Falling for Fallon (Oak Hill 2)

What. Did. I. Get. Myself. Into?

“Fallon, relax,” Derek said after chuckling. “Your parents did it. My parents did it. Our grandparents did it.”

My mouth fell open. I was horrified. “Did IT? Like sex?! Why are you even bringing that up?!”

“I meant an arranged marriage… not sex. Although, I’m sure they did that, too. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be standing here right now, arguing over having sex when we’re married.”

“Oh,” I said, my heart still flying a million miles a second.

“Just take a breath, Fallon,” Derek repeated, pulling the door open. “Everything will fall into place when it’s the right time. I have no doubt that you’ll fall into my bed willingly.”

My body went ice cold, and anger quickly melted away any fear that I had been feeling. “I surely wouldn’t be falling into it any other way.”

Derek flashed a dangerous grin my way, and I was sure it would have caused some other woman’s panties to fly off her body and out the door…but not mine.

It made me feel… gross. Derek walked out the door and yelled back, “I’ll call you soon, Fallon.” Then he shut it behind him.

I slowly sunk to the ground, my back resting against the side of my bar. It was like wrought-iron bars shot up around my body and caged me in.

I felt detained in my own skin, and the only thing I wanted to do was break free.

An arranged marriage… that’s what this was.

Breaking free was just what I was gonna do… even if it was only temporary.

Chapter Two

Emmett

I leaned back on my leather chair and bit my fist as I watched Axe work his charm on the client. She was a hot little piece—if you were into the whole “I’m a stripper” thing. Her platinum hair was long and messy, falling halfway down her back. Except, right now, it wasn’t hanging do

wn her back. It was pulled over to the side, resting on her bare shoulder. Her orange-ish colored lower back was exposed as Axe continued to tattoo the purple and pink butterfly right above her G-string.

“Yeah, you’ve probably seen me around.” The stripper look-alike giggled. “I actually work down at Platinum’s.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I fucking knew it. Axe gave me a death glare, but being friends for almost ten years now, I knew he wasn’t really going to kick my ass. Kip groaned, his chair squeaking as he pushed his body upward. He stood up and walked over to me. I grinned mischievously as he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet.

“How do you always fucking know?” he snarled, slapping a crisp twenty into my hand.

I looked around Kip, making sure that the actual stripper wasn’t listening to us—you know, bad business and all. She was still flirting with Axe even though he was no longer into her, realizing that she did, in fact, work a pole for a living.

“It’s a fuckin’ gift, bro. I just know.”

Kip threw his hands up. “Yeah, but you don’t even fucking go to the strip clubs. What? Do you watch stripper porn at night or something? I don’t get it.”

I barked out another laugh, causing Axe to yell over to us. “Stop fucking around. I’m trying to tattoo over here.”

The stripper laughed again. I rolled my eyes. He could tattoo a fucking crooked penis on her back and she’d still probably suck his dick afterward.

I scoffed, leaning back in my chair again. “I don’t watch stripper porn, jackass. But enough of them come in for a tattoo or piercing that I can recognize them almost immediately.”

I had owned the tattoo shop for a couple of years now. I started it a couple years after graduating college with my art and business degree. I majored in business but minored in art, because right after I graduated from the military school my parents had sent me to (thinking it would straighten me out), I wanted to pursue my artistic talents—whether my parents agreed with it or not. What better way than to open up my own tattoo shop? I hung out at one near the university constantly, and then when they’d offered me a position, I fell in love with it. I loved tattooing and exploring my artistic talents more than anything, so once I got the idea to open my own shop in my hometown, I just went with it.

It was funny because I wasn’t your typical tattoo artist. I wasn’t covered in tats from head to toe—not that anything was wrong with that. I just wasn’t a big fan of having a needle rub my skin raw to display art. I liked doing the art, not receiving it.

Not to give you the wrong picture, though. I did have some tattoos. They were just in spots that weren’t explicitly visible… unless I was naked.

Axe, though… he had plenty of tattoos to go around. In fact, he was the first person I’d ever actually tattooed. It was a barbwire around his bicep.