CHAPTERONE
ANASTASIA
It’s beena long day at Thunder Ink. I stand straight, press my fists into my lower back, and arch my chest toward the ceiling. While I’m not unaccustomed to working ten hour shifts, I try not to schedule them often. One of the best perks of working for myself is that I can set my own schedule, but lately with all of the extra bills that came with home ownership, I’ve had to up my game and work my butt off, and it’s paid off; I’m ahead on my bills. I’m beat, but my last client of the night just paid up and is headed out the door.
Creed, one of my best friends here at the shop, is still going strong. He’s hunched over the guy on his table who can’t hide his wincing. Rib pieces will do that to you. I don’t envy the client, my first rib piece nearly had me in tears.
With a long sigh, I head over to my station and start to clean up, sterilizing everything in sight. As soon as I finish, the door chimes overhead. I flip around, about to tell whoever it is that they’re out of luck for the night—I’m done taking walk-ins and Creed’s in the middle of a session—but my breath catches in my throat the minute I meet his steely gray eyes.
I don’t know him, but I’ve seen him around. The giant man standing in the front entry nearly blocks the frame. I knew he was big, but now that I’ve seen him this close, he’s positively massive. His smooth, sinewy arms bulge with muscle, and are completely ink-free.
“Can I help you?” I manage to eke out. So much for straight-up being firm with him about me not taking any more walk-ins.
His strong jaw flexes as he walks toward me, bringing with him the scent of Irish soap and cedar. “I was hoping to get a tattoo.”
“Tonight?” I say, before instantly backpedaling. “Of course, what did you have in mind?” Geez, I’m a sucker for a big, strong man. It’s been a long time since I’ve been interested in anyone. I know practically everyone in Thunder Mountain, which takes some of the excitement away when you know where they’ve been. Where their brothers have been…hell, even some of their fathers.
“Just simple script,” he says, tracing a line over his heart. “The name Shel.”
“And that’s short for…?”
He furrows his brow. Yeah, it’s none of my business, but I just can’t stop myself. “Shelly.”
“Oh, okay. Sure.” I’m unable to hide the disappointment from my voice. He’s come in here to get a tattoo of his girlfriend’s name. Cool.
It can’t be his wife, his ring finger is as bare as it gets. I’m no fool; after sizing up a man’s eyes, it’s the second place I look.
Part of me wants to tell him to come back tomorrow. That I really don’t want to give a tattoo of another woman’s name to this gorgeous man who clearly should be having “Anastasia” written on his pec instead of Shelly, but I can add a few extra bucks to my kitchen renovation stash.
“You’re in luck,” I say, “I just finished cleaning my station, and we can probably knock this out in an hour.”
The man’s chest rises and falls as he exhales. “Cool,” he says, “I’m Valen.” He extends his hand, and it’s so big that it completely engulfs mine.
“Interesting name.” I try not to sound as girly as I feel right now. Girlfriend or not, Valen is a dreamboat, complete with the cutest little dimple indenting his chin.
“It was my father’s.” He nods, and I notice how thick his neck is. How amazing his tanned skin would probably feel beneath my fingertips as I wrap my arms around him, pulling him flush against me until I feel his hardness digging into my stomach. Growl!
Before I say something I regret, I turn on my heel, clearing my throat. “I’m Anastasia. Follow me on back.” Valen gives a curt nod as we head to my station.
I try hard to keep my mind on the task at hand, but it isn’t easy with this big, sweet-smelling man in my personal space. “I’ll draw up a few options, and you can see which one you like best.” I brave a glance in his direction. He looks down at me, his face stone cold—unreadable.
“Actually, I saw your work online.”
“You did?” I can’t help but smile. Flattery will get you everywhere.
“I was hoping you’d be my artist.”
“Well, well, well. Sometimes we do get what we hope for.” Oh my God, I sound like an idiot.
“You specialize in scripts, right?”
“Amongst other things, but yeah.” My heart races in my chest. How can a strange man I’ve only seen in passing make my body react like this? It’s like I just drank six cups of coffee, and I’m in desperate need of a way to utilize the extra energy.I can think of one way to burn it off…Bed. Room.“I enjoy doing scripts.”
I brush the sweat from my hairline as I grab a piece of blank paper and pen. “Just write down exactly how you want it spelled, and we’re already on our way.”
“Cool.” Our fingers brush when he takes the paper from me, and a wave of tingles shoots up my arm. I giggle like an idiot and try my best to play it off like I’m coughing. I don’t know if that’s better or worse. I’mneverlike this around men.
His triceps flex as he writes down the name. My tongue taps my top lip as I wait for him to finish. Those stunning gray eyes meet mine once more, leaving me breathless.