13. A League of Her Own
Chapter 13
A League of Her Own
Ori
S o much for champagne and chocolate.
What was supposed to be a quick dash into the store to check on the staff swiftly turned into an all hands on deck situation.
Seems we aren’t the only ones craving a bit of warmth. One More Page is hopping, with a steady line for both the register and the coffee bar. Plus, another dozen customers mill about the store’s interior, engaging in the age old pastime of browsing.
Is there anything better than scanning the shelves of books before settling into a leather-backed chair by the pot-bellied stove?
I mean, besides play time with Asher Hammond. Despite the hustle and bustle, my mind continues to wander to Mr. Tall, Dark & Infuriatingly Handsome. If Braden hadn’t interrupted us in the tent, would Ash have made good on his offer?
Better question is, would I have taken him up on said offer with a string of townsfolk within earshot ?
We all know the answer to that question. I have the backbone of a marshmallow where that man is concerned.
After ninety minutes, the hubbub settles down, and my stomach growls with an urgent plea. I need food and chocolate will not cut it at this point.
Maybe I should grab a slice of pizza. Hey, Ash offered me some earlier.
Besides, that keeps me close to the store in case anyone needs me.
It’s not like I’m desperate to see him or anything. Not at all.
But to get said pizza, I will have to wander back into Black Lotus’s tent.
Plus, I am moonlighting as Ash’s bodyguard, so regular check-ins are imperative to ensure the man’s well-being.
Nothing else to see here, folks.
As luck would have it, Ash is nowhere to be found, and neither is that now cold pizza. So, to avoid looking like I’m tracking him down, I whisper a silent plea to my stomach for a few minutes of cooperation and focus my attention on the tattoo portfolios sitting atop a long table.
I’ll give it to the men of Black Lotus. They are seriously talented artists. Each one possesses their own style, but the quality throughout is impeccable. My fingers drift over pictures of Ash’s work—large scale photorealistic portraits and landscapes with as much intricate detail as a photograph. Even when I lean close, examining the artwork, I fail to find one line or dot out of place.
They’re perfect, much like the man himself. Perfectly unattainable, at least.
“Looking for some ink? ”
I cut my gaze to Braden, who’s lounging in a chair at the far end of the table. “Just browsing.”
He waves me over, patting a chair next to him. “Come on, sit down.”
“Oh, I?—”
A smile cuts across Braden’s features as he holds up a paintbrush, pointing to a sign above the table offering custom body painting. “Don’t worry. It’s temporary.”
“No way. It’s far too cold to strip down for body painting.” I hug myself tight, earning a guffaw from Braden.
“How about your arm? Think you could bear baring it for me?”
His upbeat attitude is infectious, and I relent to his request, sinking into the empty chair. Pulling off my glove and shoving up my sleeve, I offer my arm up as Braden’s canvas.
Braden sets to work, opening a few paint colors before grasping my wrist to draw an outline of a lily on my forearm. He focuses on his craft, which allows me a few minutes to focus on him.
Like Ash, he’s also covered in colorful ink, with longish dark hair that always seems a bit tousled, and green eyes that are just a shade darker than his brother’s. A gorgeous specimen, to be sure, but without the cocky charisma that pulses through every cell of Asher Hammond. No, Braden is quieter, more subdued, and though admiring glances are often thrown his way, he’s not the kind of man who thrives on flirtation.
Too bad I have a ridiculous crush on the playboy half of the Hammond brothers, because Braden is undoubtedly the safer bet for my heart. But hearts don’t give a damn about safety nets or security. They leap headfirst into the abyss without bothering to check if there’s water in the pool.
That, and Braden belongs to Mina. Even if he doesn’t know it yet.
“Damn. You’re drawing that freehand? You’re good.”
Braden chuckles, his gaze focused downward. “I’ve always loved painting, but I’m nowhere near as talented as Ash.”
“That’s not true.”
Braden shrugs and dips his brush into a deep red. “Sadly, it is. His portraiture and realism skills are ridiculous. Did you check out his portfolio?”
“I did, along with yours. Don’t sell yourself short. That fox tattoo you created is stunning.”
He bites his lip, a soft smile on his mouth. “Thanks. One of my favorites, too. Ash has always pushed the envelope with ink. I stick to neo-traditional tattoos—animals, birds, flowers.”
