Chapter 8
“We should get going,” he said, but he didn’t release me.
“Oh. Right.”
When I didn’t move, he tightened his arms, and his head descended again.
I met his mouth, hungry for something I couldn’t name. When Savage’s lips covered mine and his tongue was in my mouth, I ceased to think at all. All I could do was feel.
He makes me want to feel everything.
“Evie,” he growled against my mouth.
My hands slid up his back, underneath his leather cut. “Hmm?”
“Evie, we have to stop.”
His hands grasped my shoulders, and he gently pushed me away, keeping his hands on me.
My eyes fluttered open. “Why do we have to stop?”
Savage grinned down at me. “Because you have a job interview. And if I keep kissing you, it’s gonna lead to other things . . .”
“Oh,” I sighed dreamily.
He kissed my forehead, and let his lips linger. Eventually, he pulled back. “Get your jacket.”
I gathered my belongings and shrugged into my jacket. Savage went out into the hallway and waited as I locked up the apartment.
“Do you know who lives there?” I asked, pointing to the door across the hall.
“I do,” Savage said, allowing me to go ahead of him.
“What’s her name?” I asked as we headed down the stairs toward the lobby. “She left cookies on my doorstep yesterday, but she didn’t knock and introduce herself.”
“Cookies? I didn’t see any cookies on your counter.”
I blushed. “I ate them all.”
Savage let out a laugh, amusement coating his expression. “Love a woman with a healthy appetite.”
His innuendo was unmistakable, and it sent shivers of pleasure down my spine.
“Why didn’t you knock on her door and thank her for the cookies?”
“I don’t think she’s ready for social interaction. Otherwise, she’d have knocked first. So, I’m respecting her privacy.”
We made it to the lobby and Savage opened the front door of the apartment complex and I stepped outside. I followed him to his motorcycle.
“Her name is Cozy,” he said, handing me a bike helmet. “You know, shit’s not adding up for me.”
“About what?” I placed the helmet on my head and clipped it.
“You.”
“What about me?”
“All of it. You working at an illegal fighting ring, living at a motel by the highway, and now you won’t even introduce yourself to your neighbor. Something’s got you spooked. But I’m patient. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
My heart drummed in trepidation. Savage saw way more than I gave him credit for. “You? Patient? Oh, please. I don’t believe that for a second.”
“I can be patient,” he stated. “For you.”
He got onto his motorcycle, and I climbed on behind him. I pressed against him and wrapped my arms around his muscular body. Savage squeezed my thigh, and we were off.
My brain was buzzing from our kisses and conversation. I wished Savage was exactly as he appeared to be; nothing more than a rough and tough biker who wasn’t capable of seeing beneath the surface.
But he was so much more than that.
He couldn’t know about my past. He could never know about it.
He zagged down a street and eventually pulled into a parking lot and cut the engine. I looked at the sign on the building.
“Thanks for the ride. And for breakfast.”
And for the bone-melting kisses.
I swung my leg over his motorcycle and climbed off and then handed him the helmet.
He slid off his bike.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“Going inside with you.”
“But why?”
“So I can introduce you to Roman,” he said easily.
“But you already told him about me, didn’t you? You don’t need to tag along. I don’t need an emotional support human.”
“Chill. I have an appointment with Homer—Roman’s brother,” Savage said with a wry grin. “Two birds, one stone. Come on. You don’t want to be late for your interview.”
I hustled after him. He opened the door to the tattoo parlor and allowed me to enter first. I liked the space immediately. There were leather couches and chairs for customers, a coffee table with magazines to flip through, and the walls were decorated with photographs of finished custom artwork.
I began to relax.
But then two hulking giants appeared from the back hallway and terror filled my throat.
“Savage,” the dark-haired man greeted, holding his hand out to Savage.
Savage clasped his palm and gave it a shake. “Hey, Roman.”
Roman dropped Savage’s hand. He looked at me and flashed a grin. “You must be Evie.”
My voice was trapped in my throat, so I settled for a head nod.
“This is my brother, Homer,” Roman said, gesturing to the blond giant next to him. The man’s face was covered in a scowl, and I instantly took a step back, accidentally bumping into Savage.
“Don’t mind his expression,” Roman stated. “He’s a gentle giant.”
Homer turned his gaze toward his brother and gave him a glare.
Roman chuckled.
“You ready?” Homer asked, focusing his attention on Savage.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” Savage stepped away from me, leaving me cold and unsure. “I’ll be in the back.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
I watched Savage disappear down the hallway with Homer, leaving me alone with Roman.
“So, the job’s pretty easy,” he began. He waved me toward the reception counter. “My sister, Brielle, has been filling in for us. She’ll be in when we open to show you the appointment scheduling system. There’s a mini fridge behind the counter with sodas and we keep snacks in the back.”
