Chapter Twenty-Three
The low buzz of tattoo guns usually soothed Gabe, but today he wanted to throw them through the window. Two days. Two goddamn days he’d been back in town and he hadn’t heard a single thing. He propped his feet on the chair and wondered what he was even doing here. It seemed like a decent idea at the time—he didn’t want to be alone, so he came into the shop. But all it’d done was remind him how unnecessary he was here. Somehow, over the years, he’d become more guest artist than a regular, all his time spent on the nightclubs. It had never bothered him before, but now it was like he didn’t have a single goddamn thing holding him in town.
Maybe he should take off, catch the next flight to Seattle. He could hop down the coast and visit the clubs he hadn’t been to in a while. Anything to keep his mind off how much he ached. Who would have thought that two fucking weeks would be enough to send him spiraling over some chick?
The bell above the door jingled, and he nearly fell out of his chair when he saw her walk into his shop. He must have been dreaming, damn it. There was no way this was happening.
Why was she here? He tried to ask, but couldn’t get his mouth to work as Elle crossed the shiny wooden floor to stand before him. The woman was a vision, her long dress hugging every curve and leaving her shoulders bare. The bright tropical print set off her sun-kissed skin and blond hair, and all he wanted in that moment was to yank her into his lap and hold her until he was sure this was real. No. That wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be thinking about touching her—not when things had ended so shitty last time.
“Hi.”
Right, he should be talking right now. Gabe jumped up. “What are you doing here?” What a thing to say. Shit. “Damn it, that’s not what I meant.” He really didn’t want to do this where both his artists and their clients could see, but there was nowhere else to go unless he wanted to have this conversation in the bathroom. Christ, what was he even thinking? The woman made him crazy.
Why was she here?
Elle actually smiled. “I got your package.” One of the guys laughed, and her face went crimson. “Er, you know what I mean. It was too much.”
So she’d come here to argue about it. Gabe sank into his rolling chair, his stomach tied up in knots. This woman made him feel like he was back in high school, a bumbling fool who couldn’t do anything right.
“But…the note was unexpected.” She glanced at the other people in the shop, all now blatantly watching them. For a second, he thought she’d bail, but she squared her shoulders and spoke in a rush. “I finished my painting.”
Gabe blinked. “Painting.”
“Yes, a painting.” Her hands did a nervous flutter. “It’s one I started the day after we, well, you know.” Elle looked up and met his gaze. “Of you. I’d, ah, like you to come over and give me your opinion.”
A painting? Of him? Could that mean… Gabe shoved to his feet. “Let’s go.”
“Hold on.” She pushed him back into his chair. “I’m really, really sorry that I freaked out on you. Remember that guy who my brother beat up? Well, I fell head-over-heels for him and he was a bad boy like you. Only not like you, because you’re really not like him at all. He didn’t care about me, and all he wanted was to get into my pants, and apparently the pants of every other girl on campus while he was dating me. But then he broke up with me and made sure to do it in front of my friends in the most humiliating way possible.” Christ, he’d known that dude was an asshole, but Gabe hadn’t expected this. She took a deep breath, and rushed on before he could reach for her. “Basically, what I’m trying to say is that my trust issues aren’t your fault, but I took them out on you anyway. Please forgive me.”
“Ancient history, babe. I want to see this painting.” A painting of him.
“There’s more.”
More? What could there possibly be more of? But she rushed on before he could get the courage to give his question voice.
“I’m here for a tattoo.”
The woman was moving too fast for him to keep up. “A tattoo.”
“Yes, a tattoo.”
None of this made any sense. “What would your mother think?”
“I don’t care what my mother thinks.” Elle put her hands on her hips. “You know, you’re not making this easy.”
It was like they were having a conversation and he was only hearing part of it. “I don’t get it. Why do you want a tattoo? Why here?”
“Were you serious about the stuff you wrote?”
Hell, he’d spent hours agonizing over that stupid letter and the damn thing didn’t even take up half a page. “Yeah, I was.”
She let out a breath. “Well, it turns out I’m falling for you, too. And you make me really, really happy.”
Gabe’s mouth fell open.
“You see,” she continued before he could say anything, “after the really traumatic stuff with my ex, I thought my taste in men couldn’t be trusted. My mother enthusiastically agreed, which is why she’s been trying to push me into relationships with ’respectable’ men for the last few years. But the funny thing is, if I’d have been brave enough to trust my instincts, you’re exactly who I would have picked for myself.”
“I—what?” She would have picked him. Gabe blinked at her, distantly wondering how often she was going to sucker punch him like this…or if he even minded.
“Yes, Gabe. I would have picked you. I do pick you.” She gave him a nervous smile. “And it’s the best decision I’ve ever made.”
He was pretty sure the floor just fell out from underneath him. This was definitely a dream. No way in reality would Elle come walking into his shop and tell him she was falling for him. That she’d pick him over everyone else. That kind of shit didn’t happen to guys like him.
When he didn’t say anything, she took a deep breath. “So…remember that conversation we had at dinner? The one where we talked about people getting tattoos to remember certain things?”
“Yes.” As if he’d forget any of their time together—not when he’d spent all his time poring over every single moment of it.
“Well, that’s why I want a tattoo. Because I feel like my entire life has been turned on its head since I met you. I thought I was playing it safe, but really I was hiding. I’m not going to hide anymore. If that’s not something to commemorate, I don’t know what is.”
Gabe held out his hand, still half-sure she wasn’t serious. But then Elle slipped her hand into his and it hit him—this was real. She was here and actually saying these things. He pulled her into his lap, and she didn’t even shriek in protest. Instead, she settled there as if this were the most natural thing in the world. “You’re serious?”
Elle cupped his face with one hand. “I’m serious. I’m falling for you, Gabe Schultz, and I would very much like you to tattoo me.”
It was only then he noticed the paper in her other hand. Settling her more firmly in his lap, he took the paper. It was an exact replica of the painting he’d bought her. “This is some serious work.”
“I thought we could start small.” She pointed to the flower on the shoulder blade of the woman in the picture. “Maybe see how things go and work from there.”
Yeah, they weren’t just talking about tattoos. “Just so happens, my schedule is cleared for the day.” Even if it hadn’t been, he would have canceled on the president for this woman. He pulled her closer, loving the feel of her hips under his hands. It was like the perfect Christmas morning he’d never had as a child. The one where he woke up to realize he’d gotten the one thing he always wanted.
Elle kissed him, right there in front of everyone. Her tongue traced his, unbearably sweet despite the way she set him on fire. And she wanted him. Gabe wanted to shout it to the world. He gentled the kiss, finally leaning back with a grin. “You ready, babe? This is a big step.”
She kissed him again. “I’ll be in your hands, so I think I’m good. Let’s do this.”