He was an idiot and he was surprised she hadn’t slapped him for nosing in where he didn’t belong. He was as bad as one of Abby’s goats.

The tattoo had been a shocker, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Emmie had grown up with Spider, she likely didn’t have any qualms about tattooing. He’d spotted her examining his ink more than once. It was one of the reasons he’d been so quick to pull off his shirt. She liked it.

But her work?

He’d only gotten an impression of it. Leaves and the edge of a wing. A bird? The vivid red had been the first thing to catch his eye. He didn’t work in color much even though he’d been trained across all different styles—his specialty was black and grey.

But he wanted to press his lips to that red.

She kept it secret, and he wanted to see it. She was pale. The colors would be vivid. And the design started right at the top of her supremely excellent ass. She kept it hidden, but he knew it was there.

Ox had a sudden mental picture of Emmie back up on the ladder, her lower back at eye level. He wanted to lift her shirt and lick up her spine in that warm soft curve at the small of her back where he’d seen vines and leaves curling. He wanted to press his hands into the soft swell of her—

“Fuck.” Ox rammed his toe into the base of his counter. He had to stop thinking about her.

“What was that?” she yelled.

“Just kicked my counter. Accident. No big deal… Buttons.”

“Stop calling me that.”

Buttons. The name made him smile. “I like buttons.”

Yeah, so do I, Emmie. Bet I could find a few of yours if I tried.

She was fucking adorable and unintentionally hilarious. How was he going to get this chick out of his head? He flipped open the catalog and started jotting down a list to start an order when he got back to the ranch. He needed to bring his laptop in to the shop, but he’d been letting Abby use it for school and was using it to watch TV in his room. Maybe he’d get a separate one for the shop. He pulled out his phone and looked at prices.

Shiiiiit. Maybe not. Abby would have to use her mom’s computer.

Emmie left the shop and walked upstairs to her apartment. Every now and then when he’d been working late over the past few weeks, he’d heard her up there, puttering around. She played music. He heard the TV every now and then, but not often. Mostly it was music. Folksy stuff with guitars and banjos and shit. She probably listened to music while she read. Sometimes it was just a piano. He wanted to sit in a corner and sketch her while she read. Sometimes he’d catch her reading a book, and he liked the tiny expressions that crossed her face when she was deep in concentration.

Ox vaguely remembered a time when he’d thought Emmie would be boring. He didn’t remember why he’d thought that, but he’d been wrong. With some people, quiet meant boring. With Emmie, it just meant he couldn’t quite figure her out. And that was interesting as hell.

She came down a few minutes later wearing another baggy sweater. “Hey, I’m going out for lunch. You want anything?”

For you to take off that god-awful sweater? “You going to Café Maya?”

“Yeah.”

“Coffee would be great.”

She flashed him a smile before she slipped out the door. “You got it.”

A few minutes after she left, Adrian Saroyan, the asshole real estate guy, walked past on Main.

“Keep walking,” Ox muttered. “She’s not here.”

Sadly, Adrian walked in, his designer suit spotless and his shoes shined. Ox glanced down at his boots.

They were not shiny.

“Hey!” Adrian said in a newly familiar greeting. “Emmie around?” The first time he’d come by it had been “Good afternoon.” The second time, it had been “Nice to see you again.” And now it was simply “Hey.” Ox wished the guy would get the hint.

He flipped past the piercing supplies in the catalog. “She’s not here.”

The bright white smile didn’t waver and the man's hair didn't move. “I sure wish I knew what her hours were. I’d really like to speak to Emmie.”

Ox could have told him she’d just left for lunch and she’d be back in an hour, but… he didn’t want to. “She’s the boss,” he said simply. “Keeps her own hours.”

“You’ve been giving her my messages?”

“Yep.”

Adrian nodded slowly. “And you’re sure she has my card?”

“You can leave another one on the counter if you want. I’ll let her know it’s there.”

The man’s friendly demeanor cracked just a little. “No, that’s fine. I’m afraid…”

Ox looked up.

Adrian continued, “I’m afraid I made a bad first impression the last time we spoke.”

“Didn’t you go to school with her or something?”

“I did.”

“So when was the bad first impression?” Ox asked. “Back in first grade or something?”

He knew exactly what Adrian was talking about, but he didn’t feel like cutting the man any slack. According to Emmie, the first time she’d run into the guy after she’d moved back to town, he’d pressured her into selling her building or letting him rent it out as a property manager, basically implying her business was doomed before it started. That kind of shit pissed Ox off. You think someone was fooling themselves and taking a bad risk? Keep it to yourself unless they ask you for your opinion. Every damn person thought their opinion was like gold these days.

Ox blamed Facebook.

Adrian said, “I haven’t had a chance to talk to her again after our first meeting. Since I only ever seem to find you here, just tell her I stopped by and that I’d really like to speak to her again. Not about anything to do with selling or renting the place. I’d just like to see… her.”

Ox narrowed his eyes on the man.

Shit.

He didn’t want Emmie’s shop. He wanted Emmie.

And Ox should not have had a problem with that. In fact, if Emmie hooked up with Mr. Shiny Shoes, it would be best. Then she’d be off-limits and Ox could stop thinking about her. He didn’t fool around with women who were in relationships. Adrian Saroyan, real estate agent, was probably the kind of guy she’d go for anyway. Girls like Emmie fooled around with guys like Ox, but they didn’t get serious about them. They got serious with guys who wore ties, gelled their hair, and had office hours.

Adrian’s frown made Ox realize his lip was curled. He cleared his throat and flipped the catalog closed. “Yeah, I’ll let her know you came by. Sorry, man, that’s all I can do.”

And I will not be giving her your heartfelt sentiments about seeing her. Fuck you.

Ox smiled and put his hands in his pockets, glancing meaningfully at the door.

“Right,” Adrian said. “Thanks for all your… help.”

“You’re very welcome.”

But don’t come back until you wash the shit out of your hair.

An hour later, like clockwork, Emmie returned from lunch. Ox was working on screwing his counters into the wall, wincing as he drilled through the old plasterwork, when she set his coffee on the floor.

“One large coffee. Black with two sugars.”

He rolled up to sitting and set the drill down. “Buttons, you are my coffee angel.”

She rolled her eyes. “If you tell Tayla that name—”

“I won’t.” He grinned. “It’s my own special name just for you.”

“Thanks.” She walked back to her shelves. “I feel so honored.”

She took off her oversized sweater and tossed it on the wingback chair in the lounge area. Beneath it, she’d changed into a slightly-less-baggy-than-normal green T-shirt that read One More Chapter across the bust like a nerdy sorority shirt.

“Your friend Adrian came by again.”

“Not my friend.” She made a face. “Can that guy not get a hint?”

The face made Ox smile inside. Suck it, Shiny Shoes.

She climbed up the ladder and started dusting again. When she lifted her arms, the shirt rode up and he could see the edge of her tattoo.

He tore his eyes away from that sliver of skin.

Business. Strictly. Business.