Chapter 10
TEN
Shane
If someone had told me that Taylor’s and my weekly walk to the dog park would end with Kinsley in my house, chatting with my daughter about books while I cook dinner for the three of us, I would’ve laughed in their face and asked them what the hell they were smoking because there was no way Kinsley would go anywhere with me, let alone to my house.
Yet every time I walk from the back porch to the kitchen to grab something, I can hear Kinsley’s and Taylor’s laughter from the library that I built for Taylor.
Since it’s only the two of us in a three-bedroom house with a living room and den and I don’t need an office, I turned the den into a library as a surprise for her seventeenth birthday. The way she squealed and cried and hugged me, telling me I was the best dad ever, told me I’d picked the right gift for my book-obsessed daughter.
I set the plate of ribs on the table next to the grilled potatoes, veggies, and rolls, and then I head over to the library to let the girls know dinner’s ready. But as I’m walking toward the back of the house where the library is, my phone pings with an email.
When I click on my mailbox, it’s mostly spam, but my eye catches on an earlier email I must’ve missed from Exposed Ink. I click into it and read it twice, confused as to why my appointment has been canceled.
Since the only woman who can explain this is sitting in my house, I head straight back to ask her. I’m expecting to find her and my daughter, but only Kinsley is sitting in the middle of the room on the floor, looking through a paperback.
When she hears me enter, she looks up and smiles softly. “Taylor’s in the bathroom. She has quite the collection.” Her eyes track the shelves filled with hundreds of books. “I told her she’ll have to come by my parents’ place one day. My mom has a library that could rival this one.”
“That would imply you’re planning to see my daughter again,” I say, stepping in front of Kinsley and then kneeling so I’m at her level.
“I …” She opens and closes her mouth. “If you don’t want me to?—”
“You’re more than welcome to see Taylor anytime you want. I guess I’m just confused since you canceled our appointment.”
I raise a brow, and she looks at me sheepishly.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I know it was unprofessional, but …” Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink, and she sniffles. “I don’t know what it is about you and your daughter, but you guys have this weird way of making me lower the wall I’ve worked so hard to build. I hadn’t told anyone about my daughter, other than my family, who already knew, yet you confided in me about your daughter, and in turn, I was word-vomiting all over you.”
I can’t help but smile at her words, which makes her glare.
“I love how you’re reveling in my misery,” she mutters.
“I’m not reveling in anything,” I say with a chuckle. “But you just admitted that even though you didn’t want to let me in, you did, which means there just might be hope for you yet.”
I’m only joking—sort of—but I know it’s the wrong thing to say when Kinsley frowns.
“Shane.” She sighs. “I canceled the appointment because, even though it’s obvious that you’re a good guy and you said you’re okay with just being friends, you also made it clear you’d still like more from me, and the truth is, I don’t have anything more to give you or anyone for that matter. I gave it all to my husband and unborn baby … and then they died.”
A single tear slides down her cheek, and I reach out and swipe it away with my thumb, hating to see her cry.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, palming the side of her face. “I hate that you went through something so devastating, and I won’t even pretend to know how you must feel because I’ve never experienced any type of loss that comes close to what you went through.”
“I did it,” she whispers. “I was driving. I’m the reason they’re dead.”
Oh shit. Now, her comment about killing her daughter makes sense. And not only did her daughter die, but so did her husband.
“If I hadn’t …” she chokes out, unable to finish her sentence.
Without thought, I drop to my knees and wrap my arms around her.
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “You don’t have to say anything.” I rub my hands up and down her back as she softly cries into my chest. “You went through something that no parent or spouse should ever have to go through, and the fact that you’re still getting up every day and functioning proves how damn strong you are.”
“I’m not?—”
“What’s going on?” Taylor says, cutting Kinsley off.
Reluctantly, I release Kinsley and stand. “Kinsley was just having a moment,” I tell her. “Why don’t we give her a second and you can help me get drinks? Dinner’s ready.”
Taylor glances at Kinsley with concern but says, “Okay, the bathroom is down the hall if you need to wash up.”
“Thank you,” Kinsley says, giving my daughter a watery smile. “I’ll meet you guys out there.”
“Is she okay?” Taylor whispers once we’re in the kitchen.
“I don’t want to tell her story, but she went through something horrific and is having a tough time getting through it.”
