Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nic hadn’t thought they’d be back. Working only two days per week in the shop, he definitely hadn’t expected to see the two gingers this soon.
The taller one was smoking hot. She was fair and fit, and after it clicked that she was Mount’s sister-in-law, he understood the description he’d been given. A showstopping pair of redheads.
The shorter one definitely had an attitude, but the taller one … she seemed too prim and proper to be in a tattoo shop.
The shop girl was gone to grab coffees, which left him and Jerome—the flash dude who took the afternoon walk-ins—to greet the customers until she returned. Everyone else was off today.
“What up, ladies? You looking to get inked?” Jerome called out after lifting his machine off the dude getting a Geaux Tigers tattoo.
Nic was even more surprised when the taller one answered, “Only if you have time. Otherwise, we will definitely make an appointment.”
They’d left in a hurry last time, after he gave them Leo’s number.
She was looking directly at Jerome, trying to ignore him.
Damn, she’s beautiful.
“Hey, let’s take five,” Nic said to Joe, his client for the day, who was lying face down on the table. “I need to stretch and grab a drink.”
“Fuck yeah. I thought you’d never take a break, man.”
He chuckled. “Cool. One sec,” he said as he wiped off the ink. “Let me put something on this.” He swiped ointment over the fresh work. “You can get up. Easy does it though.”
Nic peeled off his gloves and dropped them in the trash before coming out into the reception area. The taller redhead’s eyes got wider as he came toward her.
“Hey. You get what you needed?”
The shorter one opened her mouth to talk, but Big Sister beat her to it. “You watched us last night. You were upstairs.”
He glanced at Jerome before looking back at her. “Yeah.”
“Where is the other guy? Who is he?” the shorter one asked. “You’re Niquaise, right?”
He choked out a laugh. “Someone did some internet searching. I’m Nic. Nice to meet you officially.”
“You do tattoos.” This came from the smoking hot one.
“Yeah. Couple of days a week.”
“Who was your friend?” her sister asked again. “We need to talk to him.”
“You got his number,” Nic replied. “If he answers, talk.”
“He didn’t.”
“Then leave a message.”
“His voicemail was full.”
“Then I guess … keep trying?”
“We need to know if—”
He held up a hand. “You want art, I’m your guy. Anything else, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I don’t know shit about fuck, okay?”
Big Sister’s gaze pinned him. “Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”
“What’s your name?” he asked.
She paused, as if she was considering not giving it to him. And then she said, “Imogen.”
“Nice to meet you, Imogen. Want to have dinner with me tonight?”
“She’d love to,” Little Sister replied. “She hasn’t been on a date in eight million—”
“Jury …” Imogen’s tone was quiet but carried all the meaning in the world.
“Yeah, so she says yes,” Little Sister finished.
He met Imogen’s brown eyes. “I’d rather hear it from you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m curious.”
“About what?”
“Why such a beautiful woman hasn’t had a date in eight million …” He trailed off.
He figured she’d turn him down, and it wouldn’t be a big deal if she did.
But when she opened her full pink lips and said, “Okay,” he was shocked.
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven. Where at?”
“I can meet you.”
“I was raised better than that. I’ll pick you up.”
“NOPSI Hotel.”
“Perfect. I’ll get you at seven.”
She breathed deep, and he wondered if she was questioning what she’d done.
“Now, about that ink. Don’t get a stupid tattoo. It’s way worse than none at all.”
Her lips opened into an O.
“Jury really wants memorial tattoos. For our sister.”
He nodded. “I get it. But let me draw something. We’ll talk about it at dinner. Cool?”
Little Sister’s twin brown eyes were sparkling. “Super cool,” she replied.
Nic took it as assent from both of them. “I’ll walk you out to your car. Can’t be too careful around here. Even this time of day.”
Jerome shot him a look that told him he was acting out of character as he ushered them toward the door.
Yeah, dude. That’s what a hot ginger will do to you.
He didn’t do memorial tattoos for walk-ins. He was booked two years out on big pieces of stunning artwork. If he opened his books further, he’d be booked even further, which he did not want. Two years was far enough.
“So, Nic, you own that badass house in the Quarter, right? Fancy,” Jury said.
“Inherited it.”
“Ahhh. Who’s the sexy lion guy?”
Nic coughed as they hit the crosswalk. “Lion guy?”
“You know him, clearly. He was at your house last night.”
He’d never heard Leo described quite that way before. Ironic.
“If he wanted you to know his name, he would’ve told you himself.”
Jury side-eyed him. “For real? You’re not going to tell us?”
“Some things aren’t mine to tell.”
He wondered what Big Sister was making of this, but he figured if she didn’t like what he had to say when he told the truth, that would be her choice.
“Is he like Mount? The type that stays out of the spotlight and sticks to the shadows?” Jury asked.
“I don’t think there will ever be another one like Mount.”
One corner of Imogen’s mouth curled up in a smile. “Jury, he told you what he was willing to tell you. Just leave it alone for now, okay?”
“How are we supposed to know if there’s another key for Mom and Dad?”
Nic had heard about the infamous keys from Leo, which was why he’d been on the lookout for these two as a long-shot favor.
As part of Mount’s passing, he’d doled out his fortune in creative style, and Leo was playing a big role in executing the ingenious plan.
Apparently, someone had thought Little Sister might show up for a tattoo while she was in town for the funeral.
“If there’s something for them, they’ll get it,” Nic replied. “You don’t need to worry about anything.”
Both sisters looked at him.
“You’re sure?” Jury asked.
“Positive.”
“See, Jur. Let’s just be grateful they found us.”
And grateful Nic was. Even more so that they’d come back.
Imogen was beautiful, and there was something unique about her.
And he couldn’t say he wasn’t a bit curious about what it was that had drawn the infamous Lachlan Mount to their sister.
From what he’d heard, the man had been infatuated when he married her, and from all accounts, he’d doted on her and their daughter.
“That’s us. The white 4Runner.”
He took a look at her jacked-up rig with its bronze wheels and roof rack. “Are you the adventurous type, or is the rig the adventure?”
“I’m a research scuba diver. I live on Grand Island. So, yeah, I guess adventurous works. Thank you for walking us out.”
“My pleasure. I’ll pick you up at seven at NOPSI. Ever been to Brennan’s?”
Her eyebrows winged upward. “Kinda fancy, isn’t it?”
“You look like the type who could appreciate fancy.”
Jury cleared her throat.
Imogen answered quickly, “Perfect.”
“Good. See you at seven.”