The heat radiating from the coffees burned Melanie’s palms. She bit down on her bottom lip and tried to shift the cardboard tray around, but it was stacked so precariously with cups that it wasn’t going anywhere fast. Wincing, she opened the door to Thorn Tattoo with her elbow and the toe of her ankle boot and hurried down the stairs. If she could make it to the front counter and set the coffees down, she could relieve the pain.

“Oh, Melanie. Hey.” Jill was at the front desk today. Leaning over, elbows planted on the tabletop, she read a magazine while watching a group of older teenage girls flocked by the jewelry display across from the front desk. “Wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

“It’s Wednesday,” Melanie said brightly. She set the coffees down on the desk and fanned her hands to work some of the burn from them. “Wednesday is coffee day. I couldn’t be late for that.” Melanie had started the tradition hoping it would help gain favor in the shop and it was a nice way to celebrate the midweek, even if they’d only been open for two days.

“Mm.” Jill looked back down at her magazine. “I guess so. You get mine?”

“Mocaccino, one shot of espresso, with whipped cream and caramel drizzle.” Melanie pulled the cup from the coffee holder and placed it in front of Jill. Jill was one of the shop’s newest additions but Melanie had been quick to get to know her preferences. “Right?”

“You got it.” Jill arched a brow. “You remember everyone’s orders off the top of your head?”

“I try to.”

“Jeeze. Sometimes I don’t even remember what my boyfriend takes in his coffee, and we’ve been together for three years.” Still leaning, Jill removed the plastic cap from her cup and blew gently at its contents. Steam rose. “Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” Melanie wrestled two more cups from the stacked holder. “Everyone in their stations?”

“As far as I know. It’s been busy this morning. With Gio and Riley on the road as guest artists, we’re a little shorthanded.” Jill shrugged. “It’s not a big deal with Luciano back in the shop, but I think everyone’s still adjusting to the new atmosphere. Different tattoo artists, different environment… or something.”

Melanie understood different environments well. For the past two years, she’d been employed by Thorn Tattoo as Luciano DeRose’s personal assistant. Most of that time had been spent on the road. They’d traveled from Thorn Tattoo in beautiful Las Vegas to the west coast, all through California, Oregon, and Washington. From there they’d shot across to Colorado, then into Texas. They’d zigged and zagged their way through the country, Chicago to Nashville, Nashville to Atlanta, Atlanta to New York City and frankly, Melanie was worn out long before they hit the international circuit. Australia, Japan, Thailand, and an almost surreal stop in Dubai. It was too bad the majority of their time was spent in tattoo parlors and conventions. She would have loved to sightsee.

While she hated the nomadic lifestyle, she would have quit long ago if it weren’t for how much she loved her job.

Being close to Luciano made the discomfort of moving so often worthwhile. Too bad he was her employer. She knew it was inappropriate to have romantic feelings for him; crushing on your boss definitely crossed the line well into unprofessional behavior. Especially not while his heart was still firmly wrapped around another.

Coffee cups in hand, Melanie began to make her rounds. Ben was in his tattoo bay, working with a client on a concept sketch. She slid his coffee across the table to him, and he winked at her and shot a thumb’s up. Mal was in the bay next door, already inking, so Melanie placed his cup gently on his desk and exited before she interrupted him.

Thorn Tattoo had a decades old reputation in Las Vegas dating back to the city’s mobster heyday and while it didn’t have an international reputation, it survived where others had failed. Since she’d been on the road, Thorn Tattoo had changed. When she’d left, it had been a reputable shop with high quality artists struggling to make ends meet. Somehow, in her absence, Giovanni and Antonio DeRose, Luciano’s brothers, had turned it around. The skill of the artists in the shop had dramatically increased. Thorn Tattoo was gaining worldwide recognition. There were people who flew in internationally to come to appointments with them.

Best of all, it had brought Luciano home.

Melanie returned to her mountain of coffee and freed the top stack from the bottom. Cardboard tray in hand, she made the rest of her rounds. Some of the artists noticed her and smiled. Others didn’t. She let it roll off her shoulders. To the rest of them, she was still a new face at the shop. They didn’t seem to care that she’d been part of the Thorn Tattoo family for two years. To them, she was a stranger in the establishment. One without the prerequisite body piercings and body-covering tattoos. Oh, she had a few tattoos but they were well hidden and tasteful. Piercings were something entirely else as she shivered at the thought of it.

Luciano had brought them home two weeks ago, and that was only because Giovanni and Riley had begged him to return.

Las Vegas was exactly how Melanie remembered it. The days were hot and the nights sizzled. Vibrant lights dazzled. Washed out faces and individuals too glamorous to be real shared the same streets. Las Vegas was a melting pot. It was fast-paced, commercial, and superficial.

She loved it for every one of its flaws. If she had her way, she’d never leave again.

Luciano’s was the last bay she visited. Melanie pushed through the swinging saloon doors into his space. To her surprise, he wasn’t sitting with a client, he was on the phone. Luciano leaned back in the chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealed tanned skin and a colorful assortment of images hinting at much more ink covering his muscular body. His eyes were squeezed shut and, not for the first time, Melanie realized seeing those smoky browns every day was one of the reasons why she tortured herself like this.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I thought it’d be possible, but it turns out it isn’t. I’m looking to stay late that Friday—like late late. The shop’s staying open so I can get a few more appointments in. Would you be open to something, say, eleven PM on Friday the twenty-eighth?”

