JAMESON: Brothers Ink Tattoo (Brothers Ink Tattoo Series Book 1) Read online

  Jameson remained mute.

  “Jamie, she has her own business, so you know she’s not after your money. And she’s hot as hell, so what’s the fucking problem?”

  “Max—” Jameson warned, but refused to answer his question.

  “She’s sweet, smart, sexy, wants to help with the business, and for some reason she’s taking all the shit you shovel her way and tossing it back at you. I’d say she’s a keeper, and you better open your fucking eyes before it’s too late.”

  “Stay the fuck out of my business, Max,” Jameson said quietly to his desktop.

  “You know I’m right. You want to be pissed, be pissed at me. You want to lie to me, go on, but be honest with yourself at least, because I would hate to see you blow this all to hell.”

  “You done?” Jameson snapped loudly, hating having his nose rubbed in it.

  “Yeah, I’m done.”

  “Then get the fuck out!”

  “I love you, Bro. You know that, don’t you?” Max reminded him with a grin as he got to his feet.

  Jameson looked up and snapped, “Someday you’re going to get knocked on your ass by a woman, and I’m going to be there taking pictures.”

  Max chuckled as he left.

  ***

  Liam looked up from his chair when Max came back downstairs. He’d heard the yelling and knew Max had been trying to talk some sense into Jameson. He grinned and asked, “How’d that go?”

  “I’m guessing you heard.”

  “He figure out he’s in love yet?”

  Max grinned and nodded. “He is so fucking screwed.”

  ***

  Later that afternoon, Ava headed back to the supply room to check inventory. She flicked the switch in the back hall and nothing happened. She looked up to see the light was burned out. Frowning, she glanced to the front to see that Max, Liam, and Rory were all working on customers, so she decided to just change it herself. She’d just need to find a ladder to reach the fixture.

  There was one leaning against the back wall of the utility closet, behind the mop and bucket and some other items. She began to shuffle everything out of the way, and then manhandled the eight foot aluminum stepladder a few inches. It wasn’t that it was extremely heavy, but it was a bit awkward to maneuver. She tried walking the feet back and forth, but soon was backed up against the door that began to shut behind her.

  A moment later, the door was pushed open, and she was pressed against the wall, wedged between the door and ladder. She let out a little squeal.

  Jameson poked his head around the door. “What the hell are you doing?”

  She pushed herself upright. “I was trying to change the light bulb in the hall. It’s out.”

  He stepped into the small room, his body taking up what little space remained as he caught the weight of the ladder so it wouldn’t tip over on her. “Move.”

  She had to try to squeeze between him and the door to get out. He stared down at her as her body pressed against him as she moved around the edge of the door. Then his other arm was over her head, grabbing the rest of the weight of the ladder. She inhaled his scent—it wasn’t a heavy overpowering cologne, but perhaps a body wash he used, and that combined with his own man’s scent was amazing. She didn’t want to move away; she found herself wanting to stay right there and continue breathing him in. It was like she’d suddenly found some new drug and was instantly addicted. All this flashed through her brain in a moment’s time, and then she mustered the strength to move away.

  Once she was out of the way, he carried the ladder out and positioned it under the fixture.

  “I’ve got it from here,” Ava insisted, a little flustered by the reaction she’d just had to him.

  “Suit yourself.” He stepped out of the way, but he didn’t leave.

  Ava grabbed up a box containing a replacement bulb from the top shelf in the closet and scrambled up the ladder. She set the box on the top rung and began unscrewing the dome of the light fixture, trying her best to ignore him, which was damned near impossible.

