Tattooed Sweetheart

I smiled. “I’m glad one of us does.” She gave me a curious look but didn’t comment on what I meant.

I don’t even think I knew what I meant. I wanted things to go smoothly and work with Malkolm. He brought out this side of me I didn’t even know existed. And that scared the hell out of me.

So even though I wanted this to work, I was scared and hesitant and knew all I could do was hope for the best.

4

Malkolm

If I thought she consumed my thoughts before, I was in for one hell of a surprise after speaking with Flora and her agreeing to go on a date with me.

“You’re taking her where?” There was thickly laced amusement in Ryder’s voice as he sat behind the front desk, a half-eaten sandwich in one hand, a cream soda in the other.

I pulled the tattoo gun away from my client’s arm and set it aside. I gave him a glance before answering, then finished cleaning up the newly marked skin.

“Porky’s,” I mumbled, and I felt my client's gaze searing into me before he burst out laughing.

“Um” was all Ryder said before he stuffed his mouth with a bite of sandwich, a grin in place as he chewed.

“What?” I prompted as I wrapped the tattoo up, muttering the home instructions—although, my client was a regular and had more ink than me, so he knew the drill.

“I assume you’ve never been to Porky’s?” Bill, the client I just finished tattooing, rolled down his shirt sleeve and looked at me.

“What? I’ve been there. Once before.” I looked between Ryder and Bill.

Bill’s expression was unreadable, and his salt-and-pepper hair was styled impeccably, and the button-down shirt looked crisp and pressed. He was a physician in Sweetheart, yet I doubted anyone was aware of the ink that covered him. His chest, his arms, hell, most of his back was inked up.

“So you’ve been there before, and you’re still willingly taking her there for your first date?” It was Ryder who spoke.

I held his gaze with my own. I wasn’t sure why he and Bill were making such a big deal about it. I understood Porky’s wasn’t the fanciest restaurant, wasn’t some five-star Italian joint, but I got the vibe that Flora wasn’t that type of girl. I got the feeling that she’d appreciate anywhere we went.

“I like Porky’s. And their barbecue is the best in the state, which was the main reason I picked going there.” Bill and Ryder looked at each other before they both started laughing.

“Man,” Ryder said as he stood and threw away the wrapper from his sandwich and his now empty soda bottle. “I’m not saying their food isn’t kick-ass, but the atmosphere certainly isn’t what I call first-date material.”

I was cleaning up my station when I lifted an eyebrow at him. “Yeah? Why don’t you tell me what a first date place is for you?” This should be good.

Ryder leaned against the wall and crossed his muscular arms over his wide chest, looking off in the distance as if he was really thinking about it. “I’d take her someplace that’s underrated. Hell, I’d take her somewhere she’s probably never heard of before.” He nodded once like that was the best fucking idea he’d ever come up with. “She’d be so amazed at the food and the atmosphere, at the fact I found some hole-in-the-wall gem, that nothing else would top it.”

I snorted and shook my head. “Flora doesn’t come off as the kind of woman who gives a shit where she goes as long as she enjoys the company.” I didn’t know her that well to actually say for certain she was like that, but I was pretty good at reading people, and I’d gotten that vibe from her as soon as I’d first seen her.

She came across as down to earth and no-nonsense. She had to be in order to be successful, own her own business, and be as independent as she was. And that was such a fucking turn-on.

“I have to agree with Ryder,” Bill finally interjected as he headed to the front counter.

I met him on the other side to check him out but didn’t hide my irritation toward the two guys.

“I mean, Porky’s has incredible barbecue, and I enjoy the atmosphere. It kind of gives me Urban Cowboy vibes. And I’d wager it’s the best I’ve had in the country. But damn, Malkolm, they have peanut shells all over the floor, and that place is so messy you have to use a bib to eat.”

I was starting to regret my choice.

“Like, I don’t think any woman wants barbecue sauce covering their face on a first date.” He shrugged.

“I mean, that’s the appeal,” I muttered as I looked at Bill. I liked the fact that the place had a very messy atmosphere, where the country music was loud, the floors dirty with discarded shells, and how there were neon signs everywhere.