Desire (Men of Inked Sinners #5)

1. Mason

MASON

The bar is nearly empty, the midday rush having ended an hour ago. We’ve been busier lately than we’ve been in months, but that’s normal when the city starts to thaw from a long, cold winter.

I glance down the bar, seeing Zoey with her forehead pressed against the counter. “Are you okay?”

She waves me off, not even bothering to lift her head or look my way. “Fine. Fine.”

Growing up with an older sister, I know fine doesn’t mean what it says in the dictionary. “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. I’m just panicking about wedding stuff.”

We’re a month out from the big day, and I’ve been tasked with being the best man. I was honored when Hunter asked me, but the reason I jumped at the role was that his sister is the maid of honor.

“Everything will get done.”

Zoey groans as she pushes herself upright. “I know, but it’s just so much. Remember when I say this…elope,” she says, drawing out the word.

“Noted,” I tell her as I wipe away a wet spot on the counter in front of me. “With a front-row seat to your wedding and Tate’s, eloping sounds perfect.”

“Do it in a tropical and exotic location too. Somewhere with sun and sand.”

“Florida?”

Zoey rolls her eyes before she rubs her forehead like I’m giving her a headache. “I said exotic. Who thinks Florida is exotic?”

“I do.” I smirk, knowing I’m annoying her, but at least she’s focused on me and not the other shit that’s been running through her head. “Where do you think Lizzy will want to get married?”

Zoey’s arms fall to her sides as her eyes widen. “Mason,” she whispers.

“What?” I busy myself with useless tasks, avoiding her gaze.

“If you yank this woman around…”

“I’m not. I wouldn’t,” I tell her honestly.

“She’s going to be my sister-in-law and your cousin-in-law.”

“Cousin-in-law is not a thing, Zo.”

She closes the space between us and touches my arm, stopping me from cleaning the countertop. “Do you really like her?”

I finally meet her gaze, wanting her to know exactly how I feel. “I’ve never liked anyone else as much as I like her.”

She tightens her fingers around my arm. “Please don’t break her heart. This isn’t a game.”

My eyes narrow as I stare down at my cousin. “My plan isn’t to hurt her. It’s to put a ring on that finger.”

“She’s a small-town girl,” she says, like I’m clueless about Lizzy’s life.

“I’m well aware of where she and Hunter come from. But she loves Chicago, and as soon as she sees it in the summer, she’s going to jump at the chance to live here. Especially since Hunter and Amira live here.”

“Could you live in a small town?” she asks me pointedly.

“Um, no.”

“Then don’t assume she’d want to live here for any reason. Even love might not be strong enough to change everything about your life.”

“Would you have moved if Hunter asked?”

She stares back at me and blinks a few times. “I think so.” Her voice lilts upward on the last word as if she isn’t sure, but I know my cousin. She would follow that man to the ends of the earth.

The doors to the bar open, letting in a stream of sunshine, something we’ve been lacking for months. Lizzy steps inside, and with the light behind her, she looks more like an angel than a human being.

My breath catches in my lungs as I soak her in.

Her dark hair billows over the shoulders of her jacket, which is pulled tight to keep out the chilled air.

She has on a pair of boots that aren’t sexy at all, but necessary with the slush that seems to be everywhere as the snow starts to melt.

I can’t make out the features of her face until she takes a few steps into the bar and out of the sunlight.

“Hey,” Lizzy says with a giant smile on her beautiful face. “Sorry I’m late.”

“I didn’t even notice,” Zoey tells her, but she’s lying. She notices everything, and it’s been made worse by the stress of her impending nuptials. “We’re easy breezy.”

I snort and earn myself a jab in the side from my cousin. “Liar,” I whisper as I grimace through the throb from my battered ribs.

Lizzy weaves through the empty tables, making her way in our direction. Her green eyes move to me, rising at the corners as soon as her gaze meets mine. “Hey, Mason.”

“Hey,” I say with a chin lift and immediately regret it. That’s how I greet friends, not the woman I’m hopelessly in love with.

I know. I know. I barely know her. She’s been in my life for under a year, but that doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t real. I knew the moment I laid eyes on her that I wanted her, but after spending time with her, especially after Hunter was shot, I knew I wanted more… I wanted everything with her.

