Chapter 11 #2
Declan’s head is down as I catch sight of him through the window of the shop. His tattooed fingers run through his hair as he stares at something behind the reception desk, and my damn heart skips a beat at the action.
Why does he have to be so good-looking?
I shake off the thought and school my features as I enter Blank Canvas Ink. His head whips towards me, and his yellow-green eyes penetrate my gaze.
I look behind him so I don’t have to look at him, and a familiar set of eyes catches mine. “Well, look who it is. Damn girl, you were a knockout before, but the short hair makes you look like sex incarnate,” Becca says from her station.
I let out a laugh. “Hi, Becca.”
She comes out from behind her station and meets me where I stand.
“I’m going to hug you, and it’s not because I want to feel you up.
Unless you want me to.” She wraps her arms around my neck, and I return the hug.
When she pulls away, she plants a kiss on my cheek and says, “If my woman would let us open the relationship, you would be our number one pick. You look good, mama.”
I feel myself blush and, from the corner of my eye, peek at Declan. He’s staring at where Becca’s hands are on my biceps, and I can’t make out the expression on his face.
Is he mad?
“Thanks. I had the urge to cut it after Christmas,” I tell her.
The day after Christmas, my impulse control was lacking, and I took the scissors to my hair.
I had to have Jordan come over right after because I knew I had made a mistake.
She evened the cut out, and now that I’ve had it for a few weeks, it’s grown on me.
“Well, you look good. Doesn’t she look good, Declan?” She turns to ask the Viking behind the reception desk while slinging her arm over my shoulder.
I swallow hard because I have no idea what he’s going to say. I’m not even sure I want his opinion at this point.
“She looks gorgeous.”
I wasn’t making eye contact with him before, but I am now. My heart stalls at his comment because I’m pretty sure friends don’t call friends gorgeous. He can’t possibly think that about me, right?
“Yes, she does,” Becca confirms and gives my shoulder a tight squeeze. “Girl, he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you… or lick you, I’m not sure which one,” she whispers for my ears only.
I’m still staring at Declan and can confirm his face does have a… look to it. I just refuse to believe the words that came out of Becca’s mouth.
I clear my throat. “Anyways, I’m here to see you, Declan, about a rewards program that my dad was talking about?”
Becca lets me go, but not before saying, “Rewards program… does that mean you’re the reward?” She ends her question with a slap to my ass.
I yelp, and Declan groans. “You’re an HR nightmare waiting to happen, Becca. Don’t touch Penny,” he growls the last part.
She puts her hands up in surrender. “I’m just playing around. But seriously, Penny,” she looks at me, “when you want that clit piercing, I’ll be happy to do it for you.” She gives me an exaggerated wink, and a bubbled laugh leaves my throat.
This girl is something else. I have no idea how she and Declan met, but I have no doubt she keeps him on his toes.
“Come on back here,” Declan gestures to the reception desk, “We can figure out a plan.”
I make my way to the desk, and Declan moves out of his chair. “Here, sit down.”
I hesitate. I don’t want to sit because I was hoping this interaction would take five minutes or less, but Declan guides me by my lower back to sit in the butterscotch brown, high-backed leather chair.
“So, how do we want to do this?”
“How do we want to do what?” I bark back. Why I’m being snippy, I have no idea. I just feel the need to be around him.
His eyes narrow. “How do we want to do the rewards program? We could do punch cards or a points system. What do you think?”
I look at the reception desk while he asks me the questions, and I spot the coffee mug I gave Declan for Christmas.
There are remnants of coffee in it. “You use this?” I slide the mug toward me and examine it closely.
He never told me thank you on Christmas day when we opened presents, so I didn’t think he liked it.
“He literally brings it down from his apartment every day. It only leaves his hands when he’s tattooing,” interrupts Becca, who is watching and listening to us from her perch.
Her head is peaking over the little pony wall that divides the tattooing area from the reception area, and she’s got a shit-eating grin on her face.
“Go away,” Declan demands and looks back at me. “Anyways, the rewards program. I think we should do a Beach Brew Coffee House and Blank Canvas Ink duo card. For every coffee someone buys, they will get a dollar off a tattoo. And for every tattoo someone gets, they’ll get a dollar off their coffee.”
He carries the mug down from his apartment every day? “You never told me thank you,” I say instead. I’m having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that he uses the gift I made him.
Why does this make me irrationally madder at him?
“What?” he asks.
I turn to look at him. I didn’t realize he was so close, and I run right into his legs with mine when I swivel the chair.
His knees buckle slightly, and I internally fist pump the air. He deserved that.
“Oops,” I say without remorse. “I said, you never told me thank you for the gift.”
He bends down to trap me between his arms against the reception desk.
His eyes flick between mine, and I lean back as much as the chair will let me. I hate that I love the scent that’s wafting off his skin. The mixture of sandalwood and saltwater has me involuntarily rubbing my thighs together, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t have an effect on me.
It’s just the smell, not the man, who is doing this to you.
“Thank you,” he says, sincerity evident in his tone.
My eyes widen, but I school my features a second later. “Too little, too late,” I tell him and cross my arms.
“Are you being a brat just to fuck with me?” His eyes narrow, and his face gets closer to mine.
“I’m not a brat,” I sneer back. “You have no manners and are, quite frankly, not a very nice person. If I’m talking to you like this, it’s because I have a reason too.”
“Oh, no. What did he do?” Becca is now leaning her chin on one of her hands, watching us like we’re on a daytime television show.
I look from Declan to her. “He doesn’t like my kid… and he didn’t say thank you for the Christmas present I made him,” I tell her, throwing Declan under the bus. I’m not usually like this, but there’s a first time for everything.
Let’s just chalk it up to me PMSing.
I don’t usually let people get to me like this, but he hurt my feelings. Being a brat seems like the best self-defense mechanism at this point because otherwise, I’ll forgive him on the spot and throw myself at him with an apology and a hug.
Her eyebrows hit her forehead, and she looks at Declan. “What the fuck, Dec? You seriously told her you didn’t like her daughter? What is wrong with you?” She looks hurt on my behalf, and I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees the error of his ways.
I’m still trapped in between his arms when his head bows in shame. I have the urge to run my fingers through his blonde locks because his head is right in front of my breasts.
Fuck, I need to get laid. It’s a problem when I start getting tingles in places I shouldn’t from looking at someone who’s supposed to be my friend, or is it enemy, right now?
Regardless, I need to remind my body of all the reasons why he and I will never happen.
I need to get out of here.
I plant my hands on his shoulders and try to push him away. He doesn’t move a muscle, and his eyes find mine. His face is so close to me that I stop breathing. The heat of his stare holds me in place, and just when I think I might combust, he stands up.
“I said I was sorry, Pen. I swear to you I am.”
“But did you buy her flowers?” Becca asks from the peanut gallery.
“The rewards card sounds fine,” I say and move to get around his large frame. “I need to go.”
He stops me with a hand on my bicep, and goosebumps involuntarily rise at the warmth of his touch. I look down at where his tattooed fingers flex against my skin.
Why does he have to have perfect hands?
“I’ll text you when I make the cards.”
I look up at him and nod.
He reluctantly lets me go, and I tell Becca goodbye before leaving his shop.
When the fresh air outside hits my lungs, I decide I need to get back on the dating app and find someone to go out with again.
Because I would rather wait for Hell to freeze over than admit that Declan doesn’t just make my body heat up, but he makes my heart skip a beat too.