12. Sam
12
SAM
“She’s coming here tonight ?”
I glare at Hugo, my arms crossed as I stand in the middle of the shop. He’s perched on the edge of the counter, completely unbothered by my tone, sipping a cup of coffee like we’re discussing the weather.
It’s infuriating. I hate when he does this, and he knows it. The cool, calm, and collected thing he does whenever he knows he’s being an impossible ass, and I’m the one being a responsible adult. One of us has to be.
“Relax, Sam,” he says, smirking over the rim of his mug. “She wants to come here. I didn’t exactly need to twist her arm.”
“That’s not the point,” I snap. “You put the idea in her head. You know how young she is—she doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.”
Hugo raises an eyebrow. “She’s twenty-six. Not a kid anymore. Or have you been too busy pretending not to notice?”
The jab lands harder than I want to admit, and I clench my jaw, turning away so he doesn’t see the way my hands are tightening into fists. It’s not like I don’t know how old she is. It’s not like I don’t feel the age gap every time I look at her, every time I hear her laugh or see her blush.
She’s twenty-six. She should be dating someone her age. Someone like…I dunno, someone younger than me. With Marie back in town and looking the way she does, I wouldn’t be surprised if guys her age are sniffing around again.
“She’ll be here soon, I would imagine,” Hugo says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Might want to clean up your station. Just in case.”
I shoot him a sharp look. “Why? You think she’s actually going to go through with this?”
Hugo shrugs, his smirk widening. “I don’t think she’d come here just to hang out. Do you? I asked for a show. If she comes here tonight, I expect that’s what we’ll get.”
I don’t answer. I can’t. Because the truth is, I don’t know what to say. Instead of speaking, I clean. It’s the only way to burn off my energy right now. By the time Marie walks through the door, my stomach is in knots.
I hear the bell jingle, and when I look up, there she is—standing in the doorway, looking nervous and determined all at once. She’s wearing one of her little sundresses, her hair falling loosely over her shoulders, and the sight of her steals the air from my lungs.
“Hey,” she says softly, glancing around the shop like she’s not sure where to look. “Is it okay that I’m here?”
Before I can respond, Hugo beats me to it. “Of course it’s okay,” he says, grinning as he leans casually against the counter. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Marie’s cheeks turn pink, and I bite back the urge to tell Hugo to knock it off.
“I, um…” She hesitates, fiddling with the strap of her bag. “I was thinking about getting a tattoo.”
That catches me off guard. “A tattoo?”
She nods, her eyes darting to mine. “Yeah. A black cat. Small, nothing too crazy.”
I stare at her, my mind racing for several reasons. One, I can’t figure out why she would want a black cat tattoo—that’s not exactly her vibe. Two, just seeing her walk into the shop made my breath catch in my chest, and I don’t know how to stop that from happening. And three, Hugo’s words are lodged deep in my brain.
A show.
Not a tattoo.
Worse is the way she’s been looking at us lately, like she doesn’t quite know how to act around us anymore. Like something has shifted between her and the three of us.
Thanks to Trick and Hugo, it has. I hate this so much.
Since she came back to town, things have been fine. Marie returned with the kind of elegant grace that makes me forget what I’m saying. The sort of woman who should be on the arm of a big city doctor, a pampered princess eating bonbons and having affairs with the gardener. Instead, she got a job across the street and moved back home with Preacher.
It should be great—she’s where I can watch out for her at the library, where nothing bad can happen to her worse than a paper cut. But something bad did happen to her, and everything has been out of whack ever since, thanks to that asshole Crow and my asshole best friends, both of whom have apparently decided it’s open season on the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.
Before all of this, I knew where the lines were drawn. I like lines. Lines keep people safe, they keep them…well, in line . I don’t tend to cross lines unless absolutely needed.
And I need her absolutely.
“Do you want me to do it?” I ask, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
Marie blinks, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. “I—I mean, if you want to. If you’re not busy. I’d like that.”
