Negligee Behavior (13 page)

“It might be a good idea.” Sebastian gave a slow nod. “Or maybe we could even do some kind of
band
competition thing.”

“Exactly!” She snapped her fingers. “Like we bring in a bunch of bands, let them all perform, and the audience decides.”

“What is this? The bar band version of that television show?”

Marco finally pulled out a chair and sat down. The bar had emptied out again, and there was no point in standing around.

“It could be. People do love this stuff.” Sebastian nodded. “I say we do it. Call it something like Dante’s Band Battle.”

“I’m in. I’ll make up some fliers and we can go distribute them. How about next Wednesday?” Brandy stood up and stretched. The tiny T-shirt she wore over jeans rose a couple of inches, exposing her belly button.

Marco dragged in a quick breath and looked away. How many times last night had he kissed that tiny crater before moving lower to…

“Works for me. Marco?”

He blinked and jerked his head up. “Huh?”

“Are you cool with that?” Sebastian asked, amusement in his eyes.

“Yeah. That sounds great.” He gave a brisk nod and thrust his fingers into his hair. “Thanks, Brandy.”

Had it only been four days since she’d jumped onto his bike and into his life?

He watched her scribble notes onto a pad she usually took orders on.

It was hard to fathom the idea of not having her around. And she seemed to be enjoying herself—in no hurry to get back to her normal life. To Gordon.

He bristled in the chair at the thought of the other man. She’d gone to bed with him last night. Was she feeling guilty about leaving the fiancé? Well, probably not after finding him getting ready to nail some bucktoothed prostitute.

The door to the bar swung.

“Well screw me backwards. Is it dead in here or what?” Val walked in swinging a skull and bones purse clutched in her hands.

“It’s dead,” Sebastian agreed and leaned back in the chair so it lifted onto its hind legs.

“Well, there’s no need for all of us to be here.” Val sat on the table and looked around. “You guys should clock off and Sebastian and I can handle it.”

“You’re sure?” Brandy pushed back her chair and tucked the pad into the pocket of her short denim skirt. She glanced at Marco. “That would give us time to go print up those Dante’s Band Battle fliers now.”

“Dante’s Band Battle?” Val quirked an eyebrow. “Did I miss something?”

“I’ll explain it to her,” Sebastian said after a yawn. “You two go ahead and go.”

“Thanks, guys.” Marco slapped Sebastian on the back and winked at Val. “See you both tomorrow.”

Val’s grin widened. “Have fun, that’s an order.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Brandy’s gaze met Marco’s, warm and hopeful before she turned and walked to the back room. “Let me just grab my purse in the back and clock out.”

She wanted him to follow her. He hadn’t missed the message in her eyes.

He cleared his throat. “I need to grab something in the back, too.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Sure you do. Like her ass.”

Ignoring his friend, he followed after Brandy who’d disappeared into the office.

Pushing open the swinging doors, he met up with her in the back where she was scooping up her purse.

Brandy’s eyes flashed with pleasure when she saw him. “Hi,” she said hesitantly, her mouth curving into a smile.

“Hey.” He shut the door, closed the distance between them and then dragged her against him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, already tilting her head up to offer her mouth to him.

With a groan he covered her lips with his. She parted for him and he slipped his tongue inside, surprised at his possessiveness and need for a quick taste of her.

The kiss deepened. Only her sweet cry pulled him up from the tidal wave of desire that threatened a repeat performance from last night. And hell, it’d taken him a good half hour to get his desk back in order as it was.

He lifted his head and dragged in an unsteady breath.

“Thanks.” She nuzzled her forehead against his shoulder. “I needed that.”

“Not as much as I did.” He breathed in the scent of apples and the scent of his shampoo in her hair. “Maybe we should skip the fliers and just go straight home.”

“Oh yeah?” He could hear the smile in her voice.

“Yeah.”

“And what would we do there?” She traced a finger over the tattoo on his arm.

“Everything and anything.”

“I do love the suggestion, but we should save that for tonight. Besides,” she lifted her head and looked at him. “I want one of these.”

“One of what?” He brushed a few curls away from her cheek.

