Permanent Ink (Something to Celebrate #1) (11 page)

The only thing she could do was step back, calm herself down and think about what she
did
have control over. So she closed her eyes and imagined her list. Number one, get a car. Number two, organize the trailer. Flip those. Okay. Number three, tackle her measly budget and figure out a fund-raiser to pad it so she could do number four, plan a May Day event.

Ben’s wicked grin popped back into her head and she screwed her eyelids tight, concentrating on taking deep breaths. And a few minutes later, she had run down her list and was almost back to normal, aside from listening to the scratching and chirping in the hallway.

Heavy footfalls sounded inside the trailer and she opened her eyes. On the other side of the wall, in the kitchen, Ben coughed and said, “Son of a bitch, it stinks like shit in here.”

His voice was
so
sexy and despite what he’d said, Blair found her face growing warm again, along with other parts of her body. “Stop it,” she snapped out, looking toward her lap. “You’re sitting on a toilet in a dirty trailer, for God’s sake.”

“Blair?” Ben knocked on the wall. “You okay?”

“Sure am,” she said quickly, standing up.

“I’ll get this taken care of in a jiff,” yelled Joe.

She listened to the thump of boxes being moved, muffled curses, and a lot more chirping and scratching. A few minutes later, Joe, who she thought had his back shoved against the bathroom door since it creaked and rippled, yelled out.

“Got ’em!” A sharp metallic
clang
sounded and he grunted. “Gonna take ’em out in the woods and let ’em go.”

“Thanks, man,” Ben said. And then—“Blair?”

“Yes?” She sounded wimpy. “Yes?” she said in a stronger voice. A professional voice. Good.

“It’s all clear, Firefly.” Ben had a thread of laughter in his voice. As if the threat of being mangled by a rabid raccoon was a joke. And “Firefly” again. Did he think she was going to fall all over him because he said it in that slow, caressing way? Yes, he did.

And she enjoyed the hell out of him saying it, but he didn’t need to know that, so she grabbed the doorknob, forcing her voice to stay even. “Great. Be right out.” She tugged. The door didn’t budge. She tugged again. The door made a creaking noise.

“Hang on,” Ben said. “I’ll help you.”

“I don’t need saving today, thanks.” Gritting her teeth, Blair yanked with all her strength and stumbled backward as the knob ripped from the door. She stood there staring at it, her back against the window, when the door finally burst open.

Ben stood on the other side, his fingers around the door frame. He leaned forward with a smirk. “That worked out well.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said with a gasp, dropping the knob on the cracked linoleum floor. “Why can’t I
stop
breaking stuff in this town?” She pressed her palms against her flaming cheeks.

Ben crossed the small room and reached out to pry one of her hands away from her face. “Come on. The trailer needs to air out and you need to calm down.”

He threaded his fingers through hers, and she stared at them for a moment. His, warm and square. Hers, shaking and slender. She pulled away and folded her arms underneath her breasts. With a shrug, Ben walked back around the door and down the hallway. She followed.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

He glanced back over his shoulder. “My studio. Unless you want to go to my apartment.”

As she followed him out of the trailer into the brisk air, her gaze traveled over his hair, which brushed the top of his shoulders. And then over his back, a solid plane tapering to square hips. He paused in the alley and pointed up at a row of windows in a brick building down the alley and to the right. “It’s up there, above my studio. I have coffee.”

“Coffee sounds good,” she mumbled.

He looked back over his shoulder and grinned. “Good. Come see my place.”

She stared at him, taking shallow breaths. She wanted to see a lot more than his place. Which was a problem. So why the hell had she agreed to see anything?

Chapter Ten

Ben flipped through the keys in his hand and unlocked the front door to Skinnovations. He concentrated on the lock, which he had to, because the giddy feeling in his arms and legs was about to take over his whole body. Blair was with him, and she was going to his place, for coffee.

In the back of his fuzzy thoughts it struck him that he was officially—and completely—infatuated with her. As the realization spread through him, he stumbled, dropping the keys on the painted concrete floor. With a quick smile in her direction, he picked them up and relocked the door behind her before walking across the room to his office. “Through here,” he said.

