The Harder He Falls: 2 (So Inked) (5 page)

He chuckled. “Nah. Guy living in a house I own got a boxer puppy and he’s not really the responsible type. Been trying to help him find someone to take her but no dice.”

That rubbed her all the wrong way. She’d accepted total responsibility for her grandmother. An animal was different, but it still relied on its owner for food, shelter and water. There was no excuse for mistreating it.

“Why’d he even get it in the first place?” she grumbled.

“With Mouse? Who knows. He probably thought it looked cute.”

“That’s a dumb reason to get a pet.”

“I know, right?”

Damn, she’d just agreed with him about something.

“Shit. I have to go. I’ll drop in on the party tonight.”

“See you then.”

And damn if she didn’t hope just a little bit that he’d show up.

Peonies—These summer flowers are a popular element in Japanese tattoos and are often paired with other figures to create a complex meaning. Alone, they symbolize a fleeting beauty and fragility, but also that risk is required for great reward. This element is thought to have originated in an old Japanese card game the samurai and thieves used to play, so an element of risk and daring is wrapped into the flower.

Quin parked his pickup truck across the street from So Inked. The surrounding lots were crammed full and people loitered in front of the shop, many holding soft drinks and almost all sporting long white strips of fabric tied around their left arms.

He locked the truck and slipped his keys into his pocket. His arm burned with the familiar sensation of a new tattoo. He regretted not being able to get more done, but one of the men working the docks at the warehouse bordering Quin’s property had dropped by the gym with a firsthand account of the vandal. There’d been one man moving the boxes around, dark clothing, nothing else. It hadn’t given the police any leads, but Quin had still wanted to be on hand.

The party was already in full swing, and it seemed that everyone up and down Greenville had turned out for the event. He didn’t recognize anyone, but he hadn’t lived in Texas very long.

Quin squeezed through the entrance into the shop proper where it was wall-to-wall people. A girl who looked like Rosie the Riveter stepped up to him as soon as he was past the threshold.

“Hi, welcome to So Inked. Thanks for coming to the party.” She held out a strip of white cloth. A similar ribbon dangled from her arm, but tied into a pretty bow. “We’re asking everyone to wear these in memory of Daniel and Kristen. I’m Pandora, by the way.”

“Thanks.” He accepted the strip of cloth and glanced around. Almost everyone else was wearing one, and though people smiled and laughed, there was an undertone of grief. It felt like the memorials he’d attended for his fallen brothers in arms.

“There are drinks in the back and Carly should get here soon. Let me know if you have any questions.”

“I will.”

There were so many people he didn’t see how he would manage to find Kellie. He wasn’t interested in his phone. The last twenty-four hours had been pleasant without the constant pestering from fifty different people.

He wandered over to Kellie’s station, the first one on the right, and leaned over to admire sketches taped to the wall and a few framed pieces of art that had her Asian flair. In the middle, a photograph of a pale little girl sitting on the lap of an Asian grandmother flanked by a woman and a Caucasian man was in a battered wooden frame. He could only assume that it was Kellie and her family.

“Forget something?”

He spun, hands coming up automatically to a guard position.

Kellie’s brows lifted and her gaze flicked from his face to his hands and back again.

“Damn.” He grinned and chuckled. Caught red-handed and he didn’t mind. He relaxed and let his arms drop to his sides.

She appeared completely different from yesterday. Instead of jeans and a tank top, she wore some kind of shiny, formfitting Asian-style dress that hugged her curves and had a distracting hole cut out just above her breasts before fastening tight around her neck. Like the rest of the guests, she sported a slim white band on her left arm. She was exotic, a tattooed Asian Amazon. He’d do her in a second.

Kellie smirked and waved at him to follow her. The shop was loud between the music pumping through the speakers and the clamor of voices. She led him down a short hall to the back and pushed open a door to an empty room. He slid in behind her and closed the door.

“It rang so much I turned it off.”

