Chapter One
Tymber shook Alan’shand at the end of the meeting. “Thanks for coming and talking tonight,” Alan said.
“No thanks needed, man. You and I both know I owe you and this place my sanity. I”ll do it if I can give even a small amount back.” He grinned at the raised brow his friend gave him. Sure, back when he’d first begun coming to the meetings, he’d only done it to make his sisters happy. Of course, he’d found it easy to pick up women, and then he’d found a little peace in the place—a win-win for a man who hadn’t had much to look forward to back then. Coming up on his five-year cancer-free date, he felt a little bit of everything. One of them being the need to celebrate.
He saw a slim form pass by the open door. Her dark hair shone in the hallway, catching his attention with how it swayed back and forth. He was sure he’d seen her walk past several times before. He made excuses and went to see if he could find the beauty, coming to a hard stop outside the door. His brows pulled down into a frown as he watched her stand on her tiptoes outside one of the meeting rooms. Although he’d used the meetings in the beginning as his own personal pickup place, ‘cause seriously, he was a guy who had issues five years ago. Cancer being the biggest one, losing his hair wasn’t much of an issue, but undergoing a mastectomy seriously fucked with his head. He became a dick and used the meetings as his personal playground. Hell, the women there had been easy pickings, and he’d been just the dickhead to take advantage. Now, though, he didn’t like the idea of anyone coming around to spy.
“Think she’s lost?” Alan murmured.
“No clue, but I’m about to find out.” The woman in question wore black combat boots, giving her a couple of inches in height, but he could see she was a petite little thing. However, the window was still too high for her to see through without jumping. Tymber didn’t think she’d be the type of woman to do such a thing, but he’d been surprised before.
“Isn’t that the suicide meeting?”
He glanced back at Alan, giving him a look that said shut the hell up, just as their friend Aubrey strolled out of the back room. “Hey, who’re we spying on?” she whispered.
Tymber tipped his head toward the ceiling and stepped back into the room. She was one of the only ladies he considered a friend and wasn’t one with benefits. Again, he was that guy before his diagnosis. Of course, she’d been pregnant when they’d first met five years ago and bent on keeping her child even if it had meant her life. Today, she’s a mother to a four-year-old. She upped her crazy by naming Tymber as one of the kid’s godfathers. Like him, she was in remission and thriving. He’d told her she had to live, or he’d have her kid tatted up by fifteen. “Aubs, you need a filter.”
“So says the manwhore. Go see if she needs help getting into the meeting, Tymber,” Aubrey gave him a shove.
“Fuck, Aubrey, you can’t make someone go to a meeting if they don’t want to. Why don’t you two go home, and I’ll chat with her? Maybe she’s just lost.” He winked at the two people who were the complete opposite of him yet were two of his closest friends, next to Ember and Lincoln at Twisted Ink, the tattoo shop they owned together. “I’ll see if I can’t help her.”
“She doesn’t need your D to convince her not to end her life, Tymber,” she whispered.
Tymber rolled his eyes. “Did I say she did? What, do you need the D, Aubs? Not mine since that is off the table and all, what with you being like my sister and everything.” He grinned at the dirty look she shot him while flipping the bird.
“Just don’t be an ass, Tymber Black,” she warned.
It was his turn to flip her the bird as he waited for Alan and Aubrey to leave. He was glad to see the two of them together and happy. Aubrey’s fiancé had left her as soon as he’d heard she was pregnant, and then after the baby was born, he signed his rights away. If there was a man that was a dick, it was that jackass. And, of course, other men like him.
Walking out the door, he made his way toward the mystery woman, wondering what would make a beauty like her want to kill herself. Her outfit screamed zero fucks given, but it clearly cost a lot of money. He was the only boy of four and knew enough to spot name brands. Harley Davidson clothes were sexy as fuck but weren’t cheap. Paired with the leather mini skirt, the dollar signs were adding up. The slim, sexy legs he could imagine wrapped around his waist or neck...he indeed was an equal opportunity guy, looked as though she worked out.
“You going to stand there all night and eye fuck me, or move on?”
Tymber raised his gaze, startled to see bright green eyes glaring back at him. She had shiny black hair, green eyes, and porcelain skin. Black Irish, his mama would’ve called her. Damn, he bet she had a fiery temper too. “Sorry, I was trying to get the nerve up to speak to you,” he lied.
She fell back onto her feet, no longer standing on the tips of her boots. The leather made a creaking noise in the silence of the hall. “Uh-huh, and you thought my ass had all the answers?”
A grin split his lips. “Sugar, many a fine ladies’ asses have left me speechless, yet none have given me answers. Does your ass talk?”
