Bard above ^^ Hubba Hubba

Chapter 30

I shuffled my feet and chewed my bottom lip. It was an awkward feeling. One minute I'm on the verge of a hormone overload, and the next I'm witnessing something that seemed a bit too personal. Definitely too intimate for me to just keep standing there gawking at Bard's back. Should I go inside?

Yes, idiot. You should go inside.

I took a step back, then another, then... froze.

Amber pulled back, eyes shiny with tears, but that wasn't what made me pause. It was the way she looked up at him. Not friendly. Not in the least. Before I knew it, I was holding my breath. Suspicions rose up like steam around me, and I waited.

"I couldn't get ahold of you, so I just... came. I needed you, Bard. I... I've missed you so much." Her voice broke, and she cupped his face.

Bard stood immobile, staring down at her. I couldn't see his face, and for once, I wished I could. I wished I could get a glimpse of those freaky eyes and see if they cut the same when they looked at her.

But I didn't need to.

She lifted up onto tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.

Mother fucker.

I turned away and stormed inside.

He's got a fucking girlfriend.

I didn't need that kind of drama. I had enough of my own. That wasn't me. Here he was, pursuing me like the devil himself, and all the time, he had a girl waiting for him. A better looking girl. Hell, she looked ready to take on the whole wilderness with him. It was a match made in heaven.

I hated her for it, which was stupid. I couldn't be jealous. In order to be jealous, you'd need to actually want a man, and I definitely didn't.

Not me. Nope. No men. Singular entity. This was good. A good thing. Bard had a girlfriend, and no matter what had kept them apart, she was back now. She could occupy him. He wouldn't be so focused on me.

He could have a new distraction.

A shower, that would be good. I just needed a shower. My chest felt tight. A pulled muscle. That must be it. I rubbed the area and took a deep breath. I pulled a muscle while we were fighting.

The clock on the wall read ten o'clock. I had an hour to get ready. I get to tattoo. I clung to that thought, tried to focus solely on it and not on the murmured hush of voices I could hear coming from behind the RV.

They dulled to nothing when I turned on the shower, and I tried not to think about it when I stepped inside. It didn't matter. This was just proof. He was a man. He was just an ordinary, asshole of a man. No different from any other. This was a blessing. An eye opener before I took it too far.

I stepped out, wrapped myself in a towel, then set to blow drying my hair. I wanted to skip it, just go into the shop early, but regardless of my need to get away, I couldn't walk in there my first day as an artist looking like a drowned rat. I needed clients. I needed people to want my work and come back for more.

Once finished, it looked nice. Feathered kinda. I left it down, and put on the last clean outfit I had.

Another pair of shorts, and a black tank top. I was thankful for the tank top. The still healing tattoo was sensitive, and there was only so much sting a girl could take in one day.

When I stepped out the front door, Bard was getting into the Camaro.

Amber already sat inside of it.

Oh, good. He's going with her. They're leaving, together. That's great.

He saw me and paused with his body only part way inside. "We'll finish the lesson later?" he asked, eyes taking in my hair before resting on my face.

I noticed Amber's expression and fought back a cringe. "I think I'm going to ask Zeke to show me. You said he helped teach you, right?"

Bard's jawbone jumped. He started towards me, but Amber said something that pulled his attention back to her.

His jaw clenched again. "We'll talk about it later." He climbed the rest of the way inside and revved the engine to life.

I offered him a tight lipped smile. No we wouldn't. There was nothing to talk about. If he thought for one minute he could dip his hands all in my cookie jar when he had a cake waiting in the fridge he had another damn thing coming. Hell, my cookies weren't even available. My cookies were burnt and hard and more suitable for the trash.

Why the hell am I standing here thinking about cookies!

Work. I needed get my ass to work and do what it was I was there for.

I made a beeline for the shop, and once inside, found Zeke standing at the counter. I rushed towards him. "I'm ready to start tattooing,"I said, but the tone I used would have been more suitable if I was robbing the place. I cleared my throat. "I mean, I'm ready."

