Tattooed Troublemaker - Elise Faber Page 0,10

said that to Tig and Delia a time or hundred?”

Her lips quirked. “Maybe because I have?”

“And then Tig replies with something snarky about pipes?”

That quirk turned into a full-blown smile. “Usually it’s Delia with the snarky pipe comment.”

I laughed aloud. “Well, for once I’ll be a grown-up and pass on the pipe innuendo.”

“Too bad.”

It was the barest breath of a sound, a whisper of a noise.

But I heard it.

Just as I saw her eyes drift down toward my dick, the tip of her tongue dart out to moisten the corner of her mouth.

And yup. Hard.

Just like that.

“Charlie?”

Her eyes were still on the southern half of my body, but when I called her name, they slowly drifted up and, damn, but I was right about the blue growing darker when she was turned on.

It would be so easy to just close the distance between us, to haul her close, to slant my mouth across hers. I wondered if she’d taste like the tropics or if that scent was just embedded in her skin. Her lush body would feel incredible under my hands, and I could imagine how good the hard nipples I could see poking against the cotton of her T-shirt would feel brushing against my chest.

But . . . I was leaving in a few weeks.

All the better, my mind said. Fewer ties. Less risk when I leave.

Except, Charlie wasn’t just a girl I’d met on the street. She was Tig and Delia’s friend and deserved better than just a quick itch being scratched.

Lie.

Well, not about the deserving better part. It had taken barely ten minutes spent in her presence to tell me that she was the kind of woman a man instinctively should take care with. She was special—a special that didn’t come around too often.

And that was the lie.

Because I saw that special and yet, I still wanted to pretend the draw I felt toward her, the chemistry that seemed to bubble in the air between us was just sexual attraction.

I’d met her twice.

And I already knew it was more than that.

She was interesting—a juxtaposition my brain wanted to figure out, a puzzle I wanted to solve.

“It’s late,” I said gently. “You should go home and get some rest.”

Blue eyes lightening, cooling. A face going from relaxed and warm to closed down and frosty. Shoulders stiffening, a jaw tightening, lips pressing flat.

“Yeah,” she said. “I should.”

And then she spun and walked out of the room, footsteps hurried as they moved across the wooden floor, the open and close of the heavy glass door making me jump. I dropped the hand that had lifted in a silent plea for her not to leave, one she wouldn’t see because I’d made sure to distance us, the one I didn’t have the courage to pair with words, to my side.

I couldn’t do this.

I. Could. Not. Do. This.

Not ever again.

Five

Charlie

I had my earbuds in and was deliberately ignoring the hustle and bustle in the main part of the studio.

It had been quiet when Delia had let me in with blurry eyes that morning, waving once before leaving me to my work and heading back home. She hadn’t wanted Garret inconvenienced again and I got it, he was just an employee, not the owner. Early mornings and late nights shouldn’t fall to him. But I had suggested she get me a key to save her the same early mornings. Then I’d set about my work alone for several hours until the clients and artists had begun filing in around eleven. I’d stacked what I could from the storeroom in the hallway so the artists would have easy access to it, but some of the heavier supplies I’d left in the built-in cabinet along the back wall.

Which had made sense at the time, but now I’d spent a good portion of the last hour making small talk with Tig, Delia, and the other artists.

And not listening to my podcast about a woman who’d married the Eiffel Tower.

Man, my life was rough.

Missing out on my series of people who’d fallen in love with inanimate objects.

I bent to the side, leaning close and attempting to make sense of the tangle of pipes. Half were functional, half were dummies. I’d been doing plumbing for more than a few years now and hadn’t seen anything quite like this.

Frankly, it was a miracle the shop hadn’t flooded before now.

A knock on the door had me glancing up. Tig stood in the doorway. “Food?” he asked.

I shook my head, ignoring