The Best of Winter Renshaw - An 8 Book Collection - Winter Renshaw Page 0,536

get going?”

We clean up our table and head outside to my car.

“Can you just drop me off at my brother’s work?” she asks when we pull out of the parking lot a couple minutes later. “He just texted me and said he’s going to be late picking me up, and I really don’t want to sit around there for another half hour doing nothing.”

“Of course,” I say. “I’ll have to walk you in though. And meet him. Just to be sure … not that I don’t believe you, but ...”

“I get it. You don’t have to explain,” she says.

“So where are we going?” I ask. “Do you have an address?”

“It’s called Madd Inkk,” she says.

The four little words sink my stomach and turn my blood into an ice bath. My palms moisten against the steering wheel and my throat constricts.

“It’s on Fifteenth Street,” she says. “Just off the square.”

I don’t tell her I know where that is. “All right.”

The rest of the drive there is a blur, and I run the air conditioning on full blast because I can’t stop feeling like I’m two seconds from overheating despite the fact that it's a breezy eighty-one degrees outside.

Devanie’s nose is buried in her phone. She doesn’t notice, thank goodness. And as we pull up, I remind myself that she didn’t say her brother owned Madd Inkk—just that he worked here.

We pull up to the shop and I park the car. “You ready?”

“Yep.” She climbs out, bags in tow, and darts toward the front door despite the sign outside that clearly states minors aren’t allowed in. I guess when you know someone who works there, the rules are a little more flexible?

She’s already inside before I so much as reach for the door handle, and I peer in through the glass just in time to see her disappear in the back, behind a drawn curtain.

By the time I step inside, Devanie emerges from the back … dragging a dark-haired Adonis by the hand as she makes her way to me.

“Brighton, this is my brother, Madden,” she says. “Madden, tell her you’re my brother.”

“Hi.” There’s a glint in his coffee-brown eyes and the tiniest hint of a smirk on his full lips. His hands move to his hips and he studies me.

“Tell her,” Devanie says, nudging him.

“You’re Dev’s mentor?” he asks.

“I am.” My insides fill with swarms of butterflies at the mere sound of his velvet-smooth voice.

Devanie looks between the two of us. “Do you two … know … each other?”

He doesn’t answer. And maybe he can’t. Maybe there’s some kind of confidentiality or non-disclosure policy in place. So I do.

“I was here a few weeks back,” I say. “Your brother did my tattoo.”

Devanie splays her hands out. “Wait. You have a tattoo? You?”

I chuckle. “A small one. Hidden. But yes.”

Her jaw falls.

“Anyway,” I say, returning my gaze to Madden. “She asked me to drop her off here instead of at the club. I hope that’s all right?”

He licks his lips; his attention hasn’t left me once this entire time. “Yeah.”

“I should get going,” I say. Heat creeps up my neck and if I stick around any longer, something tells me it’s going to be deathly obvious that I’m growing more flustered by the minute in his presence. “See you Thursday, Devanie. Same time?”

“Yep!” She gives me a hug and I leave, making damn sure I don’t knock my head against the door on my way out this time.

By the time I get to my car, I’m running on sheer adrenaline while simultaneously floating on a breeze. I resist the urge to glance back at Madd Inkk as I drive past, on the off chance that he’s watching from the window—not that he would. I highly doubt I’m remotely close to his type.

I tried my hardest to keep my cool in there, but you never can tell what other people are going to pick up on.

For all I know, the fact that just standing in front of him was getting me all hot and bothered might as well have been broadcasting across my forehead in big, bold letters.

Taking a deep breath, I grip the steering wheel and continue home … with a giant smile on my face … because I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot more of him after this.

Fourteen

Madden

* * *

“You know child labor is illegal in this country.” Devanie spins in a swivel stool in my back room. Since she insisted on having her mentor drop her off at the