  Jameson stood at the bottom of the ladder watching, which made her fingers fumble a bit on the screws and drop one of them. She carefully lowered the glass covering and balanced it on the top rung. Then she unscrewed the burned bulb and replaced it with the new. Now she just had to put the cover back up. Her arms were getting tired holding the heavy glass fixture over her head while she fumbled with the screws. Jameson handed them to her, one by one. As she looked down to reach for them, she noticed his eyes drop to the curve of her hip and the tattoo he’d done for her. With her arms over her head as she replaced the screws, her shirt rode up exposing it, as well as her new piercing. The way his eyes moved over her skin had her wobbling a bit, and she almost lost her balance. In an instant, she felt Jameson’s hands grab her thighs, holding her steady.

  “Careful, babe.”

  She swallowed, thinking how close she’d come to slipping off the ladder and dropping the fixture to the floor. She noticed Jameson’s hold remained firm until she finished and was coming back down the ladder.

  Once she’d descended, she turned to find him standing only a few inches from her. They stared at each other a moment, and her eyes couldn’t help but drop to his muscular chest and arms.

  “Thanks,” she murmured.

  “Your ink seems to be healing nicely.”

  Finding herself at a loss for words, she could only nod. Was that all he’d been studying, how well it was healing? Not the way the art curled around the curves of her body? She remembered his words when he’d put it on her, how sexy a tattoo curving over the hip could be. Did he find hers sexy?

  “I’ll get the ladder.” He lifted his chin toward it.

  “Right.” She stepped out of the way, and he folded and hefted it like it weighed nothing. After he put it back and shut the closet door, he flicked the light switch. They both glanced up at the now bright hallway. Then she watched him turn and walk upstairs without another word.

  What the hell was happening to her? She’d been so affected by his nearness, but she wasn’t sure he’d been affected at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was Saturday evening, and as Ava took the payment from the last customer, she noticed there were no more waiting. She pulled up the schedule in the computer and saw that all the slots after 8:00 p.m. were blocked off. What now, another bachelorette party?

  “We’re closing the shop early tonight.” Max closed the door after his customer left, then flipped the sign over and walked to her counter.

  She frowned up at him. “Why?”

  “Rory’s band is playing tonight at the bar down the street. We’re all going to go see them. You’re coming, too, aren’t you?”

  “I guess I’d forgotten,” she admitted.

  “They’re really good. You should come.”

  Liam walked up. “How ‘bout you ask that hot sister of yours to join us?”

  She rolled her eyes, laughing.

  Max leaned his forearms on the counter and grinned down at her. “Yeah, you gonna be a sweetheart and hook a brother up?”

  She rolled her eyes again. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Liam reached over the counter, pulled the receiver from the telephone system and handed it to her with a grin. “Hurry up, then. We’re heading over there in a few minutes.”

  She made the call and informed them that Steffy would meet them there.

  “She’s not one of those girls who take two hours picking out an outfit and doing her hair and makeup, is she?” Liam asked, his hands sliding into his pockets.

  “Isn’t that all women?” Max huffed out a laugh.

  “Um, well…” Ava hated to break it to them, but Steffy did take a long time to get ready to go anywhere.

  “Oh, Lord,” Liam muttered, shaking his head as Rory walked up, his jacket in hand.

  Ava chuckled. “What time are you going on stage, Rory?”

  “We won’t go on until 9:00 p.m. She’s got some time yet.” H
e glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got to head over and start setting up. Gary, our drummer got word that Sonny Baker from RBI West Coast Recordings is supposed to come see us tonight. So, I’ll see you all over there.”

  “Not the Sonny Baker?” Liam teased with a grin, not having a clue who in the world the guy was. Not that any of them did.

  “Blow me,” Rory bit back.

  “Save us a table up front,” Jameson put in as he came downstairs and walked up to join the others in the lobby.

  Rory stopped in the doorway and looked back, grinning. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “You better do more than see!” Jameson shouted after him as he went out the door.

  ***

  Two hours later, the five of them were all seated at a table up front—Jameson, Max, Liam, Ava, and Steffy. Ava had to admit, Rory’s band, Convicted Chrome, was really good. Rory was an excellent guitar player, taking center stage for more than one solo. He sang the lead on several songs, and Ava thought his vocals were much better than the other band member who sang most of the songs. She’d leaned over to ask Jameson about it, and he’d told her the other member had started the band and Rory had been added to the lineup only last year.