Melanie frowned. She set the coffee down on Luciano’s table, and then approached him where he sat. He drummed his fingers against his thigh nervously. As his assistant, Melanie was responsible for overseeing his bookings. It was the first she’d heard about staying late to work. She ran his schedule through her head trying to figure out what she could have missed. Then it hit her. Luciano was clearing his schedule for April twenty-seventh.

The anniversary had snuck up on her. In their haste to return to Vegas, she’d forgotten all about it and now it was a month away.

“Right,” Luciano said. He sounded stressed. “I know that’s late. What about something on the weekend? Or we could push things back farther if you wanted.”

Melanie laid a hand gently on his shoulder, and Luciano lifted his head to look up at her. His dark-brown hair was pushed back from his eyes and gelled to look messy, and his beard was immaculately trimmed—neither too long nor too bushy. His chocolate brown eyes, which when he turned on the charm often made her heart flutter in a most inappropriate way, was brimmed with stress and worry.

“Yeah, Sunday works for me if it works for you. Yeah, I know we’re usually closed, but I’m trying to balance things. It’s just that day I can’t come in. I’m not looking to cancel on you to get you out of my hair. I’d kill to do some tribal right now.”

Sunday and Monday the shop was closed. Melanie pursed her lips. Was he really willing to come in on his day off to avoid that day?

“Yeah. I’ve got you. Lemme just make a note here so I don’t forget, and then we’ll be good to go. You’ll have your new ink before that Monday.”

Melanie made a mental note to get in touch with Antonio and mention what was going on. She had a feeling Luciano would forget.

“Okay. Cool. So, I’ll see you then. Make sure you knock at the door and I’ll let you in.” He disconnected the call and set the phone down, shoulders slumping. Melanie squeezed his shoulder and shook her head. She opened her lips to speak, but before she could say a word, his phone rang again and he scrambled to pick it up. “Hello?”

How early had he arrived in order to get the calls placed before she got there? Melanie sighed and moved back to his coffee. Luciano had developed a taste for nitro brew while they were in Chicago, and Melanie was delighted to find a coffee bar nearby that offered it on tap. She lifted the top off the plastic cup and brought it over to him. Luciano shot her an apologetic look.

Every year it was the same. April twenty-seventh, no matter what events were planned or what needed to be done, Luciano checked out of reality for the day and holed up where no one could reach him. Melanie had made the mistake of trying to book him without realizing the date.

“Yeah, the slot for nine on that Friday is still open. Let me slot you in. Thanks for getting back to me so quickly with your decision.” Luciano scribbled something in his appointment book. Thorn Tattoo used a digital system for bookings, which allowed the artists to reference their appointments from their phones, but Luciano still used paper. Melanie made another mental note to add the app to both their phones and set up reminders. Planning was extremely important to her, and she refused to be blindsided.

“I’m guessing it will be a four-hour appointment. We can knock it out in one session or break it up into two, but we already discussed that. When you’re in the shop, I’ll have my assistant personally oversee the booking for your next appointment. We won’t run into this problem again.”

Melanie sat on the client chair and folded her hands on her lap. Her skinny jeans hugged her narrow thighs, and she ran her fingers down the denim thoughtfully. The scheduling mix-up was her fault, but Luciano had been running from his past for as long as she’d known him. Melanie wasn’t sure, but she was close to confident that they’d been on the road so long because he was running from the reality of what he’d lost.

No matter where they went, what they did, or how he hid himself away on April twenty-seventh, nothing would change. There was no way to bring Cassandra back.

As she sat, Melanie looked Luciano over. Like most days, he wore a white V-neck T-shirt with an open button-down over it, rolled at the sleeves. His arms were covered in colorful tattoos, and the V-neck revealed that his chest was decorated with more of the same. No visible ink marred his neck, face, or hands. Even his wrists were left bare.

He was handsome. Melanie had worked closely with him for two years, and she hadn’t failed to notice how his toned biceps stretched his shirtsleeves, or how his firm chest filled out his shirts. He was a solid man with a straight figure, but she liked that about him. Solid meant safe. Solid meant strength. Not much more than a twig herself, Melanie liked to think they traded services; she made sure he stayed on task and made it to his appointments, and he served as her unofficial bodyguard.

Not a single creepy guy had approached her and made lewd comments since she’d found herself in Luciano’s company. No one wanted to mess with a burly, tattooed, bearded hulk of a man. Too bad the man was off limits to her. She enjoyed her job too much to make that mistake.

“Yep. I got you penciled in. Good thing you took it, because I had a few clients interested in that spot already. Now, it’s all yours.” Luciano jotted something else down in the appointment book, then closed the cover firmly and slid it away from him. He picked up his nitro-brewed coffee and sipped at it instead. “Okay. Cool. Sounds good. See you then.”

Luciano disconnected the call and placed it on the desk with a sigh. He took another long sip of coffee, swiveled his stool around so he faced Melanie, and looked her up and down as though he were expecting something.

“So,” Luciano said carefully. “Gio and Riley are set to come back in four months. I’m thinking that I can score us some work visas into Canada. What do you think about living in Montreal for a few months?”

Melanie was sick of moving. They were home in Las Vegas at last, and now that she was back at Thorn Tattoo, the reality of the situation was clearer to her than ever. First and foremost, for the sake of the parlor and for Luciano’s health, she needed to help him get over Cassandra’s death.

Looking into his eyes, Melanie made a decision. She didn’t have a working plan yet on how she was going to do it, but she knew one thing for sure. Running wasn’t going to cut it anymore. Enough was enough.