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Thorn (Thorn Tattoo Studio Book 2) by Leslie North (14)

Luciano

Luciano was walking out the door as his phone rang.

“I’m on my way down. I’ll be with you in a second.”

“Great,” Melanie chirped back. It sounded like she was in a good mood. “I’ll be waiting in the parking garage.”

Disconnecting the call, Luciano slipped his phone back into his pocket and made his way to the elevator, taking it directly to the underground parking garage. Melanie’s car idled and he pulled open the passenger side door and slipped down into the seat.

“Hey,” he said as he settled. He closed the door and strapped himself in.

This morning her makeup was precise and tasteful, although her lips were a pretty pastel pink that was far from natural. The blouse she wore was translucent and pale white, and beneath it, Luciano saw the hint of her bra. The bold black color through the white drew his eye.

Melanie was gorgeous.

“Hi,” Melanie said. “You sleep well?”

“I’ve slept better.” Luciano shrugged. “Knowing I’m about to drop fifteen grand on something I’m not really interested in buying will not be the highlight of my day.”

Melanie snorted and shook her head. “Once you get there, you’ll be fine. I’m keeping everything as cheap as I can, but I promise, you’re going to make that fifteen grand back on the purchase price of your house.”

“And if I don’t? Then what?”

“Are you doubting me?” Melanie side-eyed him as she reversed from the parking space.

“No.” Her gaze sharpened, and she raised a brow in disbelief. “Okay, maybe I am. I just don’t think furniture is going to make a big difference in the end. People are buying the house for the house. The furniture and decor is changeable.”

“You say that,” she drove slowly from the garage, “but did you ever watch any of those home shows you mentioned yesterday where an agent takes a couple around and shows them a few properties they could buy? Do you hear the kinds of things they inevitably get hung up on? It’s never about structure. It’s always about the wall color, or the carpet, or any of the little things they could change without too much issue. Changing the furniture and making smart stylistic choices is going to increase the value of your home. I swear it.”

Luciano didn’t know if she was right or not, but he didn’t argue. When it came down to it, Melanie had already convinced him to spend the money. Either he could resist, or he could let it happen.

It was a smarter choice to let it happen. Besides, a part of him enjoyed watching her go toe-to-toe with him. She was cute when she was in a feisty mood.

Melanie merged with traffic and made her way down the street. The sun was bright, but Luciano still felt tired. He yawned and stretched, settling back in the seat. On weekends, he usually slept well into the afternoon. His own preference was to be a night owl, and working at the shop only reinforced those habits. Getting up before noon was a big deal, but he knew Melanie liked to get business done early.

He respected that.

And if she was going to get dressed up to go shopping, looking like a living dream, he minded even less. He turned his head to look at her. She’d paired her billowing top with tight jeans, and she looked fantastic. Maybe after they were finished shopping, she’d want to stick around for a while. Ever since their night at the bar, he’d been thinking about her with increased frequency.

Cassandra would always have his heart, and if he was being honest with himself, Luciano wasn’t sure he’d ever fully heal from her loss, but he was opening himself to the idea that there was more to life than mourning her. As painful as Sarah’s visit had been, it had been eye-opening. The world kept spinning. There was still a reason to live. There were still people worth meeting, maybe even worth loving….

Melanie looked over her shoulder at him as she stopped at a red light. “You’re staring.”

“Am not.” Luciano lifted his chin. “I was thinking.”

“Well, you seemed to be thinking very hard in my direction,” Melanie observed. “If you’re going to eat me up with your eyes, you could at least take me out for a date first.”

Luciano’s mouth went dry. She echoed the sarcasm he so often spoke with, but he couldn’t help but feel as if she meant what she said. Did she want to date?

All of it felt

Right.

He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his head to look out the window. “I didn’t realize looking cost anything.”

“When you’re looking like that it does.” She laughed. “No. I’m kidding. Luc, really. I’m just not used to seeing you space out like that. Is everything okay?”

“Just tired and thinking.” He ran his hands down his jeans, distracting himself with the tactile sensations. It wasn’t worth it to speak his mind, not when they’d yet to do what they needed to with their day. It would make the rest of their trip awkward if he brought it up now. “I’ll wake up once we get moving. I only just finished my first coffee when you called.”

“I guess it is a little early for you on your day off.” They advanced with traffic. Melanie navigated with ease. He assumed that traveling the country had given her an innate sense of direction. “That’s okay. We’ll get you moving. Shopping’s exciting. You’ll perk up.”

Shopping was one of Luciano’s least favorite activities, but with Melanie there? He wasn’t so sure it would be routine.

It was time to start living. The statement on his knuckles was a permanent reminder. He would overcome.

Melanie had challenged the wrong guy. He was going to take it as far as it would go and prove to her that he could change for the better.

If that meant going furniture shopping, so be it.

