Page 7 of Shore Leave
I glance up at him, expecting a joking glimmer in his eyes, but it’s clear he’s dead-ass serious. The bark of laughter that comes from me is surprising, but not unwelcome. Not unwelcome at all. It’s been hard to laugh over the last three months, not going to lie.
“You don’t need to kick anyone’s ass, Loot, but I sure as fuck appreciate the offer,” I assure him sincerely.
“Most things can be solved with a little ass kicking,” he mumbles, and I can’t help but grin as I finish the man’s tattoo.
After I’ve finished and he’s all wrapped up, I wave my hand dismissively. “I won’t bore you with all the aftercare. You know what to do.”
His chuckle is low and dark. If only it did something naughty to my lady bits. But it doesn’t.
From the moment I met Loot it felt like he was the big brother I wasn’t sure I wanted but got all the same. That feeling has only grown as I’ve had the opportunity to work on him.
“I’m good with that shit, sweetheart,” he assures me. When I pull off my gloves, I’m a little startled as he grips my hand tightly. My eyes snap up to his and his dark eyes bore into mine. “You know if you need anything, all you have to do is ask, Emery. As far as I’m concerned, your family.”
Fuck.
My eyes well up with his words. I know they shouldn’t matter so much, but when you’re short on family, it means everything.
“Thanks,” I choke out.
“Aw, hell,” he grumbles before pulling me against his chest and hugging me tightly against him.
It feels damn good. Not as good as the night I spent in Kade’s arms, but beggars can’t be choosers and all that shit.
His words are whispered against the top of my head, “Is it your dick boss?”
I sigh, “Nothing’s changed on that front, but it’s not worse.”
“I wish the club would just open a fucking tattoo shop,” he grouses, and everything inside of me freezes.
Kade told me about how he wanted to open a shop for the club. That was the plan, but then everything went to shit. Hell, that’s a sentiment I can understand. Far too well.
The only thing I can do is push away the feelings of compassion I want to feel toward Kade. He left me without even a fucking note.
Clearly, I didn’t mean as much to him as he meant to me.
I just wish it wouldn’t fucking hurt.
“When the club is finally able to get that shit open, your name is the first one I’m putting out there to be hired. You’d be a tremendous asset, Em,” his voice is earnest, and it makes my heart skip a beat. He almost makes it sound like that could happen soon. “Just wish I knew when it was going to happen.”
Well, fuck. Dreams dashed. Hope falling on the rocky outcropping under the cliffs. Talk about fucking tragic.
I take a deep breath and force a smile to stretch my lips as I look up at Loot. “It’s all good,” I assure him. “I’m fine here for now.”
He arches an eyebrow at me like he doesn’t believe me, but, thankfully, he doesn’t push it either. What he does do is narrow his eyes at me and muse, “Maybe I should force you out to a party at the clubhouse.”
I feel the blood drain from my face as I turn away from him quickly, hoping he doesn’t see my reaction to his suggestion. “I’m not sure you and your brothers could keep up with me,” I quip.
His bark of laughter lessens the pressure around my chest, and it feels like I can take a breath, a real one. “I have no doubt you’d give us a run for our money,” he teases me.
I flip him off without looking at him because I don’t want him to see deeper than he already has. There’s no way I will ever go to his clubhouse, but he doesn’t need to know that. He’s a good man and a good friend, but that only goes so far when it comes to him being my client as well.
With a gentle kiss on my temple and a promise to shoot me a text soon, he’s out the door and I fight the need to slump against the wall and let everything truly weigh me down. It would be so easy, so damn easy. But I fight against the feeling because it won’t do me a bit of good and I need to get everything cleaned up before I head over to my aunt’s house for dinner.
I’ve been avoiding her a little bit over the last three months because I know she’d be able to see right through the façade I’ve carefully crafted brick by brick. She knows me too damn well and hashing out the one-night stand that left me reeling is not something I want to do.
No thanks.
I’m exhausted by the time I get everything cleaned up and I leave the shop. I know it’s not just about the hours I put in on Loot’s tattoo. Normally, I love my work, but it’s been harder to focus and find the spark of joy inside of me which used to always come so easily.