CHAPTER 1
KILLIAN
She has her hair up in two buns again today. I think it’s my favorite way that she wears her hair. It makes her look innocent and cute. Considering her small stature, it almost makes her look childlike. Then you look into her eyes or notice the tattoos adorning her body and it’s clear she’s really a badass, but one haunted by something.
The way her brown eyes are shadowed by her past makes me want to wrap her up in the feeling of cozy security and never let her go. From watching her, I’ve learned she finds solace in other worlds, ones she can get lost in because this one has let her down.
I desperately want to show her there is hope in this world and that I won’t let her down. Would she even believe me? Do I have enough to offer a woman like Edison?
Someone innocent, but fierce. Sweet, but sassy. Strong, but vulnerable.
Am I strong enough to protect her? By myself?
I remember a conversation I had with my brother, Coyle, ten years ago, when I was 21 and he was 24, about what it would be like to share a woman. We’ve always been close and there were a few times we shared a woman between us for a night. It was a thrill to share in her pleasure and help her see the potential in more than one partner.
I asked him hesitantly, “Do you think we could find the right woman for us?”
“You mean for a night of fun?” He shrugged one shoulder, answering his own question, “It’s still early, I bet we could head to the bar and pick someone up.”
“No,” I laughed, a little surprised at how eager he seemed since he’d always been the reserved one between the two of us. “I meant for longer than one night. You’re the only family I have left and, I don’t know,” I started to trail off, but then forced the rest of the words out, “I guess I don’t want someone to come between us and I lose my brother.”
“I’d never let someone come between us,” he promised.
We’d talk about it from time to time, the possibility of what I had suggested, but we never found the right woman. I thought it wasn’t meant to be. Then our work and lives got in the way. We changed and took two different paths in many ways.
It wasn’t a woman who came between us; it was time and life. The normal stuff that gets in the way of what you thought would always be important.
We aren’t as close as we once were, but he’ll always be my brother. He’s the only family I have left, but we’re both so damn busy.
As I watch Edison across the library, I wonder if she can be the person to bring us together again. I wonder if she’s the woman we were always looking for. I don’t know if Coyle thinks about the possibility anymore; it was so damn long ago.
The sweater Edison is wearing slips from her shoulder slightly and exposes the rose I tattooed there months ago. It’s beautiful and sits on the ball of her shoulder. It’s black and gray, the petals open as if they’re beckoning the light, the rain, whatever life is going to throw at it.
She got my name through a roundabout way, but I’m damn glad she did.
Her coworker, Kent, is best friends with Cy, a client of mine. Thankfully, Kent isn’t working today so I don’t have to worry about him wondering why I’m here where I, decidedly, shouldn’t be.
When she used Cy’s name as a referral, I figured I’d owe Cy a beer for sending another client my way. I get plenty on my own, with a waitlist of a few months, but a referral means people are happy with my work. I had no idea I would need to owe him for sending me the woman of my damn dreams.
I used to be a jokester growing up, more than likely to counter Coyle’s quiet stoicism. For years, that part had been receding and I floated in the gray while going through the motions with work being the only thing I focused on. Then Jessa, my receptionist at Misfit Tattoos, called me up to the front and I felt more like myself again.
The moment I took in Edison, all 5’2” of her with her big brown eyes and her spunky attitude and style, it was like color started to bleed back into the world. I smiled at her, and Jessa did a double take. My smile had been steadily fading except for the fake one I knew I had to put on for clients. Jessa elbowed me and when I glanced at her, she had an eyebrow arched in question.
I ignored her, too enamored by the vision in front of me.
I closed the small distance between us and extended my hand, my voice light, “Hi, Edison, right? I’m Killian.”
The moment her small hand slid into mine, I was done. Electricity shot up my arm and restarted my heart, something I was sure would never happen. I had spent so many years feeling like my heart only beat with the purpose to survive each day. Her grip was firm, and something flared in her own eyes, but she seemed to be able to brush off what was happening between us much easier than I did.
I was dumbstruck for a moment, all my thoughts centered on pulling the woman in front of me closer and making her mine.
Her voice was soft, like a melody on the wind, “It’s nice to meet you, Killian. I got your name through Kent and Cy, he’s really the one who recommended you? I’ve been waiting for this appointment for a few months now. I’m really excited.”
I swallowed hard as my mind raced. “Cy’s a good friend, I know Kent and Gabriel too. I’m sorry the wait was so long.”
I let go of her hand, even though everything in me was screaming to hold on. She waved her hand dismissively as a small smile lifted on her lips. “It’s not a problem at all, I’d rather wait for an artist in demand than go shitty place.”
I barked out a laugh, surprised at her candor and her grace. People either had no problem waiting or they bitched about it, the way she cut through it was refreshing as fuck. With Jessa watching our interaction, the need to get Edison alone was riding me hard.