We’ve hung out every time she’s come to town since then.

I’ve always been a perfect gentleman. Although everyone in the family thinks we’re already sleeping together.

I listened to my cousin’s and my sister’s advice—take it slow.

Something I’ve never been good at, but with Lizzy, it’s surprisingly easy.

The distance makes it easier. If I had to see her every day and move at a snail’s pace, I’d probably lose my mind.

“We going out tonight?” Lizzy asks me as she slides onto a stool opposite where Zoey and I stand behind the bar.

Zoey clears her throat, clearly unhappy at how close Lizzy and I have become.

“Of course. Do you know where you want to go?” I ask her, always trying to let her lead and be a gentleman.

“Anywhere you want. I’m yours.”

I nearly choke on my own spit at her reply. Damn. I crave to hear her say those words but mean them in their entirety. Slow, Mason. Slow.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Wow. You two are going to burn the midnight oil,” Zoey says, her gaze moving between Lizzy and me. “You sure you don’t want to do something earlier?”

I turn my head to my cousin and stare at her. “When did you turn into an old person?”

She clears her throat, stretching her neck in a way that I know I hit a chord I didn’t entirely mean to hit. “I’m not old.”

“No, you’re not, and neither are we.” I turn my attention back to Lizzy, soaking in the green of her eyes as she watches me. “You want to do earlier?”

Lizzy shakes her head, brushing a few strands away from her cheek. “Eight is perfect. We have a lot to do before then.”

“Fuck,” Zoey groans and crumples over, resting her head against the bar top again. “There’s so much to do.”

Lizzy’s eyes widen, and she turns to me, looking for a rescue, or maybe it’s more concern. “Don’t worry. It’ll all fall into place.” Lizzy reaches forward, placing her hand on top of my cousin’s. “We’re all here to help.”

“There’s not enough time to do it all,” Zoey says, her voice muffled by the wood. “It’s going to be a failure.”

Lizzy strokes Zoey’s hand with her thumb as she tries to soothe her. “All that matters is that you and Hunter are there and say your vows. Everything else is extra. Do you want to cancel everything and just go to city hall?”

Zoey pulls up her head but not her entire body. She’s overly dramatic lately, but that isn’t surprising. “I can’t. I don’t want that.”

Everyone in the family has a bit of drama llama in them, but when there’s extreme pressure like planning a wedding, they get even worse.

I can’t wait for the entire thing to be over so I don’t have to hear about it every day at work.

Zoey has always been chill, but she’s been a bundle of nerves for months now.

“Then we’ll get it done, and it’ll be perfect,” Lizzy tells her, and her voice doesn’t waver. Even I believe what she’s saying, though I know the chance of something going wrong is high. It’s inevitable. “Mason and I are here to make sure of it.”

I want to say something, but I keep my mouth shut. I’m not setting foot in the wedding planning. I didn’t do it with my sister Tate when she got married to Wylder, and I sure as hell am not about to do it with Zoey. I know my limits, and wedding planning falls far outside my scope.

When I don’t say anything, Lizzy slices her eyes to mine. “Right, Mason?”

“Yeah, sure. Of course,” I say, but my voice isn’t as strong or sure as Lizzy’s. “We’re here for whatever you need.”

I’ll always support my cousin. Just like I would for anyone else in my family.

But who wants me, a twentysomething-year-old man, helping to plan their wedding?

The bachelor party—that, I could do, but everything else would only end in disappointment because there isn’t a frilly, girlie bone in my body.

Zoey pushes herself upright again and tugs on the hem of her sweatshirt as she straightens. “Okay. I can do this. I just need a minute,” she says before she stalks away and into the back room.

The entire time, my eyes are trained on Lizzy. I can see worry all over her face. I’ve been around her enough to be able to pick up on most of her emotions, especially with the shit we’ve been through in such a short time.

“That girl is going to stroke out,” Lizzy says as soon as Zoey disappears.

I chuckle as I lean over the bar, getting closer to Lizzy. “She’ll be all right because she has you.”

“And you,” Lizzy says and reaches out, playfully bopping my nose with her finger. “You have a more calming presence than you know.”

I snatch her hand in my grip, wanting and needing to touch her in any way possible. “You’re the only one who would say that, Lizzy.”

