2. Ember
EMBER
Breaking off the death glare I’m sending Griffin’s way, I give the shop a final scan to make sure everything’s under control before I head out for my lunch date with Perry. Zeb’s headed this way, and I suppress an involuntary shiver of attraction as his long, lean form comes toward me, as sinuous as a cat.
Yummy. Sizzling, in fact.
Why are all of the tattoo artists so ridiculously hot?
I love my job, but the amount of inked-up eye candy in this place is off the charts, and I can't get involved with coworkers.
Not that I would. I'm pretty good at ignoring my hormonal urges, and I date with my future in mind, which means business-minded types.
Zeb crosses over to Frank’s station and my eyes follow. Frank’s busy with a client, but even viewing his handsome profile is enough to give me feelings in inconvenient parts of my anatomy.
Shoving those feelings into my Sexy Stronghold lockbox, I slam the lid closed, triple padlock it, and hurry out the door with Perry.
“And if things continue as they are, I’ll be on track for a record quarter. Last year closed out really strong, as well.”
I break off a piece of roll and smear it with butter as I try to appear interested in Perry’s sales reports. His boastful story is a perfect example of why I schedule most of my dates for lunch rather than dinner.
I need to get back to work—long before midnight, despite Griffin’s joke—so there’s a time limit to how long I’ll need to listen to details about Perry’s tales of … oh god, I forget what it even is that he sells.
“After my results last year, my territory’s been expanded, and it’s opened up a whole new market for our textbooks, both print and digital, and?—”
Textbooks, that’s it. Perfectly admirable work, but apparently not very exciting. Not that I’m looking for excitement, but I would like someone who’s interesting, and not so full of himself.
“My boss says I’m in the running for salesman of the quarter. I’ve won before, of course, but I had to give the other guys a turn.”
I manage not to roll my eyes. Perry’s a nice enough man, boasting aside, if a bit too ordinary. Not that I want anyone extraordinary.
Like Griffin.
A spike of annoyance makes me want to scowl, and I focus on hiding the emotion, barely registering Perry’s saga of a business lunch he attended recently. Griffin is the last man I should be thinking about in connection with dating.
Not that he’s bad looking—not at all—but looks aren’t the most important thing. I want a man who’s career focused, like I am, without being a braggart about it.
Griffin never brags. He irritates me with his constant teasing, but every now and then, I get a glimpse of something far more serious beneath his playful demeanor. In those moments, it’s as if a mask falls away, and his eyes blaze with a hunger that shocks me.
And compels me.
Dragging my mind away from my entirely unsuitable coworker, I force myself to focus on Perry. He’s still going on about the business lunch, or maybe it’s a different one. I’ve barely spoken a handful of words since we sat down, mostly because he hasn’t given me an opening.
Twirling some pasta onto my fork, I take a bite and savor the delicate flavors. Perry did bring me to a steak place—coincidence, or did Griffin intimidate him that much? But I wasn’t in the mood for steak, so I’m glad they had other options.
Griffin doesn’t intimidate me. He’s definitely a prankster, like the time not long after I started working at Beasts Ink when he switched the times on two of the appointments I’d scheduled. I have a good memory, so it didn’t take me long to find the issue, but I was puzzled about how it happened until he came up to my desk with his impish grin and questioned me about the mixup. After that I started locking down my devices whenever I was away from the reception desk.
I admit I was startled by his size when I first met him. He looks like a mountain man, or should that be a mountain of a man? Nirvana t-shirt aside, he wouldn’t look out of place in a remote forest cabin, chopping wood for the fireplace with those massive muscles.
But unlike someone who would enjoy living in isolation, Griffin is loud and playful and frequently a pain in the ass. He’s maddening, but also so charming that I can never stay mad at him.
He’s attractive, too, with his strong features, thick, wavy red hair, and full beard. I've heard that some people don’t find redheads appealing, but they’ve apparently never seen Griffin.
Dammit! What is wrong with me? I have to stop thinking about him.
“... and then I closed three big sales in one day.”
Perry pauses expectantly, and I force a smile, then take a peek at my phone. “I’m sorry, I need to get back to work.”
“Oh, of course.” He looks disappointed. I hope I don’t look relieved.
The waiter’s already brought the check, so it’s not long before we’re parked near the Strip and Perry’s walking me back to the shop. He leans in when we reach the door, like he’s going to kiss me, but I turn my head away and make a show of rooting around in my purse for something.
“Thank you for lunch, Perry. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
Zeb and Griffin are watching me through the window, arms folded. They could be models in a Calvin Klein ad if they were in their underwear. Which is the absolute last thing I need to be thinking about.
Zeb looks low-key annoyed, which is his default expression. Griffin looks smug. They almost make me want to reconsider letting Perry kiss me. Almost.
Going inside, I scan the shop again. All the tattoo artists who should be here are present, and all the scheduled appointments have shown up. Satisfied that everything is running smoothly, I march past Griffin and Zeb to the reception desk and stow my purse in a drawer.
Since everything is under control for the moment, I pull out my personal tablet, the one I use for my classes, and open up one of my textbooks. I’m nearly done with my degree in business management, and then I’ll be wanting a job with more responsibility than the scheduling and light bookkeeping I do here.
One of the main reasons I took this job is that I’m allowed to use my downtime for studying. This is my final semester of college, and I’m looking forward to graduating. My bosses, Gage and Kai, are great, and I like working here, even if I’ve never truly felt like I fit in.
There are two other women here, but they’re tattoo artists, they work odd hours, and they’ve never been especially friendly to me. Griffin aside, the artists mostly keep to themselves, and some of them rarely speak—the biggest example being Frank, who seems to prefer grunts and growls over actual words.
I’m going to have culture shock when I work in a corporate office.
A shadow falls across my tablet, and I look up to find Griffin back at my desk.
“You’re in trouble,” he taunts in a singsong way, reminding me of elementary school days, even though his deep voice is all man.
My brow knits. “What?”
“The bosses want to see you in their office right now.”
A wave of panic flutters through me, even though I know I haven’t done anything wrong. I tuck my tablet away, push in my chair, and head toward the hall at the back of the room, Griffin by my side. “Where are you going?”
His grin is wicked, his green eyes shining with their usual mischief. “I’m in trouble, too.”