“Okay.” She sounded calm, but not overly eager. Maybe the moment after she’d had the shit scared out of her by a wild animal in a nest hadn’t been an appropriate time to lure her to his own den. It wasn’t as if he planned to attack her, though. This was casual coffee, and they could talk about…about…

“I’d like to look over the paperwork for Ink Fest,” she said. “And the plans you’ve made.”

Plans? What plans? All he had was what Grizz had given him, but he probably should have at least made some notes by now. He’d been to a few tattoo conventions, but it never occurred to him to pay attention to the nuts-and-bolts operation of the events. So he nodded at her.

“Of course. That’s why I invited you over,” he said in a way-too-reassuring manner. Damn it, he’d been going for casual and friendly, but he sounded like a predator, anyway.

Except he wasn’t a wolf wearing a granny cap and Blair wasn’t Little Red Riding Hood. Although she could be. He glanced at her amazing hair, which was loose, but pulled away from her forehead in a barrette. Wisps framed her face, and her eyes were watchful. He turned away and fumbled through his keys again.

“My place is upstairs.” After unlocking a door in the corner of his office, he swung it open to reveal a wooden staircase and gestured for her to precede him.

She skirted past him and hadn’t taken three steps before sharp barks echoed down the stairs. Oh, crap. He’d forgotten about Julie, which wouldn’t be too hard since he’d been a dog owner for all of two days. Hopefully Blair wasn’t scared of dogs.

But with only an instant’s hesitation, she continued up the staircase, her hips swaying slightly. He stared at them with hunger, loving the way the jeans dipped at the back of her waist and stretched over the curve of her ass. She should wear those old, tight jeans every day of the week. Her hair bounced in time with her steps, and Ben visualized her breasts doing the same thing. They probably were bouncing, because they were full and soft-looking. Not gigantic, but ample enough to scoop into his palms and lift so that he could nestle his face between them.

At that thought, blood rushed low in his body and he began to swell. His eyes still on her, he reached down to adjust the fly of his jeans and clutched the keys in his other hand until they bit into his palms. Now was not the time to pop wood. He wasn’t a perv, for God’s sake.

At the top of the stairs, Blair hesitated again for a second before walking into his living room. As he watched her, she looked around the long, narrow room at the brick wall and gleaming oak floor. She glanced over the opposite wall of bookcases and cluster of sofas, smiling slightly at the huge, framed print of an electric-blue Matisse nude.

Julie ran over, her toenails clicking on the floor. She stood in front of Blair expectantly, her little brown-and-white head cocked to one side.

“Hi there,” Blair said, stooping down. The dog sniffed her for a few seconds and then looked up again, her brown eyes questioning. “Who are you?”

“This is Julie,” Ben said. “She’s a dachshund…kind of. I’m not actually sure. A woman in town who went to live at Sunnyside needed someone to take her, so I volunteered.”

Blair stroked Julie’s head. “That was nice of you. She’s cute, and I think mutts are the cutest.” Julie bumped Blair’s hand again and whined.

“She wants you to give her a treat,” Ben explained. He bent to scoop the little fur ball into his arms. She nuzzled his neck for a moment and then looked at Blair. So did Ben. In fact, he couldn’t quit looking at her.

“You and your dog have the same color eyes.” Blair smiled. “Random. But true. Chocolate-brown eyes.” She glanced around again. “Uh, I’ll be happy to give her a treat. I want to wash the trailer off my hands first.”

“Bathroom’s over there. Through the bedroom.” Ben pointed at the only doorway breaking up the long brick wall in the apartment. Then before he could allow himself to watch her go into his bedroom—something he’d thought about too many times to count in the last couple of days—he turned and walked past the top of the stairs and through the archway into the kitchen.

He put Julie down on the rug in front of the sink and turned on the coffeemaker. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the trash can, overflowing with last night’s spontaneous party. Quickly, he lifted the corners of the trash bag and tied them shut as Blair wandered back into the living room. She gave him a brief smile and then stood by the kitchen window, looking down at the alley.