  As she sat back and watched, it was clear—to her at least—that Rory was the star of the show and outshone the other members. She imagined he had big things in his future.

  Glancing over at Jameson, she saw the pride in his eyes, but she also saw a hint of something else. It was almost like he was watching his kid graduate and go off to college. He was going to have to let go of Rory, and he knew it. Rory had bigger things in store for him than working at the family business, even if he loved Brothers Ink as much as the others.

  As she studied the emotion on Jameson’s face, she realized it wasn’t going to be easy for him when that time came.

  She glanced around the rest of the table. Steffy was squeezed between Max and Liam, and they were both lavishing her with attention, hitting on her left and right.

  Steffy, for her part, was enjoying every minute of it, laughing at the brother’s jokes as they ribbed and tried to one-up each other.

  The band took a short break, which allowed for conversation to be heard.

  Jameson picked up the pitcher of beer that sat on the table, leaned over, and refilled Ava’s glass, then filled the others. Max was the only one at the table not drinking. When Ava had asked why, he’d said it was because he was in training for an amateur fight.

  “Thank you.” She smiled at Jameson.

  He winked at her as he set the pitcher back down. “You havin’ a good time?”

  “I’m having a blast. This is a fun place.” Her eyes traveled around the bar. It was an old building that had once been a bank at the turn of the last century. The ceilings were high, the walls had been gutted down to the brick, and the floors were hardwood. There was a long vintage bar with a gorgeous carved mirror along one side, and across the large room was a stage for the band. The place was called, appropriately enough, The Vault.

  “Yeah, the acoustics are great in here.” He glanced around, and then met her eyes. “What do you think of Convicted Chrome?”

  “They’re amazing. Although I’m not much for heavy metal rock, I love the songs that Rory sings on. He’s got a wonderful voice.”

  Jameson nodded. “Yeah. I think his talent is wasted with this bunch.” He grinned over at her. “But don’t tell him I said that.”

  She chuckled. “My lips are sealed.”

  “After this break is their last set. Sometimes Rory and the lead singer do an acoustic number for the last song. Depends how the crowd is.”

  Ava nodded. “I’d love to hear it.” She glanced around. “Do you know which guy is the music producer he was talking about?”

  “No. I’ve got no clue what he looks like. I saw Rory talking to somebody earlier when they took that last break, but hell, it’s so crowded, I wasn’t sure it was him.”

  “I hope he’s here,” she replied.

  Jameson looked over her head at something and muttered, “Fucking hell.”

  Before she could turn around, she noticed Liam’s and Max’s eyes lift as well, and the vibe at the table suddenly went from fun-loving to tense in an instant.

  “Hey, Jameson,” Ava heard in a feminine voice that sounded familiar, but also sounded drunk. She twisted and found herself staring up at the girl who had thrown the drink at her.

  “Rachel,” Jameson bit out. “I told you, don’t want you in my shop, don’t want you calling, and I sure as hell don’t want you thinking there’s anything between us. Go away.”

  As Ava studied the girl, she swayed on her feet, and it became immediately apparent just how drunk Rachel was.

  “You can’t tell me what to do,” she slurred out, swaying.

  Ava’s eyes dropped to the glass in the girl’s hand and wondered if she was about to get another drink dumped on her. She heard Jameson’s chair scrape across the wooden floor as he stood, and suddenly they were facing off one another from either side of her chair. Oh, crap.

  She glanced across the table to see Steffy’s eyes move from the girl to her and get big in a meaningful way that said, who the hell is this?

  The glass crashed to the floor, shattering behind Ava’s chair and then Jameson was grabbing Rachel by the forearms as she almost stumbled to the floor along with it.

