“Fine.” I took the glass from him. It was whiskey in there, I could tell, and I knocked it back quickly.

“I’ll be honest,” Everett said as he knocked back his own shot, “I’m more worried about you crashing because you’re in such an awful damn hurry. Tell me, does she turn into a gremlin at night or something? Is there some reason you need to be on your horse this early?”

“She doesn’t turn into a gremlin,” I said, “at least as far as I know. But I don’t think so. I just have plans.”

“What are you planning? Building her a boat first? Are you going to drive to town and get a marriage license, just in case?”

“Not quite,” I said, laughing in spite of myself. “I just want to get there early and spend some time with her at her work. It’s not that crazy.”

“Never, in the history of the English language, has someone successfully defending their actions by saying ‘it’s not that crazy,’” Everett said. I laughed. “Seriously, man. Chill out. She’ll still be there by the time you get there. She knows you’re coming. She won’t go anywhere.”

“I know. I’m just excited, man. It’s been a long, long time since I was excited about going out with anyone.”

“I remember,” he said. “Which is why I want you to take a breath and slow down. I’m looking out for you, boss. That’s my job.”

“I appreciate it.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “But I’m fine. I just want to roll.”

“You’re acting like a teenager, mister,” Everett joked. “Do I need to put a curfew on you? I think I do.”

“No, you don’t,” I said, but it was too late. Everett had already stood up extremely straight, had one finger in the air, and was shouting.

I declare that your curfew is to be not later than eleven in the morning and not earlier than midnight! I shall be very cross if you return before midnight!”

“Cross?” I laughed. “You’ll be cross?”

“Queen’s English. More formal,” he said. “Thusly, I do decree it! Make it so, number one.”

“So, now we’re on Star Trek?”

“As long as I’m Picard, yes,” he said. “Now get out of here. Don’t come home before midnight. I decreed it.”

“Later,” I said, taking the opportunity to escape the insanity and get outside.

I hopped in the truck and turned over the engine. It roared to life, and I put it in gear. There was something to what he’d said in there. Not the stuff about the made-up rules, but about me acting like a teenager. I felt like a teenager. Something about her, about being around her and her energy, it made me feel young again. It made me feel alive again in a way I didn’t even realize I didn’t feel before.

I hightailed it across town, so eager to see her again that I was pretty sure I was speeding the whole way.

14

REBECCA

After the long, busy week at the diner, Saturday at the tattoo shop was almost boring. Gus had scheduled appointments for a few complicated pieces, which meant it felt slow and quiet at the shop most of the day. I did the work I needed to do for each of the customers and made a couple more appointments for the next week, but much of the day was spent doodling in my notebook.

It was days like this when I wished even more that Gus would accept me as his official apprentice and get me started working on people. If I could do even the beginning work, just the outlines, or just touch-ups, it would make such a difference. Gus’s shop certainly wasn’t hurting for business. People came from hours away to see him, and it was far more frequent for him to turn away work than it was for him to have empty space in his schedule.

If he were to get me trained, we could take advantage of the popularity and retain more of the business. I could make more money, and he would be even more popular. Days like that one were particularly frustrating because of how much downtime there seemed to be. He was working, but the rest of the shop was empty. It was the perfect opportunity for me to have customers.

Hopefully soon.

I had to admit, as silly as it sounded, I got what Gus was saying about getting my tattoo. Now that I had my sunflower, I felt more legit sitting in the shop and was already trying to come up with the next design I wanted. I was constantly coming up with new designs, and Gus sometimes chose a few of them to put up on the wall for customers to choose. Now I had pages dedicated to these public designs and others meant just for me.

Gus was still working on someone, and I was trying to fix a part of a design that was driving me crazy when I heard a truck pull up in front of the shop. I looked up at the large window overlooking the parking lot and saw it was Deacon. A grin stretched across my face when he hopped out of the truck and started toward the door.

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
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