“Good thing I like animals, birds and flowers.” I’m not sure why, but I feel the need to bolster Braden’s ego. Although I know he and Ash are close, I get the distinct impression he lives in Ash’s shadow.
How can he not? Ash is larger than life, both in reputation and ego. Just ask his fan club, which accepts countless new members daily.
Still, it’s obvious Braden is proud of his big brother and I know the feeling is mutual. I wish I had a sibling. It’s difficult growing up as an only child—there’s this invisible drive to be all things to all people and that is a recipe for disaster.
“Hey, I wanted to thank you. Ash told me you signed the revised lease. ”
“Happy to help. Really happy we’re not at war anymore.”
Braden nods and rolls his eyes, giving me a good-natured chuckle. “We’re all thankful for that.”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize the toll it took on everyone.”
Braden switches colors, highlighting the petals with a delicate pink. “Let’s put it this way. You two are far more fun to be around now.”
“When we’re not trying to kill each other, you mean?” I sniffle and rub my nose with my free hand, acutely aware of the falling temperature inside the tent. “You think we’ll get snow tonight? It smells like it.”
“Let’s hope not, because Ash rode in on his bike today. I’ve traveled on two wheels during a snowstorm, and I don’t recommend it.”
“Maybe you could give him a lift home, should he require it?”
He shoots me a sly look from under the brim of his baseball cap. “Maybe you could, since you two are friends now.”
Are we though? We’ve fucked. An epic fuck, to be sure, but it was a one-night stand. If my store wasn’t next door to Ash’s parlor, would I have ever seen him again? Better question, if I didn’t hold half the rights to the basement, would that one night together have happened in the first place?
I’m not one to ruminate on my decisions. A good time is a good time, and I’m far past the age of berating myself for caving to carnal pleasures. But what happens when you want more than one night?
“Ash has dreamed of opening a speakeasy in Sparkwood for years, and it’s the perfect spot for it,” Braden continues. “Trust me, he’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt your store in any way. He’ll take care of you.”
Good to know, although Braden’s definition of care no doubt differs from my own.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Braden and I snap our heads up in unison as Ash’s voice slices through our conversation, sharp and heated.
“She’s trying some ink on for size,” Braden replies with a shrug as he returns his attention to my skin, adding a few finishing touches to the leaves. “Ori has such pale skin, so the color pops.”
But instead of admiring the delicate flower decorating my forearm, Ash continues to glare holes into his brother.
Braden sets the brush to the side and shakes his head with a chuckle. He doesn’t bother to hide his amusement over Ash’s obvious annoyance.
Not that I’m entirely sure why Ash is so damn aggravated.
“That’ll do it,” Braden proclaims. “The ink stays on the skin for several days, but the more you wash the area, the faster it fades. I’m off to grab a drink. See you later, Ori.”
I trace a finger along my arm, careful not to smudge the still tacky ink. “Thanks for the lily.”
Ash sinks into his brother’s vacated chair and reaches for my arm, a grimace creasing his features. “At least it’s temporary.”
What an odd sentiment from a tattoo artist, especially when the design in question is high quality.
“Braden is very talented and I’ve considered getting a tattoo. This seems like a good spot for one and a flower is so delicate and feminine?—”
“No. ”
My eyes search out Ash’s, shocked by his forceful reply. “Excuse me?”
Ash shrugs, as if his demand is the most normal response in the world. “Some women are born to wear ink. Others aren’t.”
I stiffen at his insinuation, jerking my gaze to the floor as a surge of anger shoots through me. “And I’m the latter, I suppose.”
“Exactly.” He slides a finger beneath my chin, tipping my head up. “You’re perfect, just as you are. You don’t need any of this.”
What Asher Hammond doesn’t realize is he just gave me the greatest compliment of my life. I’ve always opted to blend into the background, seeking safety in the shadows. That a man like Ash, with throngs of women clamoring for his attention, considers me the ideal, is mind-boggling.
It’s also turned on a very different emotion—one that involves a dimly lit basement and our favorite couch.
A flush climbs my cheeks as his fingers make meandering circles along my inner wrist. “Can’t say that’s a very good business plan for the owner of a tattoo parlor.”
Ash grins, his sex on a stick dimple at the ready. “Maybe that’s because I want a different kind of business with you.”
Yes, please. In every language.
Okay, under normal circumstances, I would never ask a man out again when he’s already shot me down once, but this isn’t a normal situation.