“That trailer is a hunk of junk,” she said. “Do you think the mayor knows what bad shape it’s in?”

Ben turned from the counter and smiled back at her, fascinated by how the light threw her delicate profile into relief. He could sketch a quick picture of her, exactly like that. His fingers were restless.

“Do you mean to say that you wonder if Ivy gave you a hellhole for an office unintentionally?”

Blair twisted her luscious mouth and crinkled her nose in a grimace. “Yeah. Because I can’t work there. At least not the way it is now.”

“I don’t blame you.” He raised the handle of the coffeemaker, snapped a little plastic tub of coffee in place, and closed it. Two seconds later, hot liquid streamed into a ceramic mug. “Why don’t you ask her for an office in city hall?”

Blair examined the ends of her hair. “I’m not sure I want to work there, either. Seems like the interruptions aren’t worth the relative comfort, and she’s right about having all the supplies at my fingertips in the trailer. I like that aspect. But I can’t have wild animals for office mates.”

He handed her the mug and reached in the cabinet for dog treats, feeding one to Julie. He gave Blair another and watched as she bent down and offered the little bone-shaped treat to the dog on her outstretched palm. He loved watching her, no matter what she was doing. And if she was unhappy here in Celebration, she might leave. He didn’t want her to leave.

“I’ll clean the trailer,” he said suddenly.

“You don’t need to do that,” Blair responded, her gaze still on the dog. “It’s on my—”

“List,” he finished. “I know. But I’m your…assistant and I’m happy to help.”

Slowly, she nodded but then shook her head. “Thanks, but I have an organization system, and it would be easier if I did it myself.” She stood up and brushed her palm on her thigh.

“There’s that,” he said carefully, “but don’t forget, there’s Ink Fest, too.”

“I didn’t forget,” she said. “So about that. Why don’t you explain the basics, and I’ll look over things. That way I can make some suggestions and see if you like them.”

He probably
would
like them, because she made them. But he bet his ass that Starling wouldn’t like them, not one bit. It was probably for the best that she and Grizz had gone back to Syracuse last night. But it hadn’t been until after all the beer in his fridge and the half a fifth of gin in his freezer had been consumed.

He cleared his throat. “So you’re not going to bring up the dates again and…” He stopped. “Never mind.” He smiled at her.

She smiled back and glanced down at her mug. “No, I’m not going to bring up the Fourth of July. Good coffee.”

His fingers itched again, this time to take the coffee out of her hands and lead her into his bedroom, where he could unbind her hair, run his fingers through the softness, and lower his mouth to her lips. When she glanced back up, he saw the same desire in her lovely eyes. He took a step forward. She didn’t back up, but her breasts rose and fell under that thin shirt when she let out a sigh. That did it.

He crossed the small space and took her mug, setting it on the windowsill. Her hands flew up to his shoulders and his to her hips as he pulled her up and against him.

“Blair,” he muttered and then covered her lips with his. Even though the dog began to bark and trot around their feet, he kissed her, coaxing her soft lips open as he pressed her back against the window, tasting the sweetness of her mouth.

Dimly, he was aware that Julie had plunked her fat little body between their feet, but he leaned closer, brushing his mouth over Blair’s silky throat. He felt her hands slide up his shoulders and twist in his hair. She tugged his head up and sighed into his mouth, the tip of her tongue sampling his lips. He surged forward, his tongue twining with hers as his hands pressed into the dip of her waist and then rose, over her rib cage and higher. His thumbs caressed the swell of her breasts. So warm, so sweet, and he groaned—the need to fill his palms with them close to overwhelming. He was incredibly hard and he rocked against her, pressing himself against her belly.

“Ben,” she said, gasping, dragging her mouth away. She stared at him, her eyes half closed and her mouth open. “I want—”

He kissed her again and rocked some more, gratified when she moaned into his shoulder. “Ohh. I want, too,” he murmured into the delicate curve of her ear. Trailing kisses over her jaw, he buried his face in her neck and moved his hands to her ass, lifting her higher before lodging himself fully against her.