  “Oops,” she said with a giggle. Then she leaned toward Jameson, trying to hang all over him. “Why have you been so mean to me, Jameson?”

  “Maybe you should call her a cab,” Max advised.

  “I can drive myself,” Rachel insisted, trying to pull from Jameson’s arms, suddenly all indignant.

  Liam stood and pulled Steffy to her feet. “Come on, angel. Let’s go play darts.”

  “Max, take Ava home while I deal with this,” Jameson said as he held Rachel up by the forearms.

  “Yeah, sure. No problem.” Max stood and took Ava’s hand.

  She glanced back at Jameson who held up the swaying woman. “Will you be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ve just got to make sure she gets home. Last thing I want is her making a scene when Rory’s band is playing. It’s a big night for him.”

  ***

  Max escorted Ava out the door and to his truck. Once they were outside, Ava realized just how good the cool night air felt after the crowded bar. She took a deep breath.

  “Stalker girl strikes again,” Max said, looking over at Ava. “Sorry your night had to end with that.”

  She smiled over at him. “That’s okay. I was getting tired, anyway.” She glanced back at the bar as Max held the passenger door open for her. “What about Steffy?”

  Max grinned. “Liam will make sure she gets home. Don’t worry.”

  She climbed up, and he shut the door. A moment later they were headed down Main Street.

  “Max?”

  “Yeah, babe.”

  “I don’t mean this in the wrong way, but Steffy is my sister. What I mean is, will Liam treat her right?”

  Max looked over at her. “She’ll be fine, darlin’. I promise. Liam’s a good guy. He won’t take advantage, if that’s your worry.”

  She smiled. “Sorry. I’m a big sister. We worry.”

  “And she’s your little chick, huh?”

  She chuckled. “Something like that.”

  “Don’t worry, Mama hen. Little chick will be fine.”

  “Thanks.”

  A light smattering of raindrops began to fall, and Max flicked on the wipers. After another moment, he looked over at her. “So, you and Jameson seem to be getting along better.”

  Her mouth formed a small smile, and she looked down. “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “I’m glad. You’re good for him.”

  “Am I?” She met his eyes.

  “Yes, ma’am. You’re shaking him up, in a good way. It’s what he needs.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “You two have a con
nection. Don’t try to deny it.”

  She looked out her window, listening to the sound of tires on wet pavement. “I suppose you’re right. Our situations are similar. I feel that bond; I won’t deny it.”

  “He feels it, too.”

  She turned back to him. “Does he?”

  “Absolutely. And it scares the hell out of him.”

  “Why? I don’t want anything from him. I’m not after him like some of these groupies from his TV show.”

  “I think he’s afraid that bringing a woman into the mix will upset the balance. At least, that’s what he’s always been afraid of in the past. Nobody was going to come between us as a family, and nobody was going to tear us apart. Then, when he became successful…Well, now it’s all about the money. He can spot a gold-digger from a mile away. Like that chick and Rory.”

  “And is he afraid I’ll do something to come between all of you?”

  Max shrugged. “Maybe not. But strong feelings, like the kind he’s starting to feel, they can scare the hell out of a man.”

  “You sound like you speak from experience,” she teased.

  He chuckled. “I’ve had my turn at the heartbreak hotel.”

  “Not going back again?”

  “Oh, hell yeah. When the right one comes along, definitely.”

  She laughed. “Ah yes, the elusive ‘right one’.”

  “You ever come close?”

  She looked at him. “Me? No. I’ve barely dated.” She looked out her window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass. “I spent most of my time taking care of my sisters.”

  “Same with Jameson. He’s spent his whole life taking care of all of us. We all look up to him. He’s been driven to succeed, but he’s done it on his own terms, by his own rules. We admire the success he’s made of the place. We know the struggle it’s been and what he had to give up. He put his own wants aside for the good of the business, for the good of the family he’s struggled so long to keep together. All this time, that’s been his one and only goal. Not fame, not fortune. That was never his goal.”