Theresa Dawson did not have a good effect on him.

The taste and scent of her body had taken his mind hostage, and now he couldn’t think about anything else.

Damn. He hoped she didn’t think he’d only had sex with her in order to stop her talking about raising the rent again. Though even he had to admit, as far as diversion tactics went, it had been a pretty good one.

He tried to concentrate on his latest client—a quiet young woman in her mid-twenties, who’d walked in here with her head down and her hair falling over her face. He hoped she’d be leaving with more confidence in her step.

Art needed to figure out what he was going to do about his own situation. He couldn’t couch surf for the rest of his life. He wished he had enough spare cash to rent somewhere, but everything was tied up in the shop. Each time he thought he was going to have something spare at the end of the month, another bill came up, or a piece of equipment broke. He didn’t need much to live. He’d spent the previous night with a sleeping bag under the counter of the shop, and he figured he’d be spending tonight in exactly the same way. It was torture knowing Tess was lying in a bed right above him, and it would be even worse now he’d had a taste of what she was really like. He’d considered her to be uptight, but the way she’d allowed him to turn her around and bend her over the stairs, she’d acted anything but.

He finished up his work for the day, washed off the last of the ink and blood from the woman’s skin, and then started to wrap the artwork in cling-film. He glanced up to see tears running down her face.

“Hey, are you all right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it just means so much to me. I can’t thank you enough.”

He smiled. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I was able to help.”

“You have. I can’t explain how much you have.”

They were left clearing up. “You okay, boss?” called Rocco. “We’re heading out for a couple of beers, you want to join?”

“Nah, you’re all right. I’ve got stuff to do here.”

“Seriously? All work and no play, Art.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know, but someone’s got to keep this place together.” His seriousness had come across more than he’d intended, and Rocco’s face pinched in concern.

“Anything we can do to help?”

“Nah, just trouble with her upstairs.” His lifted his eyes to the ceiling and then rolled them, and the atmosphere relaxed.

Rocco chuckled. “She’s got you under the thumb already.”

“More like has his balls in a vice,” joked Kane, who’d overheard. “But Art probably likes it like that.”

“At least someone’s paying attention to my balls,” he threw back. “Been a while since you last pulled, Kane.”

“I’m saving myself for the right girl,” he bantered. “One that’s double jointed and bendy as fuck.”

Art laughed. “Good luck with that. You might want to start checking out any local circus acts.”

He threw him a salute. “Will do, boss.”

“See you tomorrow.”

He watched the other two as they left, the door shutting behind them. He envied them their simple lives. Maybe he should go back to that, and work for someone else. It would make life a lot easier, but then he wouldn’t be free to work on what he wanted. He enjoyed being his own boss. Working for someone else would hurt. He wasn’t sure he could do it now, but he might not have any choice. Especially if Tess got her way and increased the rent even more.

He kept a kettle and mugs in what they used as a staffroom out the back of the shop, so he made himself ramen noodles for dinner and hung out in the shop, clearing up and getting some paperwork done. His heart lurched with every sound from upstairs, wondering what she was doing or if she’d come down. He didn’t like to think of her up there alone. She was in a city where she didn’t know anyone. It was insane that he was sitting down here, while she was up there, but he didn’t want her to know he was staying in the studio. As far as she was aware, the place was empty and he’d packed up and gone home.

Problem was, he didn’t have a home to go to.