Zeke cocked an eyebrow at me, then pointed to the station between his and Scarlet's. "Your station."

I nodded and walked the few steps to sit on my stool. "How long usually before people start coming in?"

"Shouldn't be too much longer." Zeke copied my movements and took a seat in his own chair. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. "How you feelin'?"

I studied the concern in his expression. Of course. I killed a man the night before. You'd think that would have been enough to keep my mind away from other, far less important, things. "I'm okay." It was true. I was as good as I'd ever been. Which was shit, but it wasn't anything new to me. Just another fucking disaster to add to the many others.

"If you need to talk about it," he kept his voice low, "you can come to me. Killing a man does things to a person's mind." He spoke like someone with experience, and I remembered the story he'd told me on my first day.

I gave him a small smile and nodded. "I'll be sure to do that."

Zeke patted my shoulder just as the doorbell chimed.

Boe walked in, beard freshly trimmed, hair pulled tight at the back of his head. In a fitted white t-shirt and dark blue jeans, the man was enough to make any woman turn her head. He'd taken some time today. Put in some effort.

I narrowed my eyes. Why?

His attention centered on me. "I'm first."

"First what?"

"I want a tattoo."

I swallowed hard as he pulled himself up onto the table and leaned forward, smile wide. "I've been looking forward to it."

Zeke snorted and turned his back to the both of us.

Boe's grin turned cat-like as his gaze shifted to his lap, then not-so-subtly over his shoulder at Zeke. When he looked back at me, he bit his lip. "I was thinking something old school." He gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head without a moment's pause.

Damn.

He was all man. I'd give him that much. Not an ounce of fat. But while Bard and Zeke carried mounds of muscle, Boe was all sinew. Sleek lines, clear skin. Beautiful art that only worked to enhance what he already had.

"Across my chest." He motioned to the spot just above his heart. His smile dwindled into something less roguish and more sad. "A heart with the word mom above it. A little blue jay. My mama always liked those."

Damn.

People who cherished their mother's always appealed to me. Perhaps because I'd never had one.

"Alright." I turned away and started sketching.

The table creaked behind me as Boe got more comfortable, and I could practically feel his eyes burning a hole into my back. He said old school. That meant clean lines with a clip art style. It looked basic in its simplicity, but it was actually one of the hardest things to do. I had to be precise. I had to keep a steady hand.

When I finally finished up the sketch, I turned and handed it to him.

Boe looked it over, eyes lifting to my face every few seconds as he examined what I'd come up with. "The way you sketch is effortless. It would have taken me hours to make what you just did in minutes."

My skin heated. "So, that's good? No changes?"

"I wouldn't change a thing."

I cleared my throat and set about the task of transferring it to his skin.

Boe's eyes never left my face, not even after I started tattooing. The spot he chose forced me to place my arm across his midsection, while the rest of me sat precariously close to... the rest of him.

I never got lost in the art. How could I? While he wasn't as intense as Bard, he was still a man. An attractive man, and I was a deprived woman who'd had a golden Adonis dangled in front of her for several days.

"So... your mother?" I asked, needing to break the tension. The muscles in my neck and shoulders felt ready to snap, and my arm kept wanting to shake no matter how hard I fought to stay still.

Boe was quiet a moment. "She's gone."

I took a moment to wipe the blood away and peeked up at his grim expression. "She must have been something special."

He grinned. "Oh, she was that alright. She was something else."

I smiled back at him, then turned back to the work.

"She was hell if you got on her bad side. Five-foot nothing and all fire. I watched her yank a guy off the back of a dirt bike one day for spraying gravel on her car. Not an ounce of shame." He hummed. "But she was also kind. Loved babies. Kids. Not just hers, but anybody's. She helped raise so many damn kids, I couldn't even tell you how many nieces and nephews she has."

"Wish I'd had someone like that when I was young." I wiped again and moved onto the wings of the bird.

I felt his attention return to my face again. "You'd have probably deserved her a lot more than I did."

I looked up at him. "What makes you say that?"