Something about the way she says it—so shy, so soft—makes my chest tighten. “Alright,” I say, my voice steady even though my heart is pounding. “Let’s do it.”
It’s not quite the same thing as a show, but tattooing her is almost as good, and I can live with that. It’s safer for everyone involved. Preacher won’t like that she’s getting inked, but he’d take that over anything else I want to do to his little girl.
I move to start setting up my station, but before I can, Trick opens his mouth. “Wow, Marie. You sure about letting Sam here do your first tattoo? I mean, I’m not saying he’s bad, but?—”
“Trick,” I say sharply, shooting him a glare that stops him mid-sentence.
He smirks, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll shut up.”
I turn back to my station, forcing myself to focus as I lay out the equipment. But my hands feel clumsy, my thoughts too tangled to concentrate. She wants me to do it. I can’t decide if that makes this better or worse.
Just as I’m finishing the setup, the bell over the door jingles again, and I glance up to see Danny Brooker and his friends walking in.
Great. Just what this situation needed.
Danny’s always had this way of walking into a room like he owns the place, and tonight is no exception. He’s Marie’s age, but everyone knows him, the pompous prick. His daddy owns several car lots around the parish, and a few outside of it. He’s grinning the kind of grin money can buy, and I’d like to help him lose a few teeth to give it some character. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket as he saunters toward the counter.
“Hey, Sam,” he says, his tone just a little too casual, like I’m the help . “Got time to squeeze us in?”
I glance at his friends—four guys, all about his age, all wearing the same cocky expression. “We’re fully booked for the night,” I say flatly. “But we can schedule something for tomorrow.”
Danny’s grin falters, just slightly. “Come on, man. It’s five of us. That’s good money, right?”
I cross my arms over my chest, standing firm. “Like I said, we’re booked. If you want to schedule something, I’d be happy to?—”
“Marie?” Danny’s eyes light up when he spots her sitting in the corner, and my jaw tightens as he heads straight for her. “Marie Durand,” he says, his grin widening. “Long time no see.”
Marie looks up, her expression polite but distant. “Hi, Danny.”
“Didn’t think I’d see you hanging around a place like this,” he says, leaning against the wall beside her. “I haven’t seen you around much. How’ve you been?”
“Fine.”
“Yeah, you always were,” he says as he looks her over. His buddies nudge each other, grinning like idiots. They’re enjoying the show. The kid flashes a smart-ass grin at them, then to her, and he asks, “What’re you doing later?”
“Going home.” She glances away. Not to me or my guys for help, but definitely to avoid eye contact with Danny.
This isn’t physical, so I’m not jumping in. She can handle her own battles when it comes to a putz like Danny Brooker. But if he steps out of line, I’ll be happy to shove it up his ass.
“What brings you here?”
Her tone has gone from cool to frosty. “It’s a tattoo shop, Danny. I’m getting a tattoo.”
I love that she’s got some spunk to her.
Danny raises an eyebrow, glancing at me. “Sam’s doing it?”
She nods.
“Well, good for you,” Danny says, his voice dripping with fake charm. “You always did like to surprise people.” He braces on the wall next to her, too close to her for my liking. “Bet I could surprise you all night.”
Before I can step in, Trick moves to her side, casually draping an arm around her shoulders. She doesn’t pull away. In fact, she leans into him. “She’s already chock-full of surprises, Danny boy,” Trick says with a grin, his voice light but his eyes sharp as they lock on the kid. “Don’t think she needs anymore.”
The kid stiffens, his bravado slipping, and I take the opportunity to step forward.
“Danny. If you want to book an appointment, we can set that up now. Otherwise, we’re closing up after this.”
He hesitates, glancing between me, Trick, and Marie, before finally nodding. “Fine. Tomorrow works.”
I schedule the appointment quickly, making a point not to look at him more than I have to. As soon as I’m done, I walk them to the door and lock it behind them. The tension in my chest eases as soon as they’re gone, but the jealousy lingers, bitter and uncomfortable.
She’s too young for me. Too sweet. Too perfect. But God help me, I want her anyway.