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“I know what you’re thinking. Get your arse in there, unless there’s something preventing you from talking to our tenant that you’d like to share with the class?” She knew exactly what to say to shut down the argument. I’d rather take the damn mail than fill her in on how I was feeling about going next door.
“No issue,” I replied.
“Well, good then. Off you go.”
I stomped over to the internal doorway between our magic shop and the tattoo shop, Wizards of Ink, and then my pace slowed right down. Check to see if he has a client, wouldn’t want to interrupt, I thought. Or maybe a client would be good, I could just drop this on the front desk.
“Hey, Tess.”
My head jerked up and I forced myself to walk through the doorway, real casual. I was doing it too until I tripped over the batten that smoothed the transition between the carpet on our side and the tiles on theirs. Smoothed for everyone but someone like me. I yelped, Flea looking up from the drawing he was working on, almost getting to his feet as my arms flailed around, trying to keep myself from falling flat on my face. “I’m OK, it’s OK,” I said.
Therese? Miazydar trotted in behind me. What happened?
Let’s just say my agility and grace was heavily, heavily augmented by Nan’s spell when we met. My dragon looked around sniffing the floor, looking for the obstacle, any obstacle, to explain my behaviour. Yeah, I was at a loss as well.
“Here—”
“Have a seat—”
We both laughed, having begun to speak at the same time. “After you,” I said.
“Sit down. I’m just finishing this off.”
Dammit, I thought, sliding into the chair opposite his. I’d hoped to dump the letters and run, but speaking up wasn’t my style.
“So, how’ve you been?”
God, that’s awkward. He’d been stuck in an alternate dimension full of sentient animals and watched a friend get beaten to a bloody pulp because of my stupidity. This earned me a twisted smile and a glance up from his drawing, a thousand unspoken words seemingly communicated in that look, something I could spend a lifetime trying to decipher. “You’ve got some mail,” I said and pushed it across the table. He straightened up and reached for it, his long slender fingers grazing mine as they did so.
I sucked in a breath, my eyes trained on his hand. They were nimble things, those fingers able to pluck the most incredible sensations from my body. I had been drunk, my head spinning slightly, but it had been hard to know if the haze was brought on by his slow, drugging kisses or the alcohol. He stopped, his hand just millimetres away, his eyes boring into mine. Something changing there, breaking out of a self-imposed case, unfurling, reaching out. His mouth opened as if he would, what? Ask about the night we slept together? Ask about what had happened since?
“So what are you drawing?” I said, slapping a smile on my face and forcing a cheery tone.
That broke the mood. He straightened up and swallowed, his smile not as wide, but was as polite. He spun the artwork around, waiting for me to take a look. My eyes dropped down dutifully and there on the white page was an image of a tall, strong woman, a great winged beast flapping in the background. She looked like she’d just slammed down her spear in defiance of whatever had caught her faraway stare. M ambled over, putting his head on the glass tabletop. He’s talented, this
man thing of yours.
He’s not my man thing, guy, you know what I mean.
His heart beats faster when you are near. His blood pressure rises and I think he is experiencing some tumescence—
Do not finish that statement, please.
Very well, I tell you this because your family has experienced sexual assault at the hands of other men. With all of the man things that are coming and going in your life, I want you to be aware of those who have designs on you so that you can decide whether or not you wish to encourage or discourage their attentions. The violation your sister endured will never happen while I remain.
I looked at the dog; I wanted to rub his ears or pat his head, but he hated that most of the time. Probably because he had to endure almost everyone babbling baby talk at him as they did so. You are my heart, M. He blinked slowly to show he understood.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
He was about to reply but the door opened with a tingle. A gorgeous girl walked in, all long lean limbs and a waist-length fall of dark hair that faded to a deep blue on the ends. She had a full sleeve tattoo on one arm and a partial on her other. Her smile was dazzling as she saw the two of us. “Hi, I’m Sable. I’m your 9 o’clock?”
“Yep, come through, Sable. I’ve got your design ready for you. Let me know what you think. We can adjust it now, but not once the needle starts.”
“Wow, that’s gorgeous! Her attitude, it’s just what I was looking for. You’re an amazing artist.” She was standing right next to him. Rather than take the paper in her own hands, she looked over his shoulder. Her hand rested on his arm as she complimented him earnestly.
“So are you sure you want it on the bicep? This kind of design is probably better suited to a back piece.”
“I guess I wanted to see it regularly, but I take your point. OK, let’s go with a back piece.”
