Steam and Ink Page 5

  She pulled back at that thought. That wasn’t her anymore. Those thoughts weren’t hers. They couldn’t be. She’d grown from the woman she’d been with Jason, and she couldn’t, no, wouldn’t, be that woman with Austin. He was the one who would lay ink on her skin, not lay claim to it.

  That was if she could find the courage to do so in the first place.

  “Sierra? Your ink? Callie said something about flowers, but that means so many things. I need to know more.”

  She sucked in a breath, her lower lip trembling. “I…I want daisies on my right side. I don’t know how many, or how large or even what color, but I need them to…cover up, or rather go around, something.”

  Austin furrowed his brow. “I’m covering up other ink?”

  She shook her head. “This is my first tattoo.”

  Austin gripped her hand softly, his touch soothing, calming, an anchor. “What am I covering up, Sierra?” His voice had lowered, as if he was talking to a frightened lamb on the edge of a precipice.

  Though that was an apt description at the moment, she didn’t want to be that person.

  Not anymore.

  “I have a couple scars.” Oh, what a lie, but she’d tell the whole of it soon. She’d need to. “I’m…I’m not ready to show them to you yet, so I know you can’t design anything.”

  Austin squeezed her hand, and she cursed herself.

  Jesus she was an idiot.

  “I’m wasting your time today, Austin and I’m sorry for it. I thought I’d take it one step at a time, but that was stupid. You’d need to see my side so you can design.”

  Austin nodded then pulled back. “If you’re not ready to show me, then we can take it one slow step at a time. I don’t mind, Sierra. I will say that doing a cover-up on scars isn’t possible, not in most cases. It’s an art form in itself that we don’t do too much of here unless we know the scars and can trust your ink won’t fuck up in the future because of them. The skin that’s scarred is too different and puckered usually, and the ink will end up spreading out over the scar, rather than being where we wanted it in the first place. However, we can do something around the scars.”

  “I researched that. But your time is valuable.”

  “So is your recovery and healing.”

  Touched, she blinked up at him, licking her lips. “Then what can we do today?”

  He grinned at her then, his eyes filling with a touch of laughter for the first time since she’d walked in. That alone made her feel as if coming in that day was worth it.

  “If it’s okay with you, I’ll trace your side so I can get an idea of the size of canvas we’ll be working with. Then I’ll work on a few daisy types and show you the next time you come in. Hopefully by then, I’ll be able to see exactly what you mean by scars, and then we can move on to the next step.”

  Her hands shook, but she nodded, knowing in order to fully do what she wanted she’d need to show him. It was a no-brainer, but it still didn’t make it any easier.

  “That sounds like a plan then.”

  “I can tell you want ink, Sierra. If you didn’t, then we wouldn’t be sitting here. I don’t mind waiting until you’re ready. And when we do start actually tattooing, and even when you show me your scars, I’ll put up the curtain we have so it’s just you and me. No one else. What do you say?”

  That idea appealed more to her than it should have, and she nodded readily.

  “Okay then, stand up and lift your arm. Show me exactly how large you’re thinking and then I’ll trace you. Like I said, I won’t know exactly what I will be doing until I see everything. Even if this is just for show today, it’s still a step. You know?” He met her gaze. “That means I’ll have to put my hands on you. You okay with that?”

  More than okay.

  Instead of saying that, she nodded again and stood.

  She turned so her side faced Austin and she wouldn’t have to meet his gaze. As soon as he put his hands on her, she jumped.

  “Steady, Legs, I’m not going to bite,” he teased. “Well, not unless you ask me to.”

  Despite herself, she snorted. “Stop calling me Legs.” It was insulting…and made her want to dissolve in a puddle at his feet. Damn the man.

  “I like the look of your legs, so I’m going to keep doing it. Now, how big are we thinking?”

  Big. Thick and long.

  Wait, that wasn’t what he was asking.

  Austin gave a deep chuckle. “I can see from your face where your mind went, and yes, big is a good word for it. However, I was talking about your tattoo.”