“You’re like a warm hug or a favorite blanket.”

I don’t know if I should be offended by the statement. I want to be more than that, but I also like that I’m something that someone—specifically Lizzy—would wrap around their body.

“Is that a good thing?” I ask her.

“A very good thing,” she says with a smirk.

Have I kissed this woman? No. Do I plan to tonight?

Hell yes. I can’t go another minute without touching my lips to hers.

There’s slow and then there’s torture, and I’ve solidly slid into the painful side of the timing spectrum over the last few months.

I don’t want to do anything to drive her away, but it’s gotten ridiculous by this point.

Everyone already thinks we’ve slept together. Sure, she’s crashed at my place a few times, but I’ve always been a gentleman. She is Hunter’s sister after all, and the last thing I need is that man coming after me for any reason.

“I’m going to need a few drinks after an afternoon of wedding planning. I hope wherever we’re going, there’s going to be alcohol.”

I give her a wink. “I got you, baby.”

Her cheeks turn a shade of pink that reminds me of the roses my mother grows in her front yard. “Good.”

“Okay. I’m ready,” Zoey says, walking out of the back room and pulling on her coat. If I hadn’t been in the room, I wouldn’t have guessed she was having a meltdown a few minutes ago. “Let’s do this.”

“Good,” Lizzy says, jumping off the stool like her ass is on fire. “You want me to drive?”

“Uh,” Zoey mutters and shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Neither do I, but I don’t say those words out loud.

Driving in Chicago isn’t for the faint of heart.

Besides dodging other drivers, you have to keep your eyes out for the taxi drivers, who are the real danger when the roads are busy.

They’re in a hurry, and they don’t have time for traffic laws or turn signals.

“Good, because I like my car without dents,” Lizzy says with a chuckle as she moves toward the end of the bar where Zoey is standing.

“Oh, we’re still taking your car, though. I didn’t bring mine today,” Zoey tells her.

Lizzy sticks her hand in her pocket, fishes out her keys, and holds them up to Zoey. “I have faith in you.”

Zoey’s a shit driver. It’s almost a running joke in the family. She’s the last person I’d give my keys to and hope the car returns in the same condition she got it. But again, I don’t say a word because I don’t need them both giving me the stink eye.

“Well, that’s one of us,” Zoey says as she takes the keys from Lizzy’s hands. “I’ll be careful. Don’t worry.”

“She would’ve made a great taxi driver,” I say before they head for the door.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Zoey replies, but she knows it’s not, even if Lizzy doesn’t.

“Pick me up at eight. Don’t forget about me,” Lizzy says as she pulls a pair of sunglasses out of her other pocket and slides them onto her face.

“You’re impossible to forget,” I tell her, and I don’t think I’ve ever said anything so true in my entire life.

I get a wave from each of them before they disappear into the crisp air that has a hint of spring, even if it’s missing the warmth.

“You got it bad,” Marvin says, the man a regular at the bar for decades. He knew me when I was knee-high, and he’s watched me grow up as I’ve watched him age. “Real bad.”

“Another?” I ask, my gaze dipping to the nearly empty beer in front of him.

He pushes the glass forward, silently answering my question. “You datin’ her yet?”

I shake my head as I grab his glass.

“What’s taking you so long? I’ve watched you pant after that woman for months now. You’re not usually so slow.”

“Marv,” I say, warning him to drop it before I cut him off when he’s only had two.

“Time isn’t infinite, kid. It runs out eventually. Don’t waste too much time trying to be a gentleman. When the big guy upstairs decides it’s your time, it’s your time. You don’t want to be gasping for your last breaths, regretting what could’ve been if you weren’t such a pansy-ass to go after it.”

“Geez, bud.” I set the refilled glass down in front of him. “You should really write inspiration books.”

He takes the beer, lifts it up, and tips it in my direction without spilling a drop. “Take it from an old man, go after what you want and don’t waste a single minute.”

As much as I want to write off Marv as a man who overconsumes alcohol and doesn’t know very much about anything except beer, he is right.

Time isn’t infinite, and if I don’t go after what I want, Lizzy will slip through my hands. I won’t go down that path. I am going to act, and it is going to be swift.