There’s no way Ash doesn’t feel something for me, even if most of that feeling is below the waist.
Not after spouting that indescribably romantic line.
Ash grabs a gauze pad and piece of plastic film, placing it over my newly acquired skin art. “Don’t want it to smudge.”
“Yes, you do. You want it gone,” I tease.
He offers another shrug as he pulls my sleeve down to cover my arm. “Braden is right. The ink really pops on your fair skin.”
“Does that mean you’ve adopted a new stance on me and tattoos?”
“Not at all.”
I lean my arms on the table and suck in a deep breath, fully prepared to make a fool of myself again. “Think I can steal you away for a minute?”
Ash matches my posture, our faces mere inches apart. “What do you have in mind?”
“Food.”
“Damn, I thought you had a different idea entirely.” He leans back against his chair and strokes a hand along his jaw. “I just got back from that wine bar you mentioned, but I’ll go again.”
A furrow creases my brow. “You already went?”
Maybe he went looking for me, since I’d mentioned I would be there.
Ash nods, averting his gaze. “Yeah. Raven was hungry, so I took her to grab a bite. No alcohol, for obvious reasons, but they had all sorts of food. Brilliant suggestion.”
Or maybe I never even crossed his mind. Instead, he used my recommendation as a pseudo date with another woman.
Just like that, his earlier compliment fades into the ether, leaving nothing but a gnawing jealousy in the pit of my stomach.
I don’t bother asking which woman out of the many meandering about the area is Raven. What’s the point? Bruise my ego a bit more this afternoon?
I clear my throat and slide on my gloves. “Glad to hear it was good, although I’m past the point of chocolate curing what ails me. I need something more substantial.”
Ash motions over his shoulder toward Black Lotus. “There’s plenty of pizza left.”
Which sounds as appetizing as being Ash’s second run to the wine bar. “Hmm. Cold pizza or hot soup. Tough decision.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Mental note: woman hates pizza.”
I wag a finger at him before standing. “No, no, no. I adore pizza and I eat it all the time, but I’m craving something different. Know what I mean?”
I also need to get the hell out of here and put some space between me and Sparkwood’s resident playboy.
The smile drops from Ash’s face, replaced by a hunger as his gaze roams over me. “I absolutely do.”
Sadly, that comment has zero effect on me, considering he likely said something similar to Raven or Dove or whatever other bird he’s courting—and escorting—into bed today.
Lucky for me, someone else is looking for Asher Hammond. Miracle of miracles, it’s also not a woman.
Zane pokes his head into the tent, rolling his eyes when he spots Ash. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Your custom is waiting inside.”
“Already?” Ash pulls out his phone, a scoff escaping his lips when he spies the time. “Guess time really does fly when you’re having fun. ”
“Your custom?” I ask, burrowing my face into the warmth of my scarf.
“Custom ink piece. The winner from earlier today.”
Ah yes, who can forget the gothic playboy bunny with legs for days and tits the size of cantaloupes?
Sadly, I do not possess a poker face. Every emotion shows and this time, I feel the aggravation slide across my features.
Ash notices it, too.
A low chuckle rises from his chest as he stretches, his gaze fixed on me. “You can keep hiding in that scarf, but I know what you’re thinking.”
“That I’m freezing?”
He leans in, his mouth a gentle whisper at my ear. “That you’re jealous.”
What an arrogant know-it-all.
“Not possible. I already told you, Ash, I’m not looking to be a part of your rotation.”
But instead of the thin-lipped reply from earlier, his face settles into a full grin as he playfully leans in to press a kiss to my cheek. “You’re in a league of your own, Oriana Thorne. No one even comes close.”
I hate how smooth he is with these lines. How very honest they feel as they dance across my heartstrings.
I motion toward the tent entrance. “You better go. Don’t want to keep your custom waiting.”
Ash nods and stands, but pauses, focusing his gaze on me. “Since I don’t have time right now, how about you set aside some time tonight? After I finish up, I’ll take you to the wine bar or wherever you want to go. Sound good?”
It sounds amazing, but I refuse to cave that easily .
Yes, of course I’m going to cave, but I have to put up a mild show of resistance—even if he sees right through it.
“Setting aside time for little old me? Well, aren’t I special?” I reply, shooting him a coy wink from behind my glasses.
“You most definitely are.”
