Abiding Ink (Inked in the Steel City #4) Read online

  It wasn’t much to go on. Anyway, getting to know someone – really know someone – took ages. And sometimes, even when you thought you knew someone, you really didn’t.

  He held the café door open for her without a word, and she eyed his hand, long fingers against glass, all traces of ink hidden by his jacket sleeve. She knew what was underneath though, and the thought sent a prickle of heat down her spine.

  “Thanks,” she said, stepping into the café.

  “No problem.”

  Smiling, she told herself not to get all bent out of shape. Like she’d told her mother, Tyler was her date to a work party. She didn’t need to give him the third degree in order to relax and enjoy a not-so-solitary evening with him. It wasn’t like they were going to get that intimate under the watchful eyes of her co-workers. Maybe they’d have a drink, even share a dance or two, at most, in the company of people like Wanda and Dr. Anthony.

  After a brief wait in line, they ordered their food, and Tyler pulled out his wallet while she still had a hand buried wrist-deep in her purse.

  “I’ve got mine,” she said, pulling out a few bills.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He handed over a debit card, and in a couple seconds flat, it was done – he’d paid for both their meals.

  “That was nice,” she said, cheeks heating a little as they each carried their separate trays to an empty corner table. “But you really didn’t have to. Let me make it up to you another day – we can get lunch again, and it’ll be my treat.”

  The last thing she wanted him to think was that she hit on volunteers regularly in the name of scoring a free lunch, or that she wasn’t willing to pay her way. His gesture had been unexpected, unnecessary … and sweet, even though she was trying not to feel that way about it. They were way too casual for him to be picking up both their meal checks.

  He smiled, just barely – smirked, really. “I’ll gladly get lunch with you again, but you’re not going to pay.”

  “Well, someone’s old-fashioned,” was all she could manage to say as she took a tentative sip of her coffee, confirming that it was indeed too hot.

  His smile broadened. “Is that a bad thing?”

  It could be, but for some reason, she was more charmed by the apparent contrast between his appearance and his scruples than anything. There was just something about a guy who towered over six feet, was covered in tattoos and spent his spare time holding doors open for women and carting around lunch to convalescent old ladies. “Depends.”

  “On?” His eyes flickered up to meet hers and he held her gaze as he took a long drink of his own coffee, apparently not bothered by the temperature.

  “I don’t know,” she said, inexplicably flustered. “I like being a modern woman – having a career, being independent and all that. Letting a guy pay for my lunch just because I’m female kind of feels like cheating, somehow.”

  His brows drew together, and she hoped she hadn’t offended him. Not when he’d only been being generous.

  “I didn’t pay for your meal because you’re female – I paid because you’re my date. I asked you here and I paid. That doesn’t seem like cheating to me.”

  An errant butterfly sprang into action somewhere in her middle, fluttering as the word “date” sank in. At least he was straightforward, let her know how he saw things instead of leaving her to guess – she liked that. “Okay. Well, for the record, I think it was generous of you, and totally unnecessary. I wouldn’t have been offended at all if you’d let me pay for my own food.”

  “Duly noted.” He took a bite of his sandwich, and she let her gaze linger on his wrists, studying where his sleeves slid back a little, exposing hints of ink. She’d always found the sight of a well-done tattoo interesting, even sexy if it was on the right guy, but Tyler…

  He took the tattoo thing to a whole new level of hotness. Visions of his inked-up arms danced in her head like sugarplums as she started on her turkey-on-wheat. She had no idea if he had ink anywhere else on his body, but it seemed likely, and she didn’t mind imagining where it might be. “So you’ve always lived in Pittsburgh,” she said eventually, vaguely worried that he’d somehow read her mind, leaving her epically embarrassed.

  “Yeah.” A faint look of surprise flashed in his eyes, alerting her to her mistake.

  Her stomach knotted instantly, and her cheeks grew hotter than her coffee cup.

  “How’d you know?” he asked.

