Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
I smile.
“Thanks a million, buddy. I owe you a drink.”
Kate smiles mischievously at me again.
“You more than owe me a drink, Dane. You owe me an explanation once this is all over.”
I nod and grin, and my co-worker turns and floats back off to the front. Meanwhile, I get to thinking. What’s going to happen when Zoe arrives? If this were any other girl, I wouldn’t have a worry in the world because my natural style is to just wing it. But for some reason, I’m filled with nerves because this is isn’t just some girl; this is Zoe. She’s utterly luscious, and I have to succeed. I can’t fail because after seeing her sketches, there’s only one way forward for the two of us now.
8
Zoe
I walk into High Voltage Tattoo at 1:55 p.m. with my stomach practically in my throat. I arrived early, but I sat in the parking lot paralyzed by fear for ten minutes. I just barely convinced myself that I can do this. Had I sat for an eleventh minute, I would probably be driving back home right now.
Instead, I stand quivering inside the front door. The lady behind the desk perks up when she sees me, and it seems she knows me already. She’s got long brown dreds and a kind expression.
“Hi, may I help you?” she asks.
“Um, hi. I’m Zoe Canning. I have a consultation with Dane Reston at 2 p.m.?”
She smiles
“Yes, of course.”
Shit. I bet she knows about the drawings too. Why, oh why, did I come here? This is going to be the most embarrassing afternoon of my entire life.
“I’m Kate,” she says, coming around the desk to shake my hand. The woman is extremely tall and smells of patchouli. “I’ll take you in back to find Dane. And there’s no need to be scared of tattoos, darling. I know it can be nerve wracking, but we’ve all been there. This is going to be fine, and you’re in good hands with Dane.”
Is there a hidden meaning behind that statement? But I merely smile and follow her into the store. I see quite a few tattoo tables, and the walls are lined with tattoo machines, piercing needles, and drawers filled with ink. When we get to the back, Dane’s massive form appears, sculpted and bronzed as usual. The breath evaporates in my lungs and I swear my heart stops beating. Of course, he looks completely at ease.
“Nice to see you, Zoe. All set for your consultation?”
I nod dumbly.
“Yes,” I croak. “Hi Dane.”
Kate smiles and turns to go.
“You two holler if you need anything,” she sings while making her way back to her desk.
“Thanks Kate. Come with me Zoe. I’ve got a room reserved in the back so we can have some privacy for your first consultation.”
We walk to the back of the store, where there’s a hallway leading to several closed doors. He opens the last door on the left and steps aside to let me in. This is some sort of office, and it looks pretty average, to be honest. There’s a computer on a desk, as well as two metal filing cabinets, two chairs and a rug. Nothing abnormal.
I walk about halfway into the office and then turn around to face Dane. He’s godawful gorgeous, those blue eyes flashing, and as he turns to face me, I hear the unmistakable click of the lock on the door. Then, he smiles impishly and turns the deadbolt too, locking us into the small room together.
I feel my mouth turn dry and I can’t help but nervously bite my lower lip.
“Um, is there a reason why you just locked us in here?”
He grins and walks forward a step before pulling something out from behind his back.
“I figured you’d want privacy, seeing that we’re about to discuss this.”
It’s my journal! I gasp and immediately try to snatch it from his hands, but Dane’s too fast for me.
“Nuh-uh!” he says in a teasing voice as he holds it up over his head out of reach. “Not so fast.”
“Dane, give that back,” I say, my trembling voice giving away my sudden loss of confidence. “That belongs to me.”
He holds the diary above his head, still smiling arrogantly. His eyes are an intense blue, and I get the feeling he enjoys this. He’s like a cat, playing with a helpless mouse, and unfortunately, that mouse is me. Then he speaks, his voice low and rough.
“We need to talk about these naughty fantasies of yours, Miss Canning. I had no idea. This was a surprise, to say the least.”
Oh my god, I’m going to die. Clearly, he’s seen my sketches and my cheeks flare as my nipples tighten. But I feign ignorance.
“I do not know what you are talking about. If you are referring to something you saw in my diary… well then you must have simply misunderstood whatever it is that you saw,” I say, trying my best to play dumb. I’m certain it’s too late for this move, but it seems the only the move I have at this point.