“Maybe after I grab some food, I’ll head over to Black Lotus and watch you work. I’d like to see you in action.” I bite my lip, fully aware of the double entendre of my statement.
Ash also latches onto my words. He steps closer and wraps his hands around my waist, pulling me flush against him. “Thought you already had. Looking for some new ideas?”
Gliding my tongue along my lower lip, I gaze up at him through lowered lashes, desperately trying to appear unaffected by his proximity. “Told you I’m hungry. In truth, I possess an insatiable appetite.”
“Fucking hell, woman.” Ash mutters the words, but his dimpled smile assures me it’s meant in the best fashion. “You’re really fucking pretty, you know that?”
Warmth floods my cells again as his green eyes study me, threatening to short circuit my brain’s attempt to hold the man at arm’s length.
“I could say the same about you.”
A guffaw slips past his mouth. “I am not pretty. Take that back.”
“Fine. Hot as hell. Better?”
“Getting there. We’ll work on it later.”
Zane clears his throat, ending our playful banter. Seems his chronically late employee is suddenly running a tight ship. “Come on, man. She’s waiting. ”
With a final chuckle and roll of his eyes, Ash releases his grip on me and strolls over to Zane, giving his employee a playful punch in the shoulder. “Why are you in such a damn hurry all of a sudden?”
“Because,” Zane replies, flexing his tattooed arms as he drums the air, “the sooner you’re finished, the sooner we get down to the business of some serious fun. A few of the chicks have decided to stay the night in Sparkwood. Rented a suite at the hotel. The rest, as they say, shall go down in history.”
From my vantage point, I can’t hear Ash’s response to Zane as they walk inside Black Lotus, although I’m hopeful he’ll forgo the party for some up close and personal fun with me.
After all, he was the one who brought up spending time together, and if the look in his eyes was anything to hang my hat on, he’s all too eager for a second night of fun.
No, I’m not reading into it. I’m fully aware of Ash’s position on dating.
But isn’t every man footloose and fancy free until they meet the right woman?
Why can’t I be that woman? Ash already mentioned how different I am from his usual hookups—isn’t that a good thing?
In a league of my own.
Yes, it’s definitely a good thing.
I walk out of the tent and raise my hand to catch Mina’s attention across the parking lot.
She hurries over, rubbing her hands together briskly. “Damn, but it’s cold. Did you get any food yet? Braden mentioned they have?—”
“Don’t say the word pizza,” I warn her with a chuckle .
“Fine. How about soup and a sandwich from the deli?”
“Perfect.” I link arms with Mina as we stroll down the brightly lit sidewalk, dodging a vibrant mix of festival goers along the way.
“How is Ash?” Mina asks, a small smile playing on her mouth.
“Fine. He’s doing a live demonstration soon. I thought we could head over there after we eat.” I skew my mouth to the side and avert my gaze. “You could hang out with Braden some more.”
Mina laughs as a flush climbs her cheeks. “Sure, that’s why you want to hang out there. So I can talk to Braden.”
“Obviously. What other reason might I have?”
My friend pulls open the deli door, holding it for me. “You’re the worst liar. Just admit you’ve got a thing for Asher Hammond.”
“Never.”
“Still a liar,” she responds in a sing-song voice before turning her attention to the case of pre-made sandwiches.
I catch my reflection in the mirror hanging over the deli counter—the long dark hair, cheeks pinked from the cold, full lips and dark eyes dancing behind my lenses—and recall Ash’s compliment as he held me in his arms.
Really fucking pretty.
There was something so genuine and endearing about his words, as if he never imagined this thing happening between us, but now that it has, he’s okay with the idea.
I shake my head, trying to clear the thoughts. It’s just a passing flirtation. Right?
Mina turns back with a grin. “You’re blushing. Don’t even try to deny it this time. ”
“Maybe it’s a two-way street.” That’s as much as I’ll offer, but for my friend, it’s enough.
She wraps an arm about my shoulder, giving me a quick hug. “I don’t think there’s any maybe about it.”
A smile splits my face as I give the deli worker my order, but Mina’s words dance along the edges of my mind.
She’s right. I need to stop overthinking this situation with Ash and just let it unfold. It’s obvious he likes me and tonight, we’ll see how much.
But for now, I’m content with the fact that in a room of half-naked women, all desperate for the man’s attention, I was the only one he saw.