* * *

In the parking lot of the home store, Melanie rooted around in her file folder and pulled out the stack of papers she’d tried to present him with in his living room. Luciano hadn’t looked them over, and he had no idea what kind of aesthetic she was going for.

“Can I see those?” he asked as she tucked them under her arm.

“When we get inside,” she said. She locked her car, and then led him toward the front doors of the store. “I’m not interested in getting into a conversation with you out here; let’s go inside where it’s more comfortable.”

Luciano couldn’t argue with that. He followed her into the building and stood off to the side of the doors near the carts. Melanie stood beside him, pressing her back against the wall. There was plenty of room for other customers to come and go.

“So this is what I’ve picked out,” Melanie said. She handed the stack of papers to him, and Luciano sorted through them slowly. Furniture with stunning wood grain and sleek designs occupied page after page of the package. Sometimes there were arrows pointing to the larger floor plan, showing where things would go. Other times, there were suggestions or reminders scrawled at the top of the page.

“Did you find the floor plan online somewhere?” Luciano asked. The paper was hand drawn, but to the best of his memory, it was accurate.

“No. I just sketched it. I’m pretty good at spatial sense.” Melanie shrugged. “We moved around so much that it was important to know what we could and couldn’t fit in the van. I guess even after I left home, my talents never really went away.”

“You keep talking about your childhood,” Luciano said. “What happened to give you all these random skills? Riding motorcycles, acute spatial sense, your obsession with planning….”

Melanie winked. “If I told you, we wouldn’t get any shopping in.”

“Why not? Is it that juicy?”

“No, it’s that boring. I’d find you asleep in the bedroom section.”

“Now that’s not a bad idea. Want to join me? We could cause a scandal in aisle nine.” Luciano waggled his eyebrows at her making her laugh. “One of these days I’ll find out,” he told her.

She shrugged still smiling. “It isn’t even remotely interesting.”

“More interesting than shopping,” Luciano grumbled, as she grabbed a cart and made her way into the store.

Looking back at him, she winked. “C’mon, slowpoke. Let’s get going.”

Luciano scrambled to catch up, falling into place beside her. “Why do you need a cart? We’re ordering furniture, aren’t we? We’ll be taking down product numbers on a sheet of paper.”

“We’re not only here for furniture.” Melanie arched a brow. “Decorating is about so much more than that. We’re going to get a few potted plants, some new paintings, curtains, sheets, blankets…”

“Wait.” They didn’t stop walking, but he knew Melanie was listening. “I knew you were getting new furniture, but I didn’t think you were gutting the place.”

“We can sell the old furniture online, if you want,” she replied. “We could recoup some of your expenses that way. Or if you’re feeling generous, I could take some of it off your hands. I’m looking for a new place to live, and I’ll need furniture. It’d be convenient if I didn’t have to invest in so much stuff up front.”

Was she really going to get rid of the sparkling blackout curtains Cassandra had been so fond of? Luciano knew the aesthetic was a little juvenile, but it wasn’t bad. He frowned, and as they turned onto the display floor, he drew her off to the side and stopped the cart. “I don’t want to get rid of the little stuff. The furniture I’m fine with getting rid of, but the rest of it?”

“Luc,” Melanie said softly. “I’m trying to help you. I know that it’s not really intuitive, but I promise, if you listen to me, it’s going to work out for the best.”

Luciano had liked the furniture she picked out. While he thought what Cassandra had done with the house was cute, he knew it didn’t appeal to standard taste. Cassandra did what felt right to her, and he’d loved that about her.

Melanie was trying to fix that for his benefit, but it stung like a scab peeled back prematurely. Luciano wasn’t sure if it would just sting, or if he’d start to bleed again if she kept going.

“The paintings stay.” He crossed his arms staring her down.

“The paintings go.” Melanie didn’t budge. “If you want to keep them and put them in your apartment, that’s fine, but we’re getting new artwork for the house. The things you have right now are outdated and… strange.” She waved her hand as she talked as though it would emphasize her explanation.

There was always back and forth between them. Luciano never fought like that with anyone else. Melanie knew how to press all of his buttons enough to frustrate him without sending him into a blind rage. What was worse, she understood how to win. He couldn’t say no to her.

“They’re only strange to you.” Was he really arguing over paintings?

“They’re strange to the people thirty-five years of age and older who are going to be coming to our showings,” Melanie countered. Why did she always have to have a counter-argument for everything? She drove him up the wall, but he couldn’t dispute the things she said.

“Alright. Fine. Then what kind of artwork are we going to be looking for?” Luciano asked. “What’s ‘not weird?’”

“Let me show you.” Melanie took his hand. Sparks shot down his arm, and he almost pulled away from her touch. It felt too good to touch her skin, to feel her again. In a split second, he remembered their night together in the house. How he’d touched the soft skin of her stomach, how he’d traced upward toward her chest, how much he’d wanted her in that moment….

Luciano sucked in a breath and steeled himself for the rest of the visit.

If this was how it was going to start, he knew it was only going to get harder from there.