Boe stared at me, face blank and lips thin. When he didn't speak, I returned to the tattoo and let the question go.

We sat in silence for a while, him still staring and me doing my best to finish as quickly as possible without being sloppy.

"When she died, I was locked up."

My gaze shot back up to him.

"Despite everything she ever did for me, I decided to go off and be my father. I decided to be a junkie." His voice was raw. "When they laid her in the ground, I was thirty days into a ninety day sentence. She died with worry in her heart for me, and I couldn't even get furlough to say goodbye."

I almost said I was sorry, knowing damn well how stupid those were. Apologies didn't change anything. They didn't make it better. People died. People fucked up. I knew that better than anybody. "You're not a junkie now."

Boe's brows lifted. "No. I'm not."

"So, you got clean. That's not an easy thing to do."

"It's not." His expression softened. "I had to. When I got out, I left. Came up here. Found this job. Got my shit straight. But it's never gonna feel like enough. She's already gone. I'm trying to fix a ship that's already sailed."

"I don't think so." I wiped the piece and started filling it in.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." I dipped into the red ink and swirled it into the heart. "I mean, yeah, you fucked up. Real bad. I should know, I do that shit all the time. But you're not fucking up right now." I wiped it all down, leaned away from him, then motioned to the finished piece. "You're honoring her."

Boe looked down at his chest, then hopped off the table and stepped over to  the mirror.

Zeke turned to get a look as well then clasped a hand onto Boe's shoulder. "Did I find us a good one, or what?"

Boe looked over at me. "Yeah. You really did."

I rolled my eyes and grinned.

Boe stepped back over and stood while I finished cleaning and wrapping him up. "You got some fresh ink too, huh?" He pointed to my shoulder.

My smile faltered. "Yep. Just did that yesterday."

He took in my reaction and didn't comment further. "Well, Jessie. Thank you." Next thing I knew, his arms were around me.

I stood stiff. Mainly because he still hadn't bothered to put his shirt back on.

Then the front door chimed, and I peered over his shoulder to see an equally stiff looking Bard. Amber stood right behind him, her hand clutching his bicep.

Boe rumbled a dark laugh. "Look who it is."

Bard didn't smile. He didn't make any expression at all. Instead, he took one look at Boe, at the arm he, for some reason, still had holding me, and walked over to us. Amber lost her grip and lingered by the door.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked Boe, not even bothering to acknowledge me.

I had a bad feeling. An intuition. For all I knew, his reason for wanting to talk had nothing to do with me, but something told me it did. I looked at Amber. He couldn't be fucking serious. How dare he try to interfere when he had a girl right behind him.

I wasn't interested in Boe, for the same reason I wasn't interested in Bard. But if he thought for one second it was any of his damn business...

"Actually..." I broke free and tugged Boe towards the table. "I need to have another look at this."

Bard's jaw clenched.

Mother fucker. It was about me.

Boe's lips twisted. He looked between the two of us, then settled his gaze on me. "Did you forget an m? I could have sworn they were both there."

A traitorous smile broke free, and I tiptoed up to his ear. "He looks ready to eat you. I figured I'd slow him down a bit."

His eyes danced. He cut a look over his shoulder, back to where Bard had retreated. He was talking in hushed angry whispers with his uncle, who looked more than amused by whatever he was saying..

"And you wanted to make sure I... what? Wouldn't get scared off?"

I shrugged and focused on his tattoo. "No. I wanted to make sure he didn't scare you off." I looked at him. "If anyone's going to do that, it will be me."

Boe's smile widened as he leaned forward. "Don't worry, Jessie. Bard doesn't scare me."

"Don't go getting any ideas."

His eyes glittered. "I'm generally pretty full of ideas. You could call me an idea man."

I snorted. "Go away."

"Can't do that. I work here. Plus, I'm gonna need some more tattoos. I'm thinking no one else is gonna cut it after seeing what you're capable of."

I grinned. Couldn't argue with the prospect of making money. "Now, that, I can get on board with."

Hope you enjoyed! Next upload tomorrow!