“One of these.” She traced a nail up and down his arm again.

“A tattoo?”

“Yeah.”

He frowned and for the first time, he started to wonder how far she was going to take this whole makeover thing.

She sighed. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Thinking that I’m crazy for wanting a tattoo.” She gave him a chiding look.

“You’re just so…”

“Straight? Narrow? Innocent?” She shrugged. “Well, I feel like living a little more on the edge. So sue me.”

He flinched at her last words, but fortunately she missed it as she stepped away and slipped her purse back on her shoulder.

Still the smiley faces tote bag, he realized with a small amount of surprise. The bag was something that hadn’t yet changed about her.

“We can go back to your place and make up some fliers, and then distribute them at some businesses around town.”

She wanted to get off work and do more work?

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She gave a quick nod. “And I want to drop one at a tattoo shop—and then get that tattoo. Today.”

The air whistled from between his teeth and several beats passed before he could answer her. The makeover he was beginning to understand, but a tattoo was permanent.

“Brandy—”

“Don’t talk me out of it, please.” Her words were soft, her lips pursed.

Marco bit back a groan and thrust his fingers through his hair.
Shit
. Like he could anyway? Chances were if he refused to take her she’d just take a cab to the nearest shop and do it herself.

“You’re sure about this?”

“Completely.”

So this was what the inside of a tattoo shop looked like. The flyer dropped from Brandy’s limp fingers and fluttered to the floor.

“Long time no see, man.”

Brandy stepped out of the way just as the employee inside the shop reached past to slap Marco across the back.

“No shit.” Marco returned the slap and then pumped the guy’s hand.

“So what have you been up to?”

Brandy stepped back, letting them have their guy talk, and eyed the tattoo designs on the wall. So many choices and possibilities. Of course, it probably would have been a good plan to have some kind of idea of just what she wanted to have permanently imprinted on her body.

She jumped as Marco touched her shoulder. “So anyway, Jack, I’m bringing you a virgin today.”

Heat flooded into her face and she swallowed hard, lifting her head to look at the other man.

Tattoos and piercings decorated every inch of his body that was exposed.

“Hell, you know I love me a virgin.” He grinned, his teeth shining white against his tan skin. “What’s your name, kitten?”

She licked her lips. “Brandy.”

“I’ve never met a Brandy I didn’t like.” He winked. “Nice to meet you, any friend of Marco’s is a friend of mine. So what are you thinking?”

“Thinking?”

“Where and what?”

“Oh.” She scanned the wall of art. “Umm…”

“Still deciding?”

She gave a brisk nod and checked in with Marco. He was smirking, his thumbs hooked into the belt loops on his jeans.

“Hey, Jack, we were also hoping you’d let us put up a flyer. We’re trying something new at the bar. A band competition.”

“Sweet. Go for it. I know a lot of my clients would be all over that. A lot of musicians come in here.”

Music. Brandy blinked. Jeez, why hadn’t she thought of it earlier?

“Can you do a treble clef?”

“What the hell is a treble clef?” Marco asked.

“Sure can.” Jack nodded. “Where do you want it?”

“What the hell is a treble clef?”

“It’s a symbol in music,” Brandy explained and then turned her attention back to Jack. “How about on my upper back, shoulder area?” She reached over her shoulder and patted the spot. “Here.”

“Sounds good to me.” He went behind the counter and grabbed some papers. “Fill these out and we’ll get started in a few minutes. I’m going to run into the back and get some things set up.”

Brandy took the papers from him and went to sit down to fill them out.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Marco asked, kneeling down beside her.

She nodded, her heart pounding with nervous excitement. “Yes. I am.”

“Why?” He shook his head, his brows drawn together. “Look you already did the makeover, which was drastic enough. But a tattoo is permanent—you can’t change your mind about it. I just don’t want this to be about you having a rebellious streak.”

“It won’t be. Whether you realize it or not, you and Val both have done me a favor.” She bit her lip and spun the pen between her fingers. “You’ve helped me realize I’ve been smothering a part of me that I didn’t want to admit existed.”

