Page 3

“Just a minute,” a deep, velvety voice calls out from the back and I turn, scanning the front of the shop. The walls are a light smoky gray with black and red accents that play into the name of the shop and two black leather couches are shoved into one corner of the room. The entire wall to my left is filled with framed flash art, everything from skulls to flowers, and various other paintings are scattered on the other three walls. Some of them I recognize from local artists and my chest tightens at the thought of picking up a brush and painting again. I miss it so much but I also know focusing on the pain will only ruin the good mood I walked into this shop with.

“Can I help you?” the same velvet voice asks, much closer this time, and I jump, slamming my hand down on my heart as I turn toward the sound just in time to see the single hottest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on, laughing at me. Oh my God… this is Moe’s nephew? “Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to scare you.”

His piercing blue gaze focuses on me and the amused curiosity dancing in his eyes quickens my pulse.

“Sorry. I was kind of lost in thought.”

He nods, an easy grin pulling one side of his mouth up. “Not a problem. What can I do for you?”

My mind snaps to a dirty place in an instant, thinking of all the things I wouldn’t object to him doing for me.

Jesus, Emma.

Get a freaking grip.

“Um, I’m Emma. Moe said he called you?” Recognition dawns in his eyes and he stiffens, squaring his large shoulders as his gaze loses its warmth. I’m amazed by the similarities between him and Moe. Both men have the same large build except Phoenix obviously spends time in the gym, his muscles nicely defined.

“Yeah, he did. What is it you were looking to get?”

I pull the design I drew last night out of my back pocket and set it down on the counter. He grabs it, studying the intricate crown I designed along with the phrase “love is not enough” scrawled underneath. It’s just a sketch but it’s the first thing I’ve been able to draw in months so I’m incredibly pleased with it.

“I love this design. Where did you find it?” he asks, studying my drawing.

“Oh, I drew it.”

His eyes widen and his gaze flicks up to me, that damn curiosity lighting them up again and heat rushes through my body before settling in my cheeks. He looks down at the paper again and sighs.

“Where do you want to put it?”

I point to the inside of my wrist. “Right here.”

“Well, I fucking love it but it’s way too intricate to do that small. Do you want to put it somewhere else?”

I bite down on my lip and stare down at my wrist. Ever since I had the idea to get a tattoo, I just imagined it going there and no matter how hard I try, I can’t picture it anywhere else.

“Do you have a pencil and a piece of paper?” I ask, peeking up at him. His gaze is locked on me, boring into me in a way that makes me shift in front of him.

“Is the sky blue?” he asks with a laugh as he reaches below the counter and pulls out a notepad and a pencil before offering them to me. With a smile, I get to work, simplifying the design I did last night and the entire time I’m working, I can feel Phoenix’s gaze on me. When I finish, I push the notepad toward him and meet his eyes. He grins at me and I feel my cheeks heat even more as I glance away.

“How about that?”

He finally tears his gaze away from me to glance down at the notepad and his grin turns into a full on megawatt smile that knocks the air out of my lungs. “Now, this, I can work with. You sure about the quote?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask, cautious since the meaning of the quote is not something that I really want to delve into.

He shrugs. “Just seems really personal, is all.”

“Isn’t that the point of tattoos? To get something that really means something to you?”

Phoenix chuckles and nods his head. “Yeah, it is but you wouldn’t believe how many stupid shit I’ve tattooed on people just because they thought it was funny for a week or it looked nice.”

“Oh, now that I would believe. I see evidence of it every day while working at the bar.”

His demeanor cools a little as he nods and I wonder what it is about his uncle that upsets him so much. Moe has always been amazing to my family so I have a hard time imagining what could have happened to make Phoenix react like that.

“Follow me.” He turns and walks over to the doorway that leads to the back of the shop and I can’t take my eyes off him as he pushes the curtain to the side, the ripple of his muscles evident even through the thin material of his t-shirt. My gaze drops to his arm where he is covered in tattoos, some black and gray and others full of color. I want to study them, trace over each one with my finger and unlock the pieces of this man who is making me feel things I never thought I’d feel again. Shaking my head, I blow out a breath because I really cannot be thinking like this.

It’s been a year since I left him and I haven’t even thought about dating until this very moment. Well, I guess that’s not entirely true. I have thought about dating as a far off concept. Something I might do, someday in the future. Now, though, I find myself wondering what it would be like to go out on a date with Phoenix. After all I’ve been through, I know I should probably just swear off men altogether, but I’ve always liked to think I’m a fairly reasonable person and I can’t feasibly conclude all men are bad. In fact, I know several that prove the statement wrong. The problem is, I don’t know whom to trust anymore. After everything I’ve been through, I can’t tell the hero from the villain. So, as much as I might want that special, intimate connection with someone, I remain frozen in fear.