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I shake my head at my friend and then look over at Beckett who has come up next to us. He’s not looking at me though, he’s staring at his woman, his wife, and the other half of his soul. The look of wonder, awe, and love on his face is clear to see and there’s no way anyone could question how he feels about the spitfire of a woman who is giggling right along with me.
“You know we’re in a bar owned by an MC right now,” I tease her, and she looks around quickly, her eyes lighting up.
“Oh,” she bites her lip as she looks at a guy wearing a leather cut who I noticed sitting at the bar when I walked in, “I think it’s the same club, actually. Too bad Lark isn’t here. It only took one meeting and she decided her next romance series at to be about alpha bikers.”
“Maverick was not thrilled,” Beckett rumbles before he flashes me a grin and pulls me gently from his wife’s clutches. His arms are strong and remind me of family as he wraps me up in a hug. There’s not a hint of jealousy on Amelia’s face, not like there should be, as I hug him back. “It’s good to see you away from the convention, Emery,” he mumbles.
I grin up at him before he ushers us over to the table where I notice a drink waiting for me. Amelia winks at me with a casual shrug before I can even ask about it. I should have known; she’s thoughtful like that.
“How are you liking my city so far?”
Amelia lights up and gets a faraway look in her eyes. “It’s gorgeous. I love all the history here. Denver is amazing, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve always had a soft spot for old Southern cities.” She grimaces slightly, “And, while I know it’s a draw, I’m glad we didn’t come during Mardi Gras.”
Beckett kisses the side of her head before resting his large hand at the nape of her neck like he can’t keep his hands to himself. “I’m glad too, Baby. This way we aren’t fighting tourists and can see more of the city.”
I can’t help but smile because they’re still tourists. “And you don’t have to dodge drunken frat guys,” I point out and shudder.
They’re the fucking worst. The number of people who don’t understand I can’t tattoo them when they’re drunk off their asses is kind of wild. I get it, they were dared or they’re over their fear of needles because of liquid courage, but I’m not risking my career over that shit. No fucking way.
Amelia nods sagely as we take a sip of our drinks. “How is it being away from the kids?”
Amelia winces slightly and I get it. It’s clear how much she loves her kids, but not the ones she has with her husband. The rest of the Banks Ink. crew and their extended family--which includes some super huge former military guys who run a security firm and the guys from the band Suburban Outcasts—have a fucking gaggle of kids between them. Not everyone goes to Vegas for the convention every year, but the year I met them they were all there and it was wild. They all love those kids and help each other out; they’re like their own village of a family and it’s sweet as fuck.
“It’s strange. I miss them,” Amelia smiles softly, “but I’m also really enjoying having this time away.”
“Not just from the kids either, I’m sure,” I tease her because some of the adults of the group don’t always act like it.
Amelia’s smile widens and she nods. “I’m surprised we didn’t find Troy in our suitcases when we arrived here.”
I bark out a laugh, knowing that if he could have figured out a way to do it, he would have. Well, at least if Ellie, the wife he shares with his best friend, Walsh, wouldn’t have found him first. When I first met the triad, I was a little shocked, but it works for them. The guys clearly love their woman and their kids, but it’s also clear that the bonds of friendship between Walsh and Troy are strong. The more time I spent around them, the more sense it made.
We fall into an easy conversation about work, life, their vacation, and any antics their family has been up to. It’s relaxing even when their stories pull at a part of me that I wish could be fulfilled in my everyday life. I miss the way they have a family surrounding them. It’s something I haven’t had in so damn long and I’m not sure I’m getting any closer to it with every passing day.
I put so much time into my apprenticeship and then working that I lost touch with a lot of people from school. I doubt those friendships could have lasted anyway, but still. The the guys I work with aren’t my friends. I’ve tried being friends with some of my clients, here and there, but there’s a line in the sand I’ve drawn between us to keep things professional.
While we’re talking, I can feel eyes on me, but I ignore it, even though Amelia’s eyes light up and her gaze keeps going over my shoulder. When it’s my turn to get us a round of drinks, she gives me a knowing smirk before I can head over to the bar.
The moment I turn around, I’m met with aquamarine eyes and a chiseled jaw with a hint of scruff on it. Then there are the muscles the long sleeved henley the man is wearing underneath his leather cut can’t hide from my gaze. It’s the same man I noticed at the bar earlier, but I didn’t look twice at him then. Now I can’t seem to look away.
My legs feel like jelly as I move toward him, not even realizing he’s pulling me in like a magnet. This shit can’t be normal. When was the last time I felt this kind of instant attraction to a man?
I swallow hard and force myself to stand next to him at the bar instead of walking right between his spread thighs. That would be too forward and fucking strange. Right? Yeah, for sure it would be. That would not be normal behavior.
I’m pretty sure.
Honestly, now that I’m standing next to him and take in the leather with a hint of the ocean scent I’m getting from him, my mind is getting foggier with every breath I take. I try and shake it off as I flash a grin at the bartender.
“Darlin’,” the man drawls next to me, and I find myself, again, looking into his eyes. I’m entranced by the color of them and the way flecks of blue and green interact to create something magical, something I’ve never seen before.
When his mouth kicks up into a small smirk, I realize I’ve been staring at him. And for far too long. “Hi,” I squeak and immediately wish I could run away.
His eyes sparkle with something like amusement, but they’re soft like he’s not judging me. He leans a little closer to me, and while I should want to put distance between us, it’s the last thing I want. “I’ve been watching you for a while, Darlin’,” he drawls. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he admits, his voice dropping conspiratorially.
My eyes widen and my cheeks heat with his words. When was the last time I blushed? I’ve hardened myself from reacting to the guys at the shop where I work because they’re crass just to try and get a reaction out of me. One compliment from this man and I’m turning pink?
Holy hell.
I glance at him and take in the name stitched on his cut. Driller. I don’t know if I should scrunch up my nose at his road name or if I should be curious. Probably a little bit of both.