  There was nothing to do but admit the truth. “I looked up the tattoo studio you said you worked at. Read your bio.” More than once, but she wasn’t about to let him know that.

  He nodded, but didn’t say anything to increase her embarrassment. Thank God. She was beginning to like him more and more despite a little voice in the back of her head that urged her not to fall head-over-heels. Which normally wasn’t something she’d consider herself capable of doing over a single, quick café lunch, but Tyler’s sweet and sexy contradictory allure was a potent combination.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “Me? I was born and raised here. Have a lot of family in the city.”

  For some reason, Tyler’s full lips curved down in a momentary frown. Or maybe she’d only imagined it. “I’ve got family here too.”

  “Your little sister?”

  He nodded. “Her and my parents. She’s a student at CCAC. Lives in the same apartment complex I do, with a couple of roommates.”

  Tyler had to love his sister – why else would he be driving her around and volunteering with her? But maybe she was a little too close for comfort, which, in a way, Mallory could understand. She didn’t mind sharing an apartment with just her mom, but having her brother or sister for neighbors would probably have driven her a little crazy within weeks. “I’ve got a brother and a sister, but they don’t live that close. I share an apartment with my mom, though.”

  A tiny part of her worried that that made her sound childish, and guilt assailed her instantly. It wasn’t that she feared being on her own; it was that she wanted to be there for her mom – to support her health, physical and otherwise. The past few years had been hard for her mother – really hard. And who better to be there for her than her daughter, the registered nurse, her oldest child? She shouldn’t be embarrassed to say she lived with her mom – feeling a twinge of discomfort when she said it out loud made her feel like a bad daughter … a bad person.

  But Tyler didn’t seem inclined to judge. “Normally, it’s just me at my place,” he said. “But I’ve got a visitor until after Christmas. My little brother.” His frown made a quick appearance again, and sensing that he wasn’t exactly happy to have a holiday house guest, she didn’t question him on the matter.

  “Isn’t it weird how getting together with family around the holidays can be fun and grueling at the same time?” she asked instead.

  He laughed, a short, husky sound that sent a bolt of awareness through her. “Yeah. It can be weird. Definitely.”

  She couldn’t resist smiling. His laugh made her want to laugh, too. Mostly because it was unexpected – he didn’t look like the type to laugh much, just like he didn’t look like the type to humor handsy old ladies.

  They made a little more small talk, and although it was nothing out of the ordinary, she enjoyed it more than she’d expected to. The fact that she got to stare at him the whole time may have had something to do with it.

  “Listen,” he said when she dabbed her mouth with her napkin, then dropped it onto her empty plate, “part of the reason why I asked you to have lunch with me was that I wanted to ask you something else.”

  Her heart skipped a beat as his words lit a spark of curiosity inside her. “What?”

  “My work has a Christmas party too. My boss throws one every year.” He reached into his pocket, pulling something out with obvious care. “The invitation is for me plus one. Would you like to be my date?”

  He laid the invitation down on the table, unfolding it and smoothing it against the surface.

&n
bsp; A bubble of laughter rose up inside her, and she settled for grinning at the paper gingerbread man, which was complete with glue-dot eyes and glittery trim. “Does your boss have kids?”

  “No, actually… I think one of my other co-worker’s nieces made this.” He flipped the invitation over, revealing a backside that was devoid of glitter and printed with a time, date and address. “The party is on Saturday – the day after yours. If you’re free—”

  “I’ll go,” she said. He’d agreed to attend her work party – she could go to his, too. There were certainly worse fates than being escorted to parties two nights in a row by the likes of Tyler DeHaven. And besides, she was a little dazzled by the be-glittered gingerbread man. What kind of place was the Hot Ink Tattoo Studio, exactly?

  Thinking back to her web search, a bolt of nervous anticipation sailed through her. Soon, she’d find out for herself.

  * * * * *

  Seeing Mallory for the first time had taken Tyler’s breath away, and she’d been wearing scrubs then. Seeing her in the dress she’d chosen for her boss’s party nearly killed him. Drawing a deep, quiet breath and refusing to let it rush out, he took her hand as she descended the last of her apartment building’s stairs.