  Sierra refused to meet his gaze but lifted her chin. “Confident of yourself. And I’m thinking the entire ribcage, side of my stomach, and down over my hips.” Her scar covered most of that, but since she would have to have ink around it, she wanted something to remember. Something that was worth the pain and memories.

  “That’s big, but I think with your curves there, it’s going to look great. So hold tight and let me trace you.”

  The pencil traced over her side, and his hand brushed the underside of her breast. They both gasped, but neither commented. They needed to stay professional for both their sakes. His calloused fingers pressed through her shirt and she held back a sigh. She had recovered most of the feeling in her side, and his hands were so large, so…male…that she new she’d never forget his touch.

  “Ride with me.”

  Sierra turned, confused. “What?”

  Austin gazed into her eyes, intense. “Ride with me. On my bike in the mountains.”

  Sierra broke out into a cold sweat. Visions of flames, the squeal of tires, and the smell of burnt flesh caused her knees to give out.

  “Shit, baby, I’m sorry,” Austin murmured, his hands on her hips then her cheeks. “You don’t have to ride with me, not if you’re going to react like that. You don’t have to tell me why, but you can if you want. I’ll listen.”

  She sucked in a breath, embarrassed for reacting like that. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be, Sierra.”

  Damn it. She didn’t want to be locked away in her past, unable to take a step into any kind of future. Eden had been a step, as had coming into Montgomery Ink, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

  She needed to be a big girl and learn to breathe again.

  Her gaze met Austin’s concerned one, and she swallowed hard. “Yes, Austin. Yes, I’ll ride with you.”

  He looked like he didn’t believe her, but she’d show him. She was ready to move on, even if she had to force herself. She wouldn’t be hidden and caged. Not anymore.

  If Austin could help her, well, then she’d take that step.

  Finally.

  Chapter 5

  Shep Montgomery ignored the dagger eyes aimed at him, taking it as par for the course with this particular client. When Lisette came in for any ink, her man, Mathieu, came with her. And by came with her, Shep meant guarded her like a pit bull and practically growled at Shep for daring to touch his woman.

  With a roll of his eyes, he cleaned off leftover ink and plasma so he could finish the shading on the koi fish. Lisette had come in with those flirty eyes of hers and her easy smile, begging Shep to draw a koi surrounded by a field of flowers and cool water over her hip and thigh. Shep loved working with her since she was so easy to please once they got the right design.

  Shep guessed that Mathieu would cheerfully rip Shep’s arms off for where he had to place his hands during the process. And Shep knew his own wife, Shea, would probably do the same thing if anyone touched him like that. Actually, Shep might hurt anyone who thought they could ink Shea too, so he didn’t blame Mathieu in the slightest.

  “You feeling good, Lisette?” Shep asked, his attention on his final shading and not on the man looming over the both of them. Seriously, Mathieu was one big motherfucker.

  “Mmm,” she hummed, and Shep had to smile. He loved it when his clients fell into the bliss that was tattooing rather than tensed up the entire time. Lisette was a pro at this.


  He added one last stroke then wiped the area, sitting back to appreciate his work. “All done. You need help up to see it in the mirror?”

  “I’ve got her,” Mathieu grumbled.

  Shep held back a brighter smile. He’d known that’s what the big man would say, but he liked to egg him on anyway.

  Lisette let out a little gasp, and Shep knew his work was done. They went over the aftercare instructions that he knew she was aware of since she had a half sleeve of flowers already, but he never let anyone leave Midnight Ink without hearing it and agreeing to it on Shep’s terms. As he watched Mathieu carefully walk his woman out of the shop, Shep bounced on his feet, antsy to get back to his own woman. Lisette was his last full client of the day, and after he finished the next consultation with Chavon, one of his favorite people in the world, he’d be able to go home to his wife.

  His wife.

