it was like watching magic happen.
A few lines in, and somehow, she’d perfected the neat-as-a-pin bob that looked as though it had required a ruler to cut it. And Bridges’ mom’s smile? With that slightly goofy edge to the right side of her mouth? She perfected that with barely any work at all.
I knew her style, had seen it before. I’d even seen the portfolio she’d put together for her exams, and had watched her gather the pieces required for the entrance requirements to the colleges she’d applied to, but watching her do this with a tattoo in mind?
All of a sudden, it was like she was talking my language and I just got where she was coming from.
After five minutes, I knew there was no way Bridges was going to take on my portrait. I’d stopped working on mine, but I’d finish it, just so he’d have a choice. But no one would take mine over hers. No one.
I could see exactly where I’d use shadow and grayscale to create the shading she was being cautious with adding. From her style, I knew she’d prefer watercolor, but Bridges was a black and grey lover who preferred realism to anything vaguely feminine.
As I watched her work, my hard-on made a reappearance. How couldn’t I be turned on? Her talent and flair combined, and she exuded a joy as she drew that was irresistible to me. It also made me wonder if this wasn’t where her talents lay. I’d teach her to ink, but fuck, that would take years before she was ready to even go near anything other than oranges and pigskin to practice on…
I couldn’t see her appreciating the pigskin option, but it was the closest to human skin, and that was how I’d been trained and I intended on teaching her what I had learned.
Still, if that didn’t work out, there was no denying her skill as an artist, and with mine as a tattoo artist? We’d be a knockout.
❖
Saint
The second we pulled up at the clubhouse, Keys muttered to his sister, “I’ll take you to Lucie.”
Kenzie didn’t exactly look overjoyed at the prospect, because Lucie liked very few people and Kenzie wasn’t one of them. Still, she trudged along after him once he’d shot me a look and said, “I’ll be five minutes. Wait for me?”
I only nodded, knowing full well where we were going—the tattoo parlor.
I wanted the details on when that had happened. We’d gone from dealing with the fact that Ama wasn’t going to go to RISD one day, to the fact she was working at the parlor. Sure, I guessed it was a good fit considering her gifts, but…
My nose wrinkled as I thought about her working with Ink. Anyone with fucking eyes knew how she felt about him. He was her goddamn hero, and even if I was jealous, I had to be grateful to the bastard for saving her. He’d been the one to end that cunt Sanchez, and he’d been the one, in her eyes, who’d been her savior.
Still, the idea of them working together all the time?
Yeah, it rubbed me raw, especially since I’d decided to stop fucking around and make my move. The feeling that it might be too goddamn late was unnerving, and the five minutes I had to wait while Keys sorted out his sister felt way too long.
When he returned, his face was tightly lined with irritation.
“What’s wrong?” I called out.
“She just pisses me off.”
I blinked at him. “What did she say?”
“Asked me if I was going to go panting after Ama.”
“What the hell happened? She flinched at every second noise, and now she’s being a bitch again?” We stared at one another for a second. “Think she played us?”
“Can’t play those bruises,” he rasped, running a hand over his head. “Fuck, I feel like a bastard for even questioning this shit, but something ain’t right. She pulled a complete one-eighty.”
She’d done more than that.
Jesus.
From cowering to catty in less than a day, it was beyond messed up.
“Fuck, Lucifer is gonna be pissed if—”
“Both Lucifers are gonna be pissed,” Keys grumbled. “Where’d the Prez go, anyway?”
“Headed straight to the clubhouse. Think he wanted to clear shit with Wolfe.” I rubbed my chin. “Will probably call church soon. Get everyone on board with the potential shit storm heading our way.”
Keys blew out a breath as he absorbed that and, unsurprisingly, changed the subject, “We going to see Ama?”
“Sure are.”
I hadn’t even dismounted, so I just watched