  “You look amazing.” The midnight blue dress glittered in the lighting that illuminated the complex’s lot. The fabric was dark, but not at all subdued. The skirt hugged her every curve, and she wore a black jacket with a cropped body and long sleeves.

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling and raising a hand to touch her hair, which had been swept up into some sort of knot that let a few curls hang free. “I hope you don’t mind that I came down when I saw your car pull up. I’d invite you inside, but I’m afraid it’d be awkward – kind of like leaving for a high school prom dance, if my mom has her way.”

  “Really?” A ripple of amusement swept through him. She didn’t look like a teenaged girl in a gaudy gown – she was the epitome of womanliness in her dress and simple black heels, her tasteful make-up.

  “Yeah.” She winced as he opened the passenger side door of his car for her. “My mom actually took a picture of me when I came out of my room dressed for the party. I guess that’s a sign that I need to get out more.”

  “Don’t get out much, huh?” It was kind of hard to believe that someone who looked like Mallory didn’t have social invitations flying at her left and right. Why would she turn them down?

  Not that he didn’t believe her. She’d asked him to be her date after Dr. Creepster had all but said that he’d be happy to fill that role, after all.

  “Not as much as some other women my age, I guess. I’ve got work, my mom, and I’ve always been kind of a homebody. I’m not much of a party girl.”

  “Your mom – does she have health problems or something?” He hadn’t thought anything of Mallory living with her mother, but when she put it that way, she made it sound like there was something more to their living arrangement than simple preference.

  “She’s diabetic. Type 2. She was diagnosed a few years ago and her health has been getting steadily worse… I worry about her a lot.”

  “Sorry to hear it.”

  “I’m just glad I know enough to help – as much as she’ll let me, anyway.”

  He dropped the subject, and as he drove toward Mt. Lebanon – the suburb Mallory’s boss called home – her frown faded. When they reached Dr. Creepster’s house, Tyler wasn’t surprised by the sprawling three story residence. In fact, he would’ve been shocked if someone who’d obviously invested thousands in the whiteness of his smile had settled for anything less.

  He had to park on the street, behind a long row of other guest’s vehicles. That was all right; it just meant a longer walk through the winter night with Mallory. Touching a hand lightly to the small of her back, he walked beside her, approaching a half-circle driveway lined with Christmas lights, all bright, white and neatly aligned, just like the doctor’s teeth.

  A huge wreath hung on the door, laden with artificial winter berries, and as Tyler opened the door, light and noise spilled out onto the stoop.

  The foyer and open living room were packed, the cathedral-ceilinged space filled with partiers and throbbing with music that was somehow both seasonal and trendy, like something they’d play at a night club for Santa’s elves. A towering Christmas tree dominated the room and was supported by a host of carefully coordinated decorations. It all looked like something out of a magazine.

  “Wow,” Mallory said. “I guess people weren’t kidding about Dr. Anthony going all-out for parties.”

  “It’s pretty impressive,” Tyler admitted.

  “Look – there’s a rack for coats.” Mallory stepped to the left and unbuttoned her jacket.

  For the second time, she surprised him, leaving him completely breathless as she exposed the top half of her dress.

  The neckline, which extended well above her collarbones, would’ve been anything but revealing, if it hadn’t been for the cutout, the dress’s sole adornment. It was narrow, and didn’t show too much, but the little bit it did reveal had his imagination racing, his blood rushing a little faster through his veins… And straight below his belt.

  He had to look away.

  A forced study of the buffet set up in front of the Christmas tree managed to quell the threat of a full-fledged erection.

  “Hungry?” Mallory asked, stepping close to his side.

  His mouth watered instantly, and he forced himself to follow her gaze to the food laid out by a huge crystal punch bowl, knowing her question had been innocent. “Yeah,” he said, though cocktail shrimp and cheeses were the farthest things from his mind.

  “Me too. Looks like we can help ourselves.”