“I understand.” Something flickered in his eyes that made her think there were still things she didn’t know about this man. Things she hoped he’d share some day. He gave a slow nod. “You sure you won’t regret this?”

She reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I promise you this is something I won’t regret.”

As she spoke the words she realized the double meaning to herself. No. She would never regret getting a tattoo, or taking Marco on as a lover.

He seemed to almost read her thoughts, as he reached out and squeezed her hand. “Okay. Then I’m behind you one-hundred-percent.”

His words sent a calm through her, even while his gentle touch sent shivers through her.

“So you ready, kitten?”

Both she and Marco swung their heads to look at Jack as he came back out front.

Drawing in a deep breath, she gave a small nod. “Ready.”

“I’ll come in with you.”

Relief seeped through her as they walked back to the tattoo chair. As much as she wanted this tattoo, she didn’t really relish the idea of doing it alone.

“All right, I’m gonna need you to take your shirt off,” Jack instructed.

Brandy gulped and wrung her hands together. “And my bra, too?”

Jack’s laugh filled the tiny room.

“Only if you want to, kitten. Otherwise you can just lower the straps.”

Her cheeks burned as embarrassment swept through her. Before she could look like any more of a freak, she gripped the bottom of her shirt and tugged it over her head.

Marco’s blood rushed through his veins at the sight of the bra she wore today, a purple satiny-looking thing. He snuffed out the irritation that came with the knowledge that Jack was also getting an eyeful.

“So how big are you thinking you want the tattoo to be?” Jack asked, all business.

“Umm. Not too big. No more than a couple of inches.”

“Okay. And how well do you tolerate pain? Personally,” he rushed on. “I don’t think a tattoo is painful, but some people straight up lose it.”

She didn’t answer right away. But Marco noticed her grip on the chair tightening so that her knuckles had gone white. But she straightened her spine and said, “I do all right.”

“That’s a good girl.” Jack cleaned the area and then put down the small transfer design that had the treble clef on it. Next he smeared some petroleum jelly-like substance over her skin, and then turned on the needle. A soft buzzing filled the room.

Marco held his ground, telling himself not to step forward and grab her hand for support. She probably resented the fact that he’d followed her in here as it was.

Jack dipped the tip in ink and then brought it just above her shoulder. “Here we go. I’m just going to do a small line first, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered.

Marco watched her closely. The minute the needle made contact with her skin she flinched, but she set her jaw.

Jack moved the needle downward to draw the tattoo and her jaw became more rigid, even as her face drained of color.

Swearing under his breath, he stepped forward and took her hand. Her fingers immediately wrapped around his in a death grip.

“You doing okay?” he asked quietly.

She gave the tiniest of nods and after a few minutes asked, “Are we almost done?”

Marco shook his head and grimaced. “We just got started. Just try to relax, princess. The pain will fade.”

The fingers around his hand tightened. “Okay. I can handle this.”

And she did, he realized twenty minutes later when Jack was finishing up and taping gauze over the new tattoo.

Her cheeks were flushed from the combination of adrenaline and pain; there was a hint of pride in her eyes. A pride he knew was mirrored in his own gaze.

He leaned down and brushed his lips across her ear. “You did great, princess.”

Her responding laugh sounded a bit manic. “Are you kidding me? I kept hoping I’d pass out because it hurt so darn bad.” She winced. “Unfortunately it never happened.”

Marco gave a soft laugh and helped her to her feet. She pulled her shirt back on and cleared her throat. “Could I use the bathroom?”

“You’ll find it out front,” Jack answered.

“Thanks, I’ll be back in a minute,” she murmured, but she didn’t move right away as her gaze slipped to Marco’s again.

Damn, this chick was amazing. Incredible. So sexy. A constant surprise. His blood pounded hard through his veins and he had the same kind of rush as if he’d been the one getting ink. Brandy did this to him.

Maybe she felt it too, because she stared intently at his mouth for a moment, before darting to the front of the shop.

Marco watched her go and then nodded over at Jack.

“Thanks for doing that, man.”

Jack shook his head. “Not a problem. She handled it pretty well.”

“I thought so.” He gave another quiet laugh.

“So…what’