Chapter 4
FOUR
Shane
“Dad! I need you!”
My seventeen-year-old daughter’s panicked voice has me setting my coffee on the counter.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, stepping out of the kitchen to meet her in the living room as our dog, Becky—a German shepherd Lab mix we rescued a few years ago—jumps up from the couch, wagging her tail and begging for attention.
Since Taylor only ran out the door a few minutes ago for school, I can’t imagine what’s happened to cause her hysteria in that short amount of time. But one thing I’ve learned from being a single dad to a teenage girl is that the things we wouldn’t expect to cause stress seem to.
Wrong hair color, a pimple on her forehead, can’t find the right shoes to match the dress—doesn’t sound like any of that would be the end of the world, right? Wrong. Every one of those is serious enough to cause a breakdown—trust me, I’ve experienced it firsthand.
“My tire is flat, and I’m going to be late to school, and we have a pep rally today! If I miss it?—”
“Breathe,” I say with a laugh, thankful her outburst wasn’t something serious.
“Dad!” She groans.
“Let’s go.” I nod toward the front door. “Today, you’ll learn how to change a tire.”
“But I’m—” she starts to complain as she follows.
“Late. I heard. What would you have done had I not been here?”
“Called you to come home.”
I chuckle. “And what if I were on a call?”
“I would’ve asked Pop.”
“They’re out of town,” I remind her.
My parents live next door, but since they officially retired a few years ago and my daughter is now old enough to stay alone overnight while I work my shifts at the station, they’ve started to travel more often.
“Fine, let’s go,” she says, knowing I’m not going to budge.
Since I work twenty-four-hour shifts as a firefighter paramedic, I always want to make sure my daughter is capable of handling things if I’m not available. I hate having to leave her, but thankfully, when she was younger, while I was saving for a place of our own, we lived with my parents, who helped tremendously. It also helps that we live in a small town and the station is walking distance from our house on Main Street.
“Look, it’s right there,” Taylor says, crouching in front of the tire and pointing out the silver screw wedged into the rubber.
“We’ll put a spare on, and I’ll bring it by Ron’s garage later to get it plugged.”
After getting the spare and jack out of her trunk and explaining how to raise her car properly so she can safely change the tire, I go about doing so, walking her through each step until the spare tire is on and her flat one has been thrown into the back of my truck.
“Thank you, Dad!” Taylor throws her arms around me and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Love you.”
“Love you too, Tay. What time will you be home?”
“It’s on the calendar,” she mocks, repeating what I always tell her when she asks me the same question. “I have work after school, so not until late,” she calls out as she hops into her white two-door Jeep Wrangler that she calls Snowball and then takes off.
Once she’s gone, I let Becky out into the backyard and then heat up my coffee and make breakfast. While I sit at the table, eating and going through my calendar, I text my brother to see if he’s up for any company today.
Eric and his wife, Katie, own a health club in town called Brookside Health Club. Before they opened it, the only fitness center was almost forty minutes away in the next town over. He saw the need and took a risk, and it paid off because the place is always busy.
Since I’m off five days a week, thanks to my two twenty-four-hour shifts, I go in a few days a week to teach various classes and help. It not only helps me stay in shape and gives me extra money in my pocket, but it also keeps me busy since my parents are gone a lot and my daughter is busy with school, friends, extracurriculars, and her job at the local bookstore and coffee shop.
Eric
I was just about to text you. Katie has a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, and I have a new member consultation. Wanna run through it for me?
Katie and Eric are expecting their first baby in May, and they’re finding out soon whether it’s a boy or a girl.
Me
Sure.
After I finish eating, I throw on my gym attire and head to the health club. I’m getting out of my truck when my eyes land on the business sign a few doors down— Exposed Ink — and my mind goes back to last week when we were called out to Neptune’s for an allergic reaction.
Even though she had a swollen and splotchy face, I could tell the woman was beautiful. That normally wouldn’t be enough to pique my interest. I’ve rescued plenty of pretty women during my fifteen years as a firefighter paramedic. But there was something about the way her blue eyes peered into mine as she begged me not to take her to the hospital that caught my attention.
After I finished the paperwork, I had every intention of leaving to go back to the station, but before I could question what I was doing, I was heading down the hall to the room I knew she was in to make sure she was okay—despite knowing she was since I’d left her completely stable. The only thing the doctor had to do was give her some fluids to be on the safe side and monitor her for a few hours before discharging her.
I could tell from my brief conversation with Kinsley that there was so much more to her than met the eye, and I wanted to dig deep and find it all out. I wanted to ask for her number, but then her friend showed up, and despite her making it clear I should reach out to Kinsley, when Kinsley got embarrassed—her pale skin turning a beautiful shade of pink—I second-guessed myself and left without her number.
Every day for the past week, I’ve been thinking about her. Every time I go to the health club and see the Exposed Ink sign, I consider walking in and asking to speak to her. But I keep chickening out.
My phone dings with an incoming text, so I pull it out and see it’s from my brother.
Eric
Hope you haven’t left yet. Newbie canceled due to an emergency.
Me
No worries. Let me know if anything changes.
I pocket my phone and head inside, figuring since I’m already here, I might as well get a workout in. The entire time, I can’t stop wondering if Kinsley is a few doors down. She obviously works at Exposed Ink, and based on the ink on her body, she’s no stranger to being tattooed. But I’m not sure what she does there.
As I was leaving her hospital room, I saw what looked like her parents—judging by the number of tattoos they were both sporting and the matching Exposed Ink shirt the guy was wearing. Maybe she’s a tattoo artist.
After I’ve gotten my workout in, I take a quick shower, get dressed in a change of clothes I keep in the locker room, and then head out.
I’m halfway to my truck when I change direction and end up standing in front of the tattoo shop. The open sign is illuminated, so I take that as my sign to go in.
A young guy with spiky black hair and several piercings in his face smiles at me as I walk up to the front desk.
“Welcome to Exposed Ink,” he greets. “How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Kinsley.”
“Are you looking to get inked or pierced?” he asks.
“Um, neither. I was hoping to speak with her. Is she around?” I glance down the hallway, hoping to catch her, but it’s empty.
The guy eyes me curiously for several seconds before he says, “What’s your name?”
“Shane.”
“And what do you want to speak to her about, Shane?”
Okay … this guy is either protective or has a thing for Kinsley.
“I met her last week and wanted to talk to her about something personal.”
After a long moment, he says, “Give me a minute,” then disappears down the hall, going into the second door on the right.
While I wait, I check out the shop. I’ve never been in here before, but it’s not how I imagined a tattoo shop would look. With an L-shaped black leather sectional, a sleek black coffee table with what looks like photo albums sitting on them, and a red felt pool table, the waiting area looks more like something you’d see in a wealthy person’s house or an upscale club than a tattoo shop.
There’s cool graffiti donning the walls, and I notice that several are sporting Kinsley’s name underneath them. If the drawings on the wall are any indication, she’s a seriously talented artist.
The front desk is sleek black, and to the right of it is a glass case with a bunch of jewelry inside it. Hanging above the case are several pictures in frames. I step closer to get a better look and immediately recognize Kinsley standing in between the two older people I saw at the hospital, the ones I assumed to be her parents. She doesn’t really look like either one, but her soft smile is identical to the woman who has her arm wrapped around Kinsley’s waist.
“Can I help you?” Kinsley says, steering my attention from the picture over to her.
She’s wearing a similar outfit to the one she was wearing at Neptune’s—a black Exposed Ink shirt and ripped jeans that mold to her shapely legs. Instead of the black Chucks she was sporting, she’s in white today. And unlike the high ponytail her hair was in, it’s down in two braids, making her look younger than her twenty-eight years.
“Hey, I don’t know if you remember me …
“I do,” she says without so much as a smile, her expression giving absolutely nothing away. “You’re the guy from the hospital.”
“Yeah.” I step closer to her, ignoring the guy who’s now back to sitting behind the desk, watching our exchange. “How are you doing?”
“Wow.” She laughs softly—a tiny smile curling up at the corners of her mouth—and tilts her head slightly to the side. “First, a hospital call, and now, you’re at my work to check on me. They should give you a Paramedic of the Year award.”
I chuckle. “I swear, I normally don’t do this. It’s just that I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I was wondering if you might want to hang out sometime.” Holy shit, I sound like a fucking teenage boy. “I mean, I was hoping you might want to go out with me … to eat.” I push out a harsh breath and shake my head. “I’m sorry, I seriously suck at this. It’s been a while since I asked a woman out and …”
Kinsley snorts out a laugh, her blue eyes brightening with mirth, and I realize it’s the first time I’ve seen her laugh and smile, and, holy shit, she was beautiful before, but when she smiles, she lights up the whole damn place.
“What I’m trying to say is, would you like to go on a date with me?”
Kinsley’s smile drops, and before she speaks, I already know what her answer is going to be. “I’m sorry,” she says, “but the only way we can spend any time together is if I’m inking you … or you’re treating me in an ambulance. And since I don’t plan to consume any more raw fruit, the second option is out. I appreciate you saving me, and you seem like a nice guy, but I’m unavailable.”
I’m confused by her words since her cousin said otherwise at the hospital, but before I can seek clarification, she dismisses me by quickly telling me to have a good day and then heading back down the hallway, disappearing into the room the front-desk guy went into.
“Sorry, man,” front-desk guy says, shooting me a sympathetic look.
“Honestly, it doesn’t surprise me that she’s taken,” I say as the guy from the hospital and picture steps out of the first room, his eyes focused intently on me.
“I’m Lachlan, Kinsley’s dad,” he says, pulling his glove off his hand and extending it.
“Shane.” I shake his hand. “I’m the paramedic who brought her in last week.”
“I know who you are. Thank you for saving my daughter’s life. And FYI, she’s not taken.”
“But she said …” I begin, confused as hell.
First, her cousin suggested I ask her out, then Kinsley told me she’s unavailable, and now, her dad is telling me she’s single?
“That she’s unavailable. Yeah, I heard,” Lachlan says. “But it’s not because she’s in a relationship. She’s single. Hasn’t dated in years. But in her head, she’s emotionally unavailable. Got a ten-foot wall erected around her big-ass heart.”
“More like fifty-foot,” front-desk guy mutters. “And the only way you’re getting to her is by breaking down that wall, and in order to do that, you’d better be damn strong.” He eyes me from head to toe with a smirk. “How strong are you, Shane?”
When my eyes go wide, unsure how to respond, Lachlan chuckles. “Ignore Scott’s flirting. He’s harmless. But he’s not wrong.” His features turn serious. “It would take someone extremely strong and determined to break down the wall my daughter has built.”
I nod in understanding, her reluctance now making sense. “Gotcha.”
I turn on my heel, ready to admit defeat, but as his words play on repeat, I stop at the door, unable to open it.
If I were smart, I would heed their warning and walk away. Kinsley made it clear she wasn’t interested, and trying to break down the wall of a woman like her won’t be easy. Hell, I’ve barely dated in the past seventeen years, focusing on being a single dad, so I’m no expert on women, and I’ll probably fail miserably. But there’s just something about her that I’m drawn to, making me want to try.
It’s obvious from my two short encounters with her that she doesn’t smile often, but when she does, it’s worth the effort. Watching her laugh at my expense made me want to make her do it again. And when she frowned, I wanted to ask what had caused it.
I want to spend time with Kinsley, but instead of breaking down her walls, I want her to open the gate for me. I want her to let me in and show me every part of her. For the first time in a long time, I want to get to know a woman on a deeper level.
Why was she terrified of being brought to the hospital? What happened to make her emotionally unavailable? Why is it that even when she smiled at me for a brief moment a few minutes ago, she still looked like she was in pain?
“Is there something else you need?” Lachlan asks, shaking me from my thoughts and reminding me that I’m still standing in the doorway like a weirdo, thinking about his daughter.
“Actually, yeah,” I say, turning around and walking back up to the desk. “I’d like to make an appointment to get a tattoo … with Kinsley.”
Scott tries to hide his smile, but Lachlan doesn’t even attempt to hide his smirk.
“You ever been inked before?” Lachlan asks, eyeing me skeptically.
“No,” I admit. “Any tips?”
“Don’t cry,” Lachlan says, making Scott laugh.
“Kinsley’s pretty booked up,” Scott says.
“Let me see.” Lachlan grabs the iPad and clicks around for a minute and then says, “I can get you in tomorrow at ten,” making Scott throw his head back with a laugh.
Shit, that’s soon. But fuck it. What’s a little tattoo? I’ll just get it somewhere hidden, and it will give me a chance to convince Kinsley to go out with me.
“Sounds good,” I say. “I’ll be here tomorrow at ten.”