  Mallory turned heads as she and Tyler made their way toward the buffet. Hell, she’d probably been turning heads since the moment they’d walked through the door, but he’d been too busy gaping at her himself to notice. He couldn’t blame others for looking twice, though every time a man stared at her for too long, giving her a slow up and down, his thoughts were undercut by vague, primal urges to utterly destroy the offending individual.

  Stupid, but he was only human, and in that dress, she didn’t look like anything near so ordinary.

  “Oh my God!” A woman with bright red hair burst through the crowd, her sky-high heels clomping against the floorboards as she balanced a cocktail in one hand and a plate bearing a slice of cheesecake in the other. “Mallory, you look amazing. I told you that dress was perfect for you. It looks even better now than it did in the dressing room.”

  “Hey, Wanda. Thanks. You look beautiful too.”

  Wanda grinned at Mallory, then turned her gaze to Tyler. “So, who’s this – I thought you were coming alone, Mallory?”

  “Change of plans.”

  “Well.” Wanda’s brows jumped up and down, fiery above wide blue eyes. “You two are really going to turn heads together tonight, I can guarantee you that.” She took a long sip of her drink and giggled, looking directly at Tyler over the rim of her glass. “What’s your name?”

  “Tyler DeHaven.”

  “Ooh, a man of few words,” she said after a few moments, as if she’d expected him to not just give his name, but launch into an epic retelling of his entire life story.

  “I met Mallory while volunteering at the hospital,” he offered, wary of the look that flashed in Wanda’s eyes as she mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “mystery man” under her breath.

  “I’m sorry,” Mallory intervened, “I should’ve introduced the two of you. Wanda, this is Tyler – we met at the hospital, just like he said. Tyler, this is Wanda. She’s an RN too; we work together. You two may have even glimpsed each other before at the hospital.”

  “Oh, I’d remember if we had.” Wanda beamed. “Anyway, nice to meet you, Tyler.”

  “Likewise.” He followed Wanda’s gaze down to his forearms, which were partially exposed beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his plain black shirt. Was he underdressed?


  Nah, glancing around, it didn’t look like it. Black pants and a shirt that buttoned up – he’d figured the outfit was a safe choice, and most of the other men seemed to be wearing something similar, albeit in brighter colors. A few wore chunky knit Christmas sweaters, but no way was he going there.

  It wasn’t his nondescript clothing that had drawn Wanda’s attention – it was his tattoos.

  There was a reason Tyler wore his sleeves rolled a few inches up his arms – he liked them that way. Having long sleeves buttoned around his wrists made him feel restrained, and besides, he liked the way Mallory’s eyes lit up when her gaze drifted down to his hands.

  “Anyway, they’re making these cute little drinks over at the bar,” Wanda said after a few silent moments. “Red and green, see?” She held up her not-so-little glass, showing off the layered cocktail. “You should both try one! Dr. Anthony said they’re his own special recipe.” She shot Mallory a wink and excused herself. “I’ll stop standing between you two and the buffet – by the way, the cheesecake is to die for.”

  Mallory turned to Tyler. “Okay, so now that you’ve met Wanda, my other co-workers should seem pretty tame. Unless that’s an open bar I see over there.”

  The bar at the end of the buffet line-up appeared to be exactly that, and it was even staffed by someone who looked like a professional bar tender. “Looks like it.”

  “Well, who knows then – people are always joking about how crazy work Christmas parties can get.”

  Tyler chose items from the buffet at random, fighting the ever-present temptation to simply stand and stare at Mallory like a deer caught in headlights. Several more of her co-workers approached and she made introductions. Meanwhile the music pulsed, just loud enough to make itself heard without making conversation difficult.

  It was only a matter of time before Dr. Creepster noticed that Mallory had arrived.

  As he approached, his smile flickered, his gaze drifting toward Tyler and then snapping back to Mallory, giving her one of those up-and-downs that made a vein in the side of Tyler’s neck twitch. Was the doctor disappointed that she’d brought a date?