Day three of the shop being open is about as busy as day one was—just a trickle of customers after I’d left to take Nosko home with me. Varos tells me that word of mouth takes a little time to build up steam. I’ll have to take him at his word on that.

I’m oddly okay with the shop not being packed with people in this first week. Treasured Ink is a labor of love for me, just like it is for the rest of them. A place to kick up our heels, do what we love at the level we love it, and just let the rough end drag.

It’s approaching lunch and the only client in the shop is in Bronaz’ chair, leaving me to put the finishing touches on Nosko’s design. Nosko’s due in soon and I want to have several designs ready to show him. Now that I’ve had an up-close-and-personal look at the ink sight, the outer forearm, I know what to expect in terms of detail I can do.

And I’m acquainted with his pain threshold, too.

I have to shift in my chair before I spring a boner thinking about that again. Little omega was feisty. While I have fast healing, it still takes some time for deep scratches to fade.

Distantly, I hear the door chime over the sound of the blaring music Sako insists on blasting through the speakers. As long as it fits the atmosphere of the shop, I don’t really care what it is. Keeping the vibe up is key. It helps keep the clients engaged and when in the chair for long periods of time, gives them something to zone out over.

Varos peeks around the divider that separates the waiting area and reception counter from the main body of the shop. “Heads up, Taran. Client here to see your sketches.”

“Is that what we call it these days?” Bronaz teases, not even bothering to look up from his work, the jerk. I show him my middle finger. I know he saw that when he bursts into laughter.

When Nosko comes into view, fighting that boner is now a full-time job. He’s dressed for work in a nice pair of slacks and a crisp white shirt. The tie is understated as well. If I didn’t know better, and I do, he looks like any nervous salary man in the city.

His nerves are anything but that. Looking at him, I don’t think anyone could tell with his darting looks and flighty mannerisms, but I know even without having fucked him. Nosko is just observant. I learned that the morning after when I took him back to bed for one final roll before we had to return to the normal world.

I shift onto my stool and wave him over to take a seat in the chair. “Afternoon, Nosko,” I say, flipping the pages on my sketch pad back. “Or is it evening?”

“After work is a time caught in that weird between time,” Nosko says. He pauses, looking at me, his gaze darting to my lips like he was thinking about kissing me. Something stops him and he slides awkwardly into the chair.

“I’ve been working on some ideas,” I say to cut through his awkwardness. “Ready to see them?”

Nosko rubs his hands along his thighs and takes a deep breath before nodding quickly. When he does that, he is every bit the younger dragon I know he is.

I flip the pad open and hold the book out to him. “That one, and the next four after it.”

Nosko’s lips part with a small gasp as he looks through them, flipping back and forth between the pages. “They’re amazing.”

Well, yeah, I admit they are. Some might accuse me of being arrogant. Maybe I am.

I’m damn sure confident in my ability to create art on someone’s skin. Many years apprenticed to some of the best masters in the business, along with, what I’ve been told, a natural artistic ability, has made me one of the masters of ink now. I trade on it.

Nosko is not going to get less than my best, either.

“I can’t decide,” Nosko says, setting the pad on his thighs. “They’re all so beautiful.”

“Here,” I motion for the pad and then Nosko’s arm. “Push up your sleeve.”

Nosko complies and extends his arm. I hold the pad beneath his arm and position the sketch next to it. “Use your imagination.”

Confusion crosses his features before he catches on to what I’m doing, and he takes the pad from me again and starts to compare the sketch next to his forearm. A few times, he turns his arm over to see what it’d look like on the inner arm area. “What do you think?” he asks.

“It’d look great,” I say, eyeing him. “But it depends on your threshold of pain. That’s not my first choice for someone new to tattoos.”

Nosko considers that for a moment and nods, turning his arm back over. “I hate pain.”

Yeah, he says that but his sneaky smile lets me know he remembers the night we spent together. While I wasn’t rough or anything, he didn’t encourage me to be gentle, either.

“Cheeky,” I say with a laugh.

“Which one do you like?” he asks a little more solemnly. “They’re all perfect.”

We talk a little bit about the purpose of the tattoo. I know what he said when he first came in, but it helps to reinforce in his mind why he’s doing it.

After some deliberation, he opens to the sketch I made of a Whiptail dragon stretched out pre-flight from a rock in a small pond. “This one.”

If I didn’t already know we were fated mates, I’d think that was coincidental. Instead, I know better. I knew it the moment I drew it that it would be his pick.

It was a fairly simple design, all things considered. “I estimate this won’t take long at all. Three to four hours? Again, it depends on how long you can tolerate the pain before we have to stop.”