“I don’t blame you. Sometimes I turn it off just because.” His gaze dropped to her ass. And what a nice ass it was. She grabbed the phone and met him halfway. He pocketed it without turning it on. He focused on her face, noticing the lighter flecks of brown in her eyes, the perfect shape of her eyebrows.

“Thanks,” he said after a moment.

“You’re welcome. How’s the tattoo feeling?”

He must have done something right, because she’d lost the waspish sting to her voice. He liked this change and he liked her. He didn’t know what his chances were with her, but there was no harm in trying. He added a smile. Girls liked it when a guy smiled at them, right?

“Good. When should I come back?”

“Two weeks at least.” The corners of her mouth turned up a tad. He’d take it.

“I can do that. How’s the party going?”

“Oh man.” She rolled her eyes and massaged her temples. “A little crazy. We didn’t expect anywhere near this turnout. We hadn’t planned this to be a memorial, but that’s kind of what it turned into. There’s not enough food or drinks.” She scrubbed her hands over her face and sighed.

He’d attended enough memorials during and after his stint in the service to know that the least organized events were often the most cathartic. If these people had died only a month ago, many would still be grieving. Probably just coming to terms with their loved ones being gone.

“It’ll be good.” He rubbed his fingers over the length of fabric. “Want to do me a favor and tie this?”

“Sure,” she said slowly. She was even slower to take the strip from his hand and step to his side.

Kellie slid it under the firm bulge of his biceps and held the ends out until she had an even length on each side. She was completely intent on the task, tying the knot then wrapping the bow. Her fingers skated over his skin and everywhere she touched tingled. Where were women like her made? She couldn’t possibly be real. Business owner. Hot. Kind of intimidating, if he were the type to wither under her piercing stare. He’d like to get to know her better, if she let him.

He should have told her yesterday he’d purchased her grandfather’s gym. Women, in his experience, didn’t much care for secrets.

“There.”

Quin glanced at the bow when he really just wanted to feel her hands on him again. “Perfect. You wouldn’t happen to have anything to put on my arm, would you?”

“Sure.”

Kellie grabbed a bottle from her desk. Instead of slathering it on herself, as he’d hoped she would, she held it out to him.

“Don’t want to put it on me?” He took the bottle and gave her a wink.

“Do I want to take a chance you have a one-in-a-million disease? No thanks.” Still, she smiled as she said it.

And damn was she a knockout when she smiled.

Kellie accepted the cup of water Quin offered her. It was only the best tap water in Texas, and the only thing they had an hour into the party. Still, it was nice to see so many people who cared about not only them, but also the community they had created.

It was crazy, but the new place already felt like home. The shop glistened, from the polished concrete floors to the red walls and eclectic chandeliers hanging from the vaulted ceilings. Their weeks of slow work to get the new space ready paid off. It had a whole new vibe from the old shop, which had sported the same white walls and black-and-white tile as any other shop.

Instead of display cases, they had a receptionist desk built from recycled lumber and an old Dr Pepper billboard. Most of their décor and furniture was repurposed from something else. The drafting desks at the back of the shop were made from curio cabinets and they had two chairs that once were dentist chairs. Old doors had been painted and mounted on the walls for station space and extra work areas. Currently they served as buffet lines for a whole smorgasbord of potluck food.

Local businesses had turned out to show their support of the So Inked reopening. A few of the restaurants had donated kegs, and one of the DJs they knew was set up at the receptionist desk, spinning music.

Kellie twitched the slinky fabric of her figure-hugging dress and forced herself not to look at Quin. She’d known he was bad news when he walked in, but she hadn’t expected to like him. She couldn’t even say why. It was just the way they talked and the strength in his aura. It was easy. Comfortable.

Quin bumped her shoulder and invisible fingers caressed her spine. “Hey, I think I see someone I know.” His hand rested on the small of her back. “I’ll be right back.”

She nodded, a little unsettled by her response.

It had to be the tension she was carrying around. Normally she would exercise, get the kinks in her muscles out of her system and that would be that. But she hadn’t been able to make herself go to a new gym. Not yet. This left her other usual means of relaxation.

Sex.

