Clenching my fingers around the handle of my carry-on, I walked up the few steps to the front door and stepped inside.
Rock music played quietly through discreetly placed speakers. The lighting was soft, almost intimate. An elegant sitting area was off to one side, and a woman with the most beautiful mocha skin I’d ever seen was sitting behind the reception desk.
“Welcome to Branch House,” she greeted in an oddly soothing voice. I almost shivered as I looked at her, imagining her using that voice to lure sailors to their death like the beautiful siren she was. “May I help you?”
Pushing down a fresh wave of nervousness, I smiled at her. “I’m here to see Lyric.”
Her golden eyes glanced down at my carry-on with a knowing grin. “He’s a popular one with the ladies today, that’s for sure. First, the sweet little blonde, now you.” Shaking her head, she nodded toward the back. “Go on back, sweetie. He doesn’t have a client for another half an hour. Third door on the left.”
Ignoring the comment about the “sweet little blonde,” I walked around the desk, leaving my case where it was. All that was in it was clothes and a little makeup, so it wasn’t like I was worried it would get stolen.
As I walked back to where the artists worked, I passed a few open doors. In one, a woman with bright pink hair was inking some guy’s back. His shirt was off, and his arms were sleeved up in mostly black with a few splashes of red and yellow here and there. His head was turned away from the door, and I thought I heard him snoring over the buzz of the tattoo gun and soft music.
Lyric’s laugh coming from several doors down stopped me in my tracks. The sound warmed something in me that I hadn’t realized was cold, and I pressed my hand to the center of my chest, my fingers brushing over his key.
Needing to see him, touch him—taste him—again, I forced my feet to move me forward. But before I could reach the third door on the left, I heard a gentle voice coming from the same room where I’d just heard Lyric laughing.
“Ric, are you sure I won’t bother you while you’re working?”
“You would never bother me, Vi.” His deep voice reached me. “I only have one client tonight anyway. Once I’m finished here, we can grab some dinner and head back to my place.”
Jealousy hit me like a freight train. Ric? I instantly hated the shortening of his name. Clenching my jaw, I took the last few steps that would allow me to glance into his room. From where I was standing, I could see them, but they weren’t looking toward the door and didn’t see me.
A blonde sat on a table like the one on which the sleeping guy was getting inked down the hall. Lyric sat on his rolling chair, between the blonde’s legs, his forearms on her thighs, his head slightly tilted back to look up at her. The place where my heart was supposed to be clenched at the sight of him, only to squeeze so hard it was difficult to breathe. “I only have you for a few days, Vi. Of course I want you here with me while I’m working. I want to spend as much time with you as possible.”
“I was worried about you,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his forehead. “You’ve been too quiet lately.”
“I’m glad you came. I’ve missed you so damn much, sweetheart.”
Swallowing hard, I stepped back when I sensed the blonde’s head was about to lift. My eyes burned, but there was no way in hell I was going to cry. Fuck that. I refused to cry over a guy I never should have let my heart get attached to in the first damn place.
Turning, I walked back to the front and grabbed my carry-on. “Thanks,” I muttered to the receptionist, unable to meet her gaze. “But do me a solid and don’t tell him I was here.”
“No sweat, sweetie.” She gave me a wave, and I walked out the door into the humid summer air.
The loudness of the city, the bright lights, the smells of exhaust and garbage felt like they were overloading my senses, turning my stomach. Clenching my teeth against the overstimulation, I breathed through the wave of nausea and flagged down a passing taxi. Giving him the name of the airport I’d flown into earlier, I dropped back against the seat and closed my eyes.
Why did I even think Lyric would be missing me like I missed him? We’d both agreed it was a one-night thing. I should have accepted that. No doubt, he’d had plenty of other girls in his bed since me, and it looked like the pretty blonde with the sweet voice was the one who would be warming it tonight.
Fuck, but I was stupid. Flying thousands of miles to see a guy I’d only known for a few hours was ridiculous. Assuming we might actually have a shot at a relationship… I was an idiot. What had been special for me was just his normal Friday night.
My head was throbbing by the time I got back to the airport. My return ticket was for a first-class seat, but one scheduled for a flight in three days. The woman behind the ticket counter offered to exchange it for a flight that left in forty-five minutes, but first class was full. All they had left was a seat in economy, but I didn’t care.
All I wanted was to go home and forget about New York City and Lyric Thornton.
Chapter 11
Lyric
“This place is beyond small,” Luca observed as I drove through town on the way to my new shop.
“I like it,” I told him as we passed some diner called Aggie’s.
It had taken some time, and a little help from Aunt Emmie, but everything had been finalized the week before. When I’d called my aunt the same day Mila had left me, Emmie had thought I’d lost my mind when I told her what I wanted her to do for me.
Buy me a house in Creswell Springs, California, and find out if the only tattoo shop in the county is hiring—and if not, ask if he is willing to take on a business partner.
Thankfully, Mila had given me that much to go on, and it had only taken a Google search to find out the name of her father’s tattoo shop.