It was her turn to grin. “Well, I’m told when I walk away, men’s tongues tend to wag. Does that count?”
He stepped closer, keeping his hands in his pockets, not wanting to appear threatening. Damn, she smelled fucking amazing. “I’d ask for a demonstration, but I find myself not wanting you to leave.”
She snorted. “Good line, lumberjack.”
Tymber startled at the name. “What?”
“The flannel and work boots. Hence lumberjack. Although I do have to say California is a far cry from the woods.” Her hand went up and down as she spoke, outlining his frame and indicating his attire.
He thought about her words, then nodded. “So, going by clothing choice, you’d be a goth girl. Oh, we are a pair. The lumberjack and goth girl. Surely those are superhero names or should be.”
She laughed, then bit her lip. “I...this is odd.”
He moved across the hallway, giving her space when he sensed she needed it. He leaned against the wall, raising one leg, resting his foot on the wall, then crossed his arms. “Nah, not odd. Ant-Man was odd,” he said when the silence stretched too long.
Finally, she nodded. “You’re right; that could work. Our superhero names,” she agreed. “What would be our superpower?” she mimicked his pose.
Running his hand down his short beard a couple of times, he tapped his chin as he thought. “Superman has several powers, but his disguise was fucking lame as shit. I’m gonna go with Iron Man.”
“I didn’t ask which superhero. I said what superpower,” she laughed.
Her laugh was deep, making him think of smooth whiskey.
“Yeah, but after giving it some thought, I decided a complete takeover was due,” he argued.
Again, her husky laugh filled the hallway. “You’re a rule breaker, aren’t you?”
Tymber shrugged. “Only when the rules are stupid. Now, before you get your panties in a twist, I’m not saying your rules were stupid.”
When she held her hand up and gifted him with another laugh, he swore he’d do almost anything to hear it again and again. “First of all, I didn’t give a rule. Second of all, I don’t have any panties on.” Her cheeks turned a delicate pink, but she didn’t break eye contact.
Oh, he liked her sass. Now, he just needed to convince her to go to the suicide help meeting, or maybe he could help her. He knew all about thinking life was over. Five years ago, he was sure his time was up. He’d never heard of a man getting breast cancer. For fuckssake, he didn’t have tits like a woman. Sure, he had pecs. Hell, he worked out and had muscles, but not huge man boobs. He had a nice six-pack and felt he was good to go. No, he wouldn’t win any bodybuilding competitions, but he didn’t give a shit about them. He’d had women say they could wash their tongues on his abs...and he’d let them. Ahh, the good old days.
“Hey, you okay?”
Shit, he needed to keep his head on straight.
“My name’s Tymber Black, by the way,” he blurted.
Big green eyes widened. “Oh, um, I’m Ivy.”
He moved off the wall, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Ivy. Would you like to go grab a cup of coffee and discuss our superhero status further?”
Wariness filled her gaze. “Is that a euphemism for let’s go have sex?”
Her pale hand trembled in his large one. “Sugar, when we have sex, there will be no euphemisms. I’m not one to worry about being too harsh or blunt. If I have something to say or feel something I need to speak on, I say it. Life is too short to play those types of games.”
IVY LOOKED DOWN ATtheir clasped hands. His tan, rough, work-hardened ones had tattoos on them. They seemed so different to hers. Oh, not that she didn’t associate with men with similar-looking hands, far from it. Most of the men she knew had plenty of tattoos; only they were big, badass men who gave no quarter. She shook her head, clearing it of thoughts of anyone but the gorgeous man in front of her. “Alright,” she said before she could stop herself. “Coffee sounds great.”
He laughed; the rich sound made butterflies dance in her stomach. “There’s a great little place around the corner called The Brew and Sip.”
She knew it was probably a bad idea. Probably on the top of her ten worst, but she nodded her agreement. Her hand still clasped in his felt right, which was one hundred percent stupid, so she pulled away. “I’ll meet you there,” she stuttered, hating how unsure she sounded. Goddamn, where had the cocky girl gone?
“You going to drive around the block? Come on, Ivy Irish, live a little,” he implored, smiling, showing a dimple on his right cheek. Tymber reached for her hand again, his touch gentle like he was used to wary women. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Her heart lurched at those words. The same ones she’d heard dozens of times, only to be shunned. With a force of will that her mama said she came out of her womb with, she pasted on a smile and squeezed his hand before breathing deeply. “Lead the way, lumberjack.”
“You know, that nickname kinda turns me on.” He winked. Before she could respond, he began pulling her back down the hall, away from the door she didn’t have the guts to walk through. Next time, she promised herself.