That sly smile crosses Nosko’s lips again. He makes it damn hard to resist leaning over and taking that smirk in a kiss. I manage to avoid doing that and sit back on my stool.

“Do you have time to start tonight?”

I glance around the shop. “I don’t know, we’re pretty busy right now…”

Nosko flaps the pad at me before holding it out. “Smart ass.”

I take it and store it under my cart. “We can do the line work and start the shading tonight if that’s what you want. Let me grab the waivers and get your arm prepped.”

I’ve never been an office sort of guy, spending all my time working in shops. Or any place that would allow me to keep it real. The standard dress for me is always t-shirt, jeans, and boots.

Nosko was dressed casually the other day, and now he’s all kitted out in office attire. So when he strips off his shirt, he’s wearing a white t-shirt beneath it. I didn’t think they still did that.

Then again, men’s fashion was never my thing anyway.

At any other time, I would have thought it a very geeky move. Only nerds wore t-shirts beneath their dress shirts, right?

On Nosko, it’s sexy.

Sexy as hell.

He’s smaller, as omegas usually are, but like I discovered when he was in my bed, his body holds a quiet strength to it.

Bent over his arm, I concentrate on the lines, first. The hum of the machine provides the perfect thing to focus on to keep my mind on my work and not on his whipcord body.

I’m so thankful that Nosko finds things to talk about to fill the time. If it puts him at ease, all to the better.

I half respond as I focus on the needles and the ink, tuning in to his discomfort levels.

Sitting back to see how the lines are coming along, I am once more confident that I’m doing some of my best work, even if the design is simple. “Was she married?”

Nosko is intently watching as the design slowly takes shape on his forearm. “Twice. Lost her first husband. No one knows to what. She never talked about it. Then she married my grandfather. That didn’t last long, either.”

“She lose him, too?”

There’s a pause before Nosko laughs. Damn, it’s nice to know someone who gets my sense of humor instead of being all pissed off and offended.

“Sort of?” he finally answers. “Turns out even car wrecks can take out a dragon if the damage is severe enough to their human form.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.”

“It’s okay. She decided after that she was done with the whole relationship thing and got involved politically.” Nosko leans back and closes his eyes. “She never gave up on love, but decided the pain was not worth the risk.”

“That’s a tough philosophy. Guess it didn’t stick with her kids.”

“I’m living proof. My parents are ridiculously in love. Don’t get me wrong, I loved her so much and her death hit me really hard but I didn’t agree with her.”

“You think love is worth the risk of getting hurt?”

“Yeah. I mean, you know, love is what makes all things worth it. What about you?”

I pause to straighten my back and roll my head to work out the tension from being hunched over. “Relationships?”

The question is obviously earnest and it’s hard to miss the hopefulness in Nosko’s eyes. If he was any other guy, dragon or not, that I had no interest in pursuing things with, I might even be a little pissed at the pressure.

Nosko isn’t any of those from my past. There is no mistaking he’s my fated mate.

And if there were any doubt, my dragon would remind me rather aggressively every time I look at Nosko.

I still don’t have an answer for him that would make sense. I don’t really know if I can put it into words if I did know. “I used to think relationships took time to develop.”

With Nosko intently watching me, I avoid his gaze by getting back to work. Having that to do is a good place of safety to work through these conflicting feelings.

“You don’t now?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

A chuckle. “Guess not.”

I leave the conversation there. Not that I’m avoiding the subject, although I probably am, just a little bit. But only because I really haven’t given it much more thought. It’s obvious Nosko has, and that puts me at a disadvantage, which is uncomfortable for me.

One thing that I can’t deny is this intense attraction I feel for Nosko. It doesn’t even cross my mind to fight it.

“Here’s the care instructions,” I say as Nosko buttons his shirt. He smooths his hand over the bandage and I smack his hand away. “Leave it alone. All I have left is color and you’ll be done. We can finish it up next week.”

“How much do I owe you?”

Yeah, this is the part I wasn’t looking forward to. This is my fated mate that I just inked. What exactly is the protocol for that? Half price? Free? Let him pay?

What kind of jerk makes his fated mate pay for a tattoo? This is stupid for me to even get upset about.

My dragon stirs restlessly and growls deep in the pit of my core in agreement.

“Drinks,” I offer. “Unless you have to go back to work.”

Nosko puts his watch back on as he checks the time. “No, it’s fine. I closed the gallery before I came here.”

“So drinks it is. This time, I pick the place.”

Giving Bronaz a shout that I’m leaving, I steer Nosko out and direct him down the street. “A good place is just around the corner. Dragon owned. They even have pool tables, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“Backgammon is more my speed,” Nosko says.

