why.”