  He’d never get used to that, but God, he loved the sound of it. They’d courted quickly, got engaged even faster, and then married at the justice of the peace because they couldn’t wait any longer. He’d thought Shea would have wanted the big wedding with the even bigger dress, flowers and all the trappings, but he was wrong. It’d been Shea who wanted the small wedding in the little office so she could call him her own. She’d been the one to pull him from the coffee house on the warm day with a smile on her face. He couldn’t ask for anything better.

  He’d do anything for her, and saying ‘I do’ in that cramped office was only the small part of it.

  By the time he finished the consult for Chavon’s latest ink—this one not on her ass contrary to what her man thought Shep did only when it came to her—he was beyond ready to head home to Shea.

  “Say hi to Shea for me,” Sassy, the Midnight Ink receptionist and one of his closest friends said as he packed up.

  “Will do,” he said back. “And don’t tire your men out too much.” Sassy was engaged to not one man, but two—Rafe and Ian—who thought she was the center of their universe. “Let me know when you have a date for the wedding. Shea’s been asking.”

  Sassy nodded, an odd light coming into her eyes, and turned away. He sighed, knowing he’d have to deal with that if she’d let him. That was a big if.

  He said goodbye to his ‘family’ at Midnight, then headed home, that odd gnawing in his gut coming back. There was something up with Shea, and he couldn’t figure it out. They hadn’t been married long enough for him to learn every tic and look, but he was enjoying figuring them out. However, he knew something was wrong. She didn’t act any differently. She’d still smile brightly at him, but sometimes, it would be a little too bright. Her normal, quiet personality hadn’t changed, and she truly let herself go only when it was just the two of them. She was ice to his fire, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. But he needed her to be happy.

  He’d figure it out. He always did.

  As soon as he stepped into the house, he opened his arms, and Shea rocketed herself against him like she did every evening. Seriously. Best. Thing. Ever. He hoped this would remain something they did every day no matter how old or busy they eventually became. Okay, so maybe when he was older, he might break a hip doing it, but it’d be worth it. He worked later hours than Shea because he started later in the day, so she was always home first. If it had been the other way around, he knew they’d end up in the same embrace. He inhaled that sweet scent of hers, crushing her to his body then slanting his mouth over hers. She tasted of tea and grapes.

  “God, I love you, Shea Montgomery.”

  He’d never get over hearing her new last name. The name, however antiquated the practice of her taking his name, reminded them both that she was his…and he was hers.

  Shea pulled back, breathless. “I love you too, Shep.”

  She smiled, but it took a second longer to reach her eyes than it should have.

  There. There was something in her eyes. Something wrong. He’d asked her about it before, and she’d waved it off, saying he was just seeing things. He wouldn’t ask again. No, he’d find it out on his own. He’d just do his best to make her happy no matter what. He’d hate to think he was failing at this marriage thing right out the gate. That was not something he would allow.

  “I was just getting everything out for dinner. Want to help?”

  He kissed her nose then nodded. They cooked dinner together most nights, the dance around the counters as their bodies brushed against one another a type of foreplay that made the rest of their nights even better.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he took it out, one arm still around Shea. “It’s Austin,” he said after looking at the screen.

  “Answer it,” Shea said. He’d introduced Austin to her when they were dating, and the two of them hit it off easily.

  “Hey, bro’, what’s up?” Shep kissed the top of Shea’s head as they made their way to the kitchen.

  “Hey, do you think you can come up to Denver for a bit? You and Shea.”

  Shep froze, squeezing Shea’s arm at Austin’s tone. The other man’s voice didn’t sound like the warm, yet broody man he’d grown up with. Something was off. Shea looked up at him at his touch, worry in her gaze.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his throat choking up.

  Austin sighed. “I…shit. I don’t know how to say this. Damn it. I shouldn’t have to say this at all. It’s not fair.” He took a deep breath while Shep held his. “Dad has cancer, man.”

  Shep staggered back, using Shea as support. “What? You’re serious?”

