Ox saw her disappear upstairs, tried not to think about her coming back downstairs in a shirt that would show off her entire back. He was jealous of people seeing her ink, which was ridiculous. That thought led to him thinking about inking her wrist the other night, which led him to imagine his needle in other places. Other places where he was the only one allowed to see.

Not your girl.

Emmie was not his girl.

Adrian the douchebag Saroyan was supposed to be coming to the reception. He wondered if he could pay Kim and her buddies to keep the man occupied. They’d probably think it was hilarious.

What the fuck was he doing?

Ox rose from his chair when he saw Spider walking down 7th Avenue. It was far from the first time he’d met the man, but a little thrill still went through him every time Ox thought about hanging out with him. Spider Villalobos was a legend in the tattoo community. He’d been featured in magazines though it was under his proper name, Manuel Villalobos. Only friends and clients called him Spider anymore. Ox wondered if Emmie knew that.

He was also one of the most badass men Ox had ever met. It wasn’t his size. Spider barely came to Ox’s chest. It wasn’t his attitude, because the man was practically a Zen master of calm. But something about the cool expression in Spider’s baby face and the creeping tattoos on his neck and head warned others that you did not cross the man. If you were a friend, that expression warmed. To everyone else, Spider was an enigma. An enigma that could probably kill you.

“Hey.” Ox pushed the door open. “As always, I’m honored, man. Thanks for coming.”

Spider stuck his hand out. “Ox, good to see you.” He stepped inside and looked around. “The place is looking good. How’d the first day go?”

“Slow for me, pretty busy for her. I didn’t want to book anyone that might overlap with the opening, but I have appointments going the rest of the week.”

“Cool.” Spider nodded. “I might have a client to send your way. Not sure, but I’ll let you know. His girl likes the Irish stuff, and it’s not my deal.”

“I’d be happy to talk to her.”

They chatted for a few moments until Ox noticed Spider adjusting his neat black tie and smoothing a hand over his vest.

“Shit,” Ox said. “I gotta change.”

Spider looked over Ox’s faded jeans and T-shirt. “Yeah, you do.”

“Hey, not all of us dress to impress.”

Spider grinned and nodded toward Daisy on the other side of the shop. “When you’re married to a woman like that, you dress however the hell she wants you to.”

Ox noticed that Daisy was wearing a sharp, retro-looking red dress with black polka dots and some fancy thing in her hair. She spotted Spider and Ox and waved with a huge smile.

“You know you’re a lucky bastard, right?”

Spider looked around the shop. “Look who’s talking.”

Ox ducked outside and grabbed the clothes his mom had pressed for him that morning. It was just black jeans and a black button-down shirt like he’d told Ethan, but it looked good and it wouldn’t stand out in this crowd. If he were still over at Bombshell, Ginger would sneer at him for trying to impress. At INK, it was just part of the image.

He slipped back into the shop as more and more people started to arrive, ducking into the office at the end of the hall only to find Tayla sitting at the desk and typing rapidly on her phone.

“Uh, hey Tayla.” Emmie’s best friend both intimidated and amused Ox. She reminded him a little of Ginger, only without any of the bitterness or claws.

“Don’t mind me,” she said with a wave. “I’ve imagined you naked plenty of times, and my imagination is usually pretty accurate.”

Ox felt an unexpected blush. “Why are you imagining me naked again?”

Tayla looked him up and down with a critical eye. “This is when I say duh. I imagine all good-looking men without their clothes. It’s one of the benefits of reading a lot.” She closed her eyes and circled her hand beside her temple. “I have cultivated my mental camera.”

“And that mental camera leaves off the clothes?”

“Mostly.” She opened her eyes and stood up. “Don’t pretend you don’t do it with women. And don’t pretend you’re not wondering if Emmie’s mental camera is as fine-tuned as mine.”

Well, now he wouldn’t be able to think about anything else. Did Emmie imagine him naked every time she looked at him?

“The girl has a good imagination, Ox. And that’s all I’ll say about that,” Tayla continued. “I need to get out there again, so I will allow you your privacy. Please be social media ready by the time you leave this room.”

“You’re too kind, madam.” Ox bowed as she passed by.

Tayla paused. “You’re good. You will be devastating when you get your head out of your ass and make a move on the girl. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Ox straightened. “Noticed what?”

“Are you going to make me say duh again?”

Best friends saw too much.

“We both agreed it was a bad idea to get involved,” Ox said.

“Who was the one who suggested it?”

Him. Clearly Tayla already knew that.

“So who has to be the one to put an end to this foolishness?” she continued.

Ox didn’t say a word.

“I wouldn’t waste time if I were you.” Tayla leaned closer. “You’re far from the only one who’s noticed.”

She patted Ox on the shoulder and walked out of the office. Ox shut the door, locked it, and took a minute to recover from the experience that was Tayla McKinnon.

Then he thought about Emmie’s “mental camera” again.

Damn it.