Roman looked at me and frowned. “You okay?”
“Don’t you want—I mean, isn’t this an interview?” I asked.
“Yeah, it’s an interview.”
“But you’re talking like I have the job already.”
“You’re friends with Savage, yeah?”
I wouldn’t call us friends. Friends didn’t share steamy kisses in kitchens. Friends didn’t fall asleep in each other’s arms. I wasn’t sure what to call us, but Roman was waiting on an answer.
“Yeah, we’re friends,” I said finally.
“He vouched for you. You need a job, and we need a receptionist.”
“But your sister . . .”
“Has a job decorating wedding cakes. Her business partner is still on maternity leave, but Brielle is itching to get back to the bakery. So, we need a new receptionist as soon as possible. Job’s yours if you want it.”
“I want it,” I blurted out. “I’ll be a good receptionist, I promise.”
Roman smiled and the terror I’d felt melted away as I smiled back at him.
“Is there a dress code?” I asked, glancing down at what I was wearing.
“You’re dressed fine,” Roman assured me. “We’re a family run business; we don’t do anything formal. We’re open Wednesday to Sunday, noon to six. Sometimes we’ll book an appointment during off-business hours, but Brielle will give you the rundown on that. Sound okay?”
“It sounds great.”
Roman’s cell rang and he fished it out of his back pocket. He looked at the screen. “Sorry, I gotta take this.”
I nodded.
He pressed a button and put the phone to his ear. “Hey.” He wandered toward the hallway and disappeared. I heard a door shut and then the muted sound of his voice.
I went to the leather couch and took a seat. I was flipping through a motorcycle magazine when the front door opened.
A redhead carrying a bakery box blew into the tattoo parlor. She hoisted her bag onto the counter and set the box down. Her keys and phone followed, hitting the glass counter with a thunk .
She let out a labored sigh, her head swiveling to take in the room. She paused when she saw me.
“Hey,” she said with a wide smile as she approached me. “You must be Evie.”
I nodded.
“I’m Brielle,” she introduced.
“Nice to meet you,” I murmured.
“Have you met Roman yet? Did he give you the lay of the land?”
“Oh, he was starting to, but then he got a phone call.”
“Do you like donuts?”
“Donuts?”
She nodded. “Yeah, donuts. I brought a dozen from Pie in the Sky—the bakery where I’m a cake decorator. I had a meeting there this morning with Brooklyn and I almost never leave empty handed.”
Her exuberance and energy had my head spinning.
She didn’t wait for me to reply. She all but skipped back over to the counter to grab the box of donuts. She cut the string holding it closed, propped the lid open, and brought it over.
The scent of sugar and flour hit my nose and made my mouth water.
“I’m partial to the blueberry buttermilk,” she said, reaching in the box. “But you can’t go wrong with any of them.”
I was overwhelmed with choices. I decided on the glazed chocolate.
“Wait,” Brielle said. She set the box down on the coffee table and shoved the donut into her mouth as she walked behind the counter. She crouched down where I couldn’t see her, but then she called out, “We’ve got milk. You want some?”
“Sure,” I said, unable to stop the smile from blooming across my face. “You keep milk in the mini fridge?”
“Only since I started filling in,” she said as she returned with a sleeve of plastic cups and the carton of milk. “It’s become routine for me to bring some sort of baked good. It keeps them happy.”
“Noted.”
She poured a cup of milk and handed it to me.
“I’m not going to lie, I’m glad as hell you’re taking over. I’m getting squirrelly. I need to get back to my love of decorating wedding cakes.”
“Why haven’t you been doing that?” I inquired as I dunked my donut into the milk.
“Brooklyn’s been on maternity leave. So she scaled way back on the catering side of things. But she’s ready to get back to work.” She gestured to the donut. “Good, right?”
“Very good.”
“So, how did you meet Savage?” she asked.
“Excuse me?”
“How did you meet Savage?” she repeated. “Roman didn’t tell me. He just said a new girl Savage met was starting and that I’d need to train her.”
“Oh.” I frowned. Other than Savage telling me the illegal fighting ring was a secret; Savage and I had never actually discussed what to tell people about how we met. I also didn’t want anyone knowing that I’d been working there either.
Brielle’s blue eyes were stuck on me, avid with curiosity.
I settled for some version of the truth. “I met him at a taco truck.”
“A taco truck?”
I nodded.
“And you just casually mentioned you needed a job?” she asked in confusion.
“It came up in conversation.” I shrugged.
She looked like she was about to ask another question, but then a door opened and Roman entered the main room.
“Ah, fuck yeah,” Roman said, walking over to us and reaching into the box of donuts and pulling one out.