  “As serious as it gets,” Austin said softly. “He’s starting treatment soon, and I think he’d like you there. You and Shea. He’s never met her, you know,” he said, stating the obvious.

  He swallowed hard, blinking away the tears in his eyes. Shep’s parents had moved to Oregon when he moved to New Orleans over a decade ago, but he’d grown up in the big mess of Montgomerys in Denver. The idea that bigger-than-life Harry was sick just didn’t compute.

  There really was only one answer to give.

  “I’ll be up there as soon as I can, for as long as I can, Austin. You can count on me.”

  Austin let out a breath, and Shep wanted to reach through the phone and grip his cousin hard. “Thanks, man. You can stay at Griffin’s place since he has the guesthouse. You and Shea. That way you both have some privacy for as long as you need it. I have the guest room, but I know y’all are newlyweds and all that shit. I don’t know why I’m even rambling on like this, but fuck. I’m lost, man. I…I know all the siblings are here, but I could use you too. You know?”

  Shep sucked in a breath then kissed Shea’s temple. “Anything, Austin. You know it. We’ll make the arrangements, and I’ll get back to you on the when.”

  “Thanks, Shep.”

  “See you soon, cousin, and breathe, okay? Harry…Harry’s stronger than all of us.”

  “That’s what I thought too. See you soon.”

  His cousin hung up, and Shep stared at the phone in his hand. Shit. Harry had cancer. Fucking cancer. That didn’t make any sense. Cancer wasn’t supposed to touch his family. It was something that happened to others and he donated money for treatments and cures. Crass and cruel, but that’s how his mind dealt with the things that made no sense while tearing a hole in his gut. He didn’t know how to work with this.

  “I heard most of that, baby.” Shea cupped his face, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m so sorry. Let me call work and take time off. What I can’t take off, I can do from my computer anywhere I go. Then I’ll look up plane fare and all of that. We’ll stay in Denver as long as we can. Okay?”

  He kissed her then, his lips a soft caress before sinking into her fully. She moaned into him even as their tears mixed together.

  “I love you, Shea. Never leave me. Please. Just be by side forever.”

  His wife licked her lips even as that odd light shot over her eyes again before she blinked, clearing her gaze. “Of course, Shep. I love you. I’m not going anywhere.”
<
br />   He held her close, knowing that he needed to be strong for Austin, for Shea, for Harry, for the lot of them. He might be only a cousin in this, but he was family. He and Shea would head up to Denver and do what they could. And while he was there, he’d find out what was up with his wife. There was only so much a man could take, and he didn’t want there to be anything between them that could harm their relationship.

  Life was too short for the kind of pain that could be healed.

  Chapter 6

  Austin gripped Sierra’s hips, keeping her steady as she blinked up at him, her gaze drunk with pleasure, but still on him. Only him. He licked his lips and could practically taste her sweetness on his tongue. God, he couldn’t wait to have the sweet cream on his taste buds.

  “I’m going to fuck you hard, Legs,” he growled, his body shaking as he fought for control.

  “Take me.” She lifted her chest, her breasts standing out like a succulent feast. Her nipples looked like fucking ripe berries in the clamps he’d put her in, begging for his tongue.

  Austin let his cock drag along her swollen pussy, taking in that quick catch of her breath. His gaze traced her breasts then up to where he’d tied each of her arms to the bedposts using the brand-new rope he’d bought her.

  Seriously the best image ever.

  He couldn’t wait to plunge deep within her and have that tight pussy of hers clench his cock, milking him down to the last drop. Just as he pulled back, his eyes opened, and he cursed himself.

  Great. A dream. Another fucking dream.

  And he spent on his stomach before getting to the good part.

  Austin rolled out of bed, his body groaning from a restless sleep and vivid dreams. Thankfully, he slept naked so there would be less clean-up, considering he dreamed like a thirteen-year-old boy. He staggered back, his body not quite awake and in desperate need of coffee. He pulled on the sheets, careful not to get any of his mess back on him.