Nosko’s hand fits so perfectly in mine. I don’t mind being seen walking with him as he quizzes me on the best product to use on his tattoo once we’re done and how to properly care for it.

We push into The Air Lair and immediately the thump of the bass coming from the DJ’s station beats like a mother’s heartbeat. Even in a no-smoking zone, the air is thick with it. Part from the fog machine, part from the game of Dragon’s Fire at the far end of the bar. Humans and dragons alike test their mettle with the fiery concoctions, although dragons have the advantage. Humans are none the wiser, thinking that the dragons are just better at it or used to it.

Dangerous. But not surprising. Humans have that tendency to not think things through.

Although, I’m not really sure dragons are much better at it.

A table against the back wall opens up and I take the lead, cutting through the heavy crowd with confidence. Nosko’s grip tightens on my hand so we don’t lose each other.

Nosko once again saves us from the silence, finding conversation topics which have us talking like old friends. Maybe we were, long ago, in different incarnations of life.

It’s comfortable. It’s easy. I’m more at ease with him than I have been with anyone in a very long time.

This thrills me, and makes me uncomfortable.

We barely know each other and I find my thoughts drift to what it would be like to come home to Nosko every night. How my thoughts for the past few days have been filled with him and little else.

Then, there was the conversation about love in the shop. Stirring up all kinds of feelings that I’m not ready to process.

Is this moving too fast?

Hell if I know.

A part of me wants to bolt fast before it gets too complicated. The other part says it’s too late for that. Should we even talk about it? Talk about how fast things are progressing? Or am I the only one who really feels this way?

Maybe I’m just over thinking things. Wouldn’t be a first. Nyve accuses me of it all the time.

I know what his advice would be. That I should follow my instincts on this.

I do know I don’t like Nosko being on the opposite side of the table, so I shift my chair around to sit next to him. Putting my arm around him settles him perfectly against me. Feeling his body warmth is a balm to my tousled and conflicted emotions. In this place, at this time, all I want is to be filled with him in my life.

Taking his mouth in a kiss, now I wish I’d asked him to come home again. Or go home with him. To feel warm and naked skin pressed against mine.

When we part, he’s got a goofy smile on his face and it makes me laugh. “What?”

Nosko shakes his head. “I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Guess I’m just a spur of the moment kind of guy.”

By the time we leave the bar, I’m feeling toasty. I’m still a little off balance, not just from the alcohol, but in trying to figure out what any of this really means for me. It’s hard to say what Nosko is feeling, and I don’t give him the chance. I push him against the wall of the building as we wait for the cab to take him home.

Our mouths find each other easily enough in the half dark. He smells of smoke and tastes of beer and feels like a warm cuddle beneath the covers. His hands roam my back, nails digging in to grab handfuls of my shirt. If I could take him right there I would.

Obscenity laws are expensive to make go away.

“Would you consider coming home with me again?” I ask breathlessly between kisses.

Nosko moans in my mouth and I want it desperately to be a yes. My dragon’s reaction, sullen and sulky, is the indication it’s going to be a no.

“I can’t,” Nosko says when I finally let him breathe. “I really have to be on time at work tomorrow.”

I’m not about to give up. “I can make sure you’re on time.”

Nosko laughs and wedges his hands between us. He’s not fighting all that hard but he does manage to keep us pushed apart so I don’t distract him with another kiss. “No you can’t. I have this feeling you’ll just do what you did last time.”

“What did I do last time?” I mock-challenge.

“Oh you know perfectly well. You’re a distraction and one of us has to have a level head.”

The banter is fun and I really do want him to come home with me. I also know he’s right. If I could fill up his time, I would, that’s how much I want him right now. He knows it, too, which is why he’s being the strong one.

“Fine,” I say gruffly. After a toe-curling, aggressive kiss that leaves him panting, I pull back, just out of reach. I’m rewarded with that cute little whimper that I love to hear.

Nosko pins me with an accusatory glare. It’s cute. “You play dirty.”

“You love it.”

“And you’re a jerk.”

“You want more.”

“I do.” Nosko glances at his watch and sighs. “But really. Not tonight. I’ve been out for too long already.”

“I’m a bad influence,” I agree.

Just when I think I can convince Nosko to come home with me, I have the bad fortune of the cab actually showing up at a reasonable time after being called. The horn’s beep brings that reality crashing home.

One more kiss, this one gentler than the last, lasting as long as I can get away with before Nosko is pushing me off again. “Good night, Taran.”

“Sweet dreams, Nosko.”

He tosses a smile over his shoulder before climbing into the cab. I watch it pull away and eventually get lost in the traffic.

Already I feel his loss and it’s not a comfortable feeling. It sits heavy and empty in my chest. My dragon growls in disappointment.

I am so screwed.