She groaned loudly then and her head dropped back against the windowpane. “Oh my
God
,” she whispered as her hands fell away from his hair. A second later, the coffee mug crashed to the floor and Julie yipped, scrambling away from their feet.

“Oh my God!” Blair repeated, this time almost a shriek. “I scalded your dog!”

Ben staggered backward, setting Blair on her feet. He looked down at Julie, who sat a few feet away on the living room floor, perfectly dry, but very disdainful. “No, you didn’t. She’s fine,” he said.

But Blair stepped around him and went to her knees next to Julie. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The dog raised her bulgy little eyes to Blair’s face and let out a yip, and then a swiping lick across Blair’s cheek. Blair’s face snapped back and despite the painful throb in his crotch, Ben chuckled.

“She likes you,” he said.

Blair wiped at her face with the back of her hand. “That’s good. I think.” Glancing at rivers of coffee on the kitchen floor, she sprang to her feet. “Where are your paper towels?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ben stopped her, his hands on her shoulders. For a split second, he almost pulled her against his body again, but the frozen look on her face stopped him. She wasn’t ready. She wanted him, but she wasn’t ready. “I…think you should go,” he heard himself say. “Before—”

“We do something we will regret later,” she interrupted. “Yes. Good thinking.” Avoiding his eyes, she took a couple of steps toward the staircase. “Thanks for the coffee and sorry about the mess. I’ve been knocking stuff over a lot lately.” She spoke rapidly. “Almost forgot. Do you have the paperwork for Ink Fest?”

He
had
forgotten, but nodded and went to a bookshelf and retrieved the folder Grizz had given him. When he handed it to her, she turned with a quick smile and started down the stairs.

“Wait,” he said, following her and grabbing her hand. She didn’t pull away, so that was a good sign, at least.

“What, Ben?” She walked back up and faced him.

“It’s
not
something we will regret.” She had to know that. Had to feel it like he did, didn’t she?

“There’s every reason why we should, and then some,” she said quietly.

“Besides the fact that we’re working together, what regrets? Are you involved with someone?” He hadn’t thought she was, but then again…why wouldn’t she be? She was beautiful. There was probably a boyfriend back in New York City.

She turned to him and squeezed his hand. “No. I’m not involved with anyone.”

She hesitated for another moment and then stared into his eyes.

“I don’t want to sleep with you, Ben.”

…

Before Ben could respond, Blair turned from the stunned expression on his face and jogged down the steps, her teeth clamped tight. Dumb. And
damn
. Why had she blurted it out that way? Okay, okay, she knew why…because she
did
want to sleep with him in the worst way. Every bit of her instincts were begging her to do it.

Her instincts were usually spot-on, too, and that’s what scared her. Because they knew—and her mind did, too—that with Ben, it would be different. It wouldn’t be emotionless and disappointing. It would change her life, wouldn’t it? Suddenly, she wanted to go back up there and look into his eyes again to make sure she was right.

But she’d known him for a handful of days, and that alone was enough to make her pause despite her gut, which told her—no, screamed at her—that she would
not
regret giving herself to him. There was too much risk. He worked for her. She worked for him. Jesus. And at some point in the future she would be leaving, wouldn’t she? At the bottom of the staircase, she hesitated for a second, listening. No sound came from upstairs, so she shut the door softly behind her, walked through his studio, unbolted the door and escaped into the chilly, misty air.

Sunlight broke through the clouds and little patches dappled the sidewalk. Blair walked toward one of them, shivering. April mornings were a hell of a lot colder up here than they were in New York City. She only hoped that by next weekend’s event, people wouldn’t be wearing coats while they danced around the Maypole. Pole danced. She snickered for a moment and then shook herself. Yikes.

“You okay, honey? Where’s your coat?”

Blair turned and looked at Debbie, who stood in the doorway of her shop. The little woman shoved her glasses on—today they were encrusted in purple rhinestones. She wore a ruffled apron with a winking pig, whose snout was also sparkling in the weak sunlight. Blair made a mental note to ask Debbie who her rhinestone supplier was.