Smart, Sexy and Secretive (The Reed Brothers 2)

Despite what happened earlier, I’m so f**king happy to see her. She walks across the room slowly and then kisses me softly. I want to linger over her lips all day and all night. Never too busy for you. I’m glad the woman on the table has her shirt back on.

“What about me?” my so-called customer asks.

“I think you should put the tattoo on your side. Or below your breast, rather than at the top,” I suggest.

She shimmies her unbound boobs at me under her shirt. “Are they too big for a tattoo?”

I’ve seen it a million times. After a few years and a couple of kids, her boobs will be looking down at her belly button. That’s not a bad thing—all women are beautiful—it’s just bad for tattoos.

“I think it would maintain better if we put it below your breast. It’s for your boyfriend, right?” I look down at the tattoo. It’s a man’s name. She nods. Poor schmuck might have no idea she’s a whore who would do me as fast as I could blink. I’m going to run it really lightly because I have a feeling she’s going to be covering it up before long.

She nods, and I get out my equipment. “Can you wait for me to finish?” I ask Emily.

Emily and I have to talk. I have to find out what happened today after I left. I couldn’t sit there. I just couldn’t. Not while her father held Matt’s treatment over her head again. Had she consulted me I probably wouldn’t have let her do it the first time, and I’ll be f**ked sideways before I let her do it again. She’s not cattle that can be traded. She’s a f**king person, and I love her to death.

“I can wait,” she says. She goes out to sit with Friday, the girl who runs the front of the shop, while I work on the tattoo, and a half hour later, she’s laughing at something Friday is saying as I walk out with the newly tattooed girl. Emily looks up at me, blinking her pretty brown eyes. I have missed her so much, and I’m so glad she’s back. But I’m a little apprehensive.

The girl goes to pay Friday and slips her number in my pocket as she strolls by me. I toss it into the wastebasket after she’s gone. Emily’s eyebrows go up. “Should I be worried?” she asks, but she’s grinning.

I don’t feel like grinning. “Should I be?” I toss back. I motion for her to follow me to the back of the shop. She lets me help her to her feet and follows me.

“Are you done for the day?” she asks as I clean up my supplies.

I nod. “What happened after I left?”

She sobers. Her gaze skitters around. Fuck. That’s not good. “Not much,” she hedges, wincing.

I tip her chin up with my finger and force her to look at me. “I won’t let you trade yourself for Matt’s treatment again.”

She waves a breezy hand in the air. “Don’t worry about that. My mother told him she would pay for it herself if it came down to it. She loves you already.” She grins at me. “Something about those tall, tatted white boys. Older women love them.”

A laugh bursts out of my throat. Emily grins, but then she winces again.

“Tell me,” I coax. “It can’t be worse than what I’ve been imagining all day.”

“Trip’s going to stay at my place while he looks for an apartment of his own.” She waits for me to react. I draw in a deep breath, trying not to. “Are you angry?”

I set her back from me. “Are you f**king kidding me?” I ask. I’m so angry that I can barely see straight. She takes a step back from me, and I realize she’s never really seen me angry. She saw me irritated at the diner when she asked me about f**king someone else. She’s seen me cry. She’s seen me hurt, like when we thought Matt was going to die. But she’s never really seen me angry. I work to soften my stance. “I’m angry at them. And if I ever have to see Trip again I’ll probably flatten him.”

“Can I watch?” she asks. But she’s grinning. “See, here’s the thing,” she says hesitantly. “While Trip’s looking for a place to stay, I was hoping maybe you would let me stay at your apartment.” She holds her breath, waiting for my response.

“Are you f**king kidding me?” I ask again. But this time I wrap my arms around her while I do it and spin her around. She giggles against me, and I can feel the movement of it in her belly. She doesn’t try to push me away the way she did with Trip earlier when he tried this move on her. Of course, he wasn’t the happiest man in the whole f**king world when he did it. I guess that matters.

“Of course you can stay with me.” I tweak her nose. “Silly woman.”

I want her with me every minute of every day.

“Your brothers won’t mind?” she asks.

“They’ll be ecstatic,” I say. I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “They’ve missed you.”

“Does your apartment smell like sweat socks and stale pizza?” she asks.

I grimace. It probably does. I hold my finger and thumb an inch apart. “Maybe a little bit.”

She cuddles into me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She says something against my chest, but I can’t see her lips. I tip her face up. “What?” I ask.

“I love you,” she says. Then she says it again and again and again, and my heart swells. I kiss her like there’s no tomorrow, until we’re both breathless. The lights turn off.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” I say. I shove the curtain back, and Friday glares at us, her purse over her shoulder.