Brielle poured another cup of milk and handed it to Roman.
“Carton’s almost empty,” she said.
“Evie can run out and grab another,” Roman said.
I stood up. “I can do that. Just point me in the direction of the nearest grocery store and the bus stop.”
Brielle looked at me. “Bus stop? Is your car broken down or something?”
“I don’t have a car,” I explained.
Roman pulled a set of car keys from his pocket. “You can take mine.”
I stared at his outstretched hand but didn’t make a move to take the keys. I bit my lip before finally admitting, “I also don’t know how to drive.”
Roman and Brielle quickly exchanged a look.
“So, you’re taking the bus every day to work?” Brielle asked.
“I plan to. I mean, I didn’t this morning. Savage gave me a ride.”
“What did I do?” Savage asked, startling me as he swaggered back into the main room, eyebrows raised. “Ooo, is that a bear claw?”
“Yep.” Brielle lifted the box of donuts toward him.
“You gave me a ride,” I explained.
“Is he going to drive you here every morning?” Brielle asked.
“ No ,” I said at exactly the same time as Savage said, “ Yes .”
I glared at him.
Savage took a bite of the bear claw. After he swallowed, he said, “I don’t like you riding the bus.”
“That’s not your choice,” I stated.
Roman reached back into the box of donuts that were quickly disappearing.
“Save some for Homer and Virgil,” Brielle stated. “They’re going to want some.”
“But they’re not here,” Savage announced. “Homer left out the back. It’s just us.”
“See, I can eat their donuts if I want,” Roman stated and then took a comically large bite.
“Where did he go?” Brielle asked.
“And is he—is he coming back?” I questioned.
Roman patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t let Homer’s surly nature worry you. He’s a good guy, but?—”
“But he’s very much a crotchety old man,” Brielle said with a grin. “And it’s really fun to annoy him. I’ll teach you how to get under his skin. It’s easy.”
“I don’t want to get under his skin,” I protested. “I just want him not to hate me.”
“He won’t hate you,” Brielle promised.
“And if he gives you shit, you come to me. I’ll have a word with him.” Roman finished the rest of the donut.
I didn’t want Homer to give me attitude, and I didn’t want Roman to have to intercede on my behalf. I just wanted to do my job, make sure everyone was happy, and then go home at the end of my shift.
“Are you legally blind or something?” Brielle asked, her gaze turning to me.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“Are you legally blind? Is that why you don’t drive?”
“ Brielle ,” Roman warned.
“What?” Brielle looked at her brother and frowned. “If she works here, she has to know how we are.”
“How you are,” Roman stated. “Which is nosey and annoying. You don’t have to answer Brielle’s question, Evie.”
An awkward pall fell over the room.
“I need to get going,” Savage said. He looked at me. “Walk me out?”
With a frown, I nodded and followed him. The door to Three Kings closed behind us and we stood on the pavement in front of the parlor.
“So, I’m leaving,” Savage said unnecessarily.
I nodded.
“And you can call me if you need anything. I know you won’t, but if you change your mind and want a ride home, just give me a buzz about half an hour before the end of your shift and I’ll come and get you.”
“Why is it so important to you that I not take the bus?” I asked.
“Because I like looking out for you.” He shrugged. “And it’s no trouble. Really.”
A car pulled into the parking lot, momentarily distracting me from our conversation—a conversation that seemed to be about something neither of us wanted to actually talk about.
The driver’s side door to a vintage restored car opened and a dark-haired man climbed out. He swaggered to Savage and slapped him on the back in greeting.
“I didn’t know you were here,” the dark-haired man said.
“I had a meeting with Homer about a new tattoo. I’m leaving now. Meet Evie, your new receptionist.”
The man turned his attention to me and smiled, a wide, easy-going grin that immediately put me at ease. I smiled back.
“I’m Virgil. Nice to meet you, Evie.”
“You too,” I stated.
Virgil let out a laugh. “Man, I haven’t seen someone with hair that long in years. And it’s red. It’s like having a back-up Brielle.”
Virgil and I laughed, but Savage’s expression remained passive, except for the clenching of his jaw.
“Brielle brought donuts,” I said. “If you hurry, you might be able to get one. Roman might’ve eaten yours by now, though.”
“Shit, I better get in there.” He saluted Savage and then looked at me. “See you in a bit.”
The front door to the tattoo parlor opened and then closed, leaving Savage and I alone.
I was still smiling when I met Savage’s gaze. He didn’t look happy.
“Virgil’s a huge flirt,” he announced. “Don’t fall for his charm.”
Before I could reply, he turned and stalked toward his motorcycle.
The front door to Three Kings opened again behind me and Brielle popped her head out. “You ready for me to show you the lay of the land?”