Taylor nods in understanding, then tells me she’ll be right back.
When she returns, she has a stack of books in her arms.
“These are for you,” she says when Kinsley walks out to join us. “They’re my go-to reads when I need to forget about everything and escape.”
Kinsley glances at me, then back at my daughter.
“Dad didn’t tell me your business. He wouldn’t do that, but he said you went through something horrible. I read these books last year when I caught my ex cheating on me because I wouldn’t put out, and I swear they helped me forget all about his lying, cheating behind.”
I already know what happened since my daughter and I talk about most things, but the amount of pride I feel from hearing her speak like that never gets old.
Kinsley cracks a smile and then hugs Taylor. “Thank you,” she murmurs. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”
“Of course! We’re officially book friends, and that’s what book friends do for each other.” Taylor grins. “I’m going to grab a water. Do you want one?”
“That would be great,” Kinsley tells her.
Once Taylor is gone, Kinsley says, “You have an amazing daughter.”
“What can I say?” I smirk, hoping to lighten the mood. “She gets it from her dad.”
* * *
“Welcome to—oh, it’s you,” Scott says with a laugh. “I wasn’t aware you had an appointment today.”
“He doesn’t,” Taylor says, practically bouncing into the shop. “My friend and I do.”
“Oh, yeah?” Scott says. “Did you find something better than a unicorn to get tattooed?” he asks Casey, who rolls her eyes.
“They’re getting piercings,” Kinsley says, walking out and joining Scott at the front desk.
“Kinsley!” Taylor rushes over and hugs her. “Tell my dad that since I’m here, he should let me get my tongue pierced as well.”
I shake my head, and Kinsley laughs. “How about we start with one piercing, and if it goes well, we can talk about doing another one?”
“Fine.” Taylor sighs. “I’m going first,” she says to Casey. “I can’t watch it happen. I’ll freak out. I need to just get it done.”
After I sign the consent form, the girls head back with Kinsley. The room isn’t big, and I figure they’ll have more fun with it just being the girls.
While I’m waiting for them to get done, Lachlan appears from his room, his gaze locking on me. “Shane,” he says, walking over and shaking my hand. “Good to see you back.”
“I’m actually not here for me. My daughter and her friend are getting their noses pierced. My appointment is on Friday.”
Lachlan smirks. “At this rate, you’re going to end up inking your entire body in hopes of getting a single date with my daughter.”
Scott laughs, and I shrug because what the hell do I say to that? He’s not entirely wrong. I might be on board with getting the sleeve now, but it did start as a way to spend time with Kinsley.
“It’ll be worth it,” I tell him. “Besides, she’s damn talented, so it’s not exactly a hardship, having her ink me.”
Lachlan nods. “I get it,” he says, squeezing my shoulder. “I would’ve done anything for her mom to give me a chance. Hell, in the early stages, I pretty much did.”
“And I’m assuming it worked out …”
“Yeah, it did,” he says, smiling fondly. “We’ve been together for twenty-five years, we share three kids, and I couldn’t imagine my life without her.” He glances down the hall. “But if something happened to her, I don’t even know how I’d move on.”
Ah, so he’s trying to feed me details without breaking Kinsley’s trust.
“I know,” I tell him. “And while I can’t relate since I’ve never lost anyone, I get why she’s so hesitant to put herself back out there.”
“She told you?” Lachlan says, shock evident in his tone.
“I don’t know all the details, but she told me the basics, and I hate that she blames herself. I barely know her, and even I know she would never purposely hurt anyone. Hell, the last place she wanted to go was to my house, but all it took was my daughter giving her, her signature puppy-dog eyes, and Kinsley caved.”
“So, why do you keep coming back?” Lachlan asks. “If you know she doesn’t want to be around you …”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I say with a laugh. “I can see the attraction and curiosity when she looks at me. But she’s been through something horrible. So, I took a step back and suggested we be friends.”
“And what if she never gives you the chance to take her out on a date?” Lachlan asks. “Will you be okay with that?”
“At this point, I just want to get to know her,” I tell him honestly. “The second I laid eyes on her, there was just something about her that pulled me in, and I wanted to know more about her. If all that comes out of it is a friendship, then I’m okay with that. But if she changes her mind and lets me take her out, I sure as hell won’t say no.”
Lachlan nods. “Well then, Shane, I wish you the best of luck.” He pats me on the back. “May the odds be ever in your favor.”
* * *
“What’s your favorite food?”
Kinsley looks up at me through her lashes and raises a brow. She’s been working on my tattoo for about a half hour, and every so often, I throw a question at her. The first few times, she answered without hesitation, but based on the look she’s giving me, I’m assuming she’s caught on to my sneaky way of getting to know her.
“Italian,” she says, going back to inking me.
“I take it, you’ve been to Mario’s?”
It’s the only decent Italian restaurant in town, aside from the takeout pizza place.
“I have,” she admits, her adorable nose scrunching up—an action I’ve learned she does when she’s not keen on whatever is being said. “But it’s got nothing on Antonio’s in Hell’s Kitchen.”
“You’re from the city?”
There’s only one Hell’s Kitchen that I know of, and it’s in New York City.
“Yep. Born and raised. I didn’t move here until …” She trails off and sighs, and I assume that’s the end of the conversation, that she’s once again slammed the proverbial gate closed to block me out, until she starts speaking again. “I moved here after Brandon and Brenna died.”
She’s never mentioned his name before, but I think it’s safe to assume Brandon was her husband who died, along with their daughter.
“And then opened this tattoo shop?” I ask, shifting the conversation so she won’t shut down. I’ve learned from our few conversations that if the topic isn’t regarding her past, Kinsley is more likely to let me in.
“My dad did,” she says. “He had enough of me moping around, and since there was no way that I was going back to work at Forbidden Ink …”
“That’s where you used to work,” I clarify, piecing her info together, “in the city?”
“Yeah, I practically grew up there. My uncles opened it and still own it. It’s where my dad met my mom, and … it’s where I met Brandon,” she says with a sad smile. “He apprenticed with my dad and was eventually hired full-time.”
“That’s cool. You both were tattoo artists. Did you guys ever fight over who was the better artist?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
This makes Kinsley laugh, and the way her face lights up has me wanting to pull out every joke I know so she’ll keep doing it. A sad Kinsley is tragically beautiful, but a happy Kinsley is downright breathtaking.
“No,” she scoffs playfully. “It wasn’t up for debate. I was the better artist.”
I chuckle at her cockiness. “I can’t even draw stick people. My daughter was a better drawer at four than I am as an adult,” I say, pointing at the tattoo right above the one she’s currently working on. “When we were forced to take art, I would have my friend do the assignments for me since he was artistically better than me.”
Kinsley laughs again. “I’ve never heard of anyone cheating in art class. But the truth is, I couldn’t really draw either when I was younger. I loved going to work with my dad, but I wasn’t naturally good at drawing. My parents signed me up for art classes, and my love for it made me want to practice until I was great at it.”
“I’d say it worked.” I glance down at the tattoo she’s currently doing. It’s another image Taylor drew—of the fire station I’ve worked at since she was born with me in my fire suit and her standing next to the fire truck. She used to love riding in it when she was younger.
“You’re extremely talented,” I say, my gaze moving from my arm to her.
“Thank you,” she mutters, a slight blush tingeing her cheeks.
“Taylor is creative,” I tell her. “But she loves digital design. It’s what she wants to go to school for.”
“What grade is she in?”
“She’s a junior. We’re going to start looking at colleges soon, but she has her heart set on NYU.”
“It’s a good school,” Kinsley says. “I went there.”
“Really? What did you go for?”
She stops inking me and sits back, taking her gloves off to give me a small break, something she does every so often. So, I reach behind me and pull out my box of Sour Patch Kids. I pop one into my mouth and then offer her one.
She glances at the box the same way she does every time I offer her some, but this time, she reaches in and grabs one, and I take that as a win.
“Art and business. I wanted to learn all aspects of art, and I always wanted to open my own shop. I probably could’ve done both without going to school, but I wanted the best chance at being successful.”
“Well, it looks like you did what you set out to do. This place is clearly a success.”
“Yeah,” she says with a soft smile, “it is.”
She pops the red Sour Patch Kid into her mouth, and her lips pucker at the sourness.
“Ugh. I forgot how sour these are,” she says, her face contorted in the cutest expression.
“Don’t worry,” I say with a laugh. “The sweetness that comes after is worth it.”