She knew from the scant few hours she’d spent around Quin that sex with him would be physical, hot and sweaty. Exactly the kind of release she needed, and what she did not want.

Through the press of people Kellie spied Mary holding up a wall and headed in her direction. How men weren’t circling her, Kellie would never know. She was always stylish, in a 1950s-housewife-gone-bad sort of way—if housewives sported some serious ink. Her hair was curled and pinned back in victory rolls and her face painted to perfection. Yet she stood alone, quietly watching the crowd.

“Looks like a success to me.” Kellie leaned next to her friend and surveyed the crowd. They had an hour to go before they kicked everyone out and said to hell with the mess.

Mary nodded and sipped her drink.

“Hey, where’s Sam?” She hadn’t seen Mary’s teenage son yet.

“He’s grounded.”

Kellie whipped her head around. “Sam? What? Why?”

“I told you on the phone earlier. Were you listening?” Her eyes narrowed.

Kellie held her hands up. “Hey, you were talking way too fast for me to understand. Plus every other word was in Spanish. I don’t expect you to speak Korean, so don’t blame me for not understanding.”

Mary sighed and downed the remains in her cup. “Sam got caught helping some of the boys in his summer school class cheat on their exams. Mr. Ricky is threatening to fail him completely.”

“But Sam is in summer school because he’s smart. I mean, he was failed for helping people cheat in the first place. It doesn’t make any sense.” Kellie agreed with punishing Sam for cheating, but failing him was a step too far. It didn’t make sense. The kid was clearly smart enough for five people.

“No. Mr. Ricky is a
mama bicho
.”

“I have no idea what you said, but I’ll drink to that. What an asswipe.” Kellie tapped her cup to Mary’s and took a drink.

“Trouble,” Mary murmured.

Kellie searched for Autumn but she was still MIA. Kellie was officially worried. Her gaze skimmed over Pandora and Brian, chatting away with a few of the restaurant and club owners. Trouble, but probably the good kind.

Then a taller than average Asian man stepped into view. He didn’t wear one of the white ribbons, nor did he look inclined to smile. Shin wove through clusters of people, heading straight for her. Kellie groaned.

Trouble.

The kind she didn’t want to deal with.

“I’m going to bust his kneecaps,” she muttered.

“Not in the shop you aren’t. Good luck.” Mary turned tail and disappeared into the throng of people.

Kellie sighed and took a wider stance. She’d rather be wearing something besides a Japanese silk dress and pumps for a face-off with Shin, but this was her party, not a fighting cage.

“We need to talk,” he said as soon as he was within speaking distance.

“Finally decided to get a tattoo? I’m surprised.” She turned her attention to people watching, ignoring Shin positioning himself at her side.

They’d been best friends once as kids. Her childhood was full of time spent with him in the treehouse behind her grandmother’s house. They’d laughed and joked then about growing old together, getting married and traveling back to North Korea on vacation to see distant relatives. Puberty had changed everything. Kellie discovered that there were boys outside their small community who didn’t mind that she was too loud, liked to play football and watch boy movies. They’d grown apart until she didn’t know him anymore.

Shin’s mouth screwed up. He liked who she’d become as an adult even less, and let her know on every available occasion just how far she’d fallen from the role of his chosen wife. When she’d moved back to Texas, he’d lectured her about how a proper Korean woman wouldn’t get a tattoo, much less tattoo others. “We need to talk about the gym.”

His breath fanned across her neck. It was by sheer force of will that she didn’t gag. Did the man not know how to use a toothbrush?

Kellie studied the crowd. “The gym was sold. What else is there to say about it?”

“Your grandfather built that gym—”

She held up a finger. “No, my grandfather bought a warehouse and made it into a gym.”

Shin’s brows were two dark slashes across his forehead. His smooth skin had a sheen of perspiration despite the air conditioner, cranked as high as it could go. He switched to Korean, as if it would sway her more. “That gym was the heartbeat of our community. We could make it a haven again.”

To irritate him, she spoke in English. “Then why did it go broke? If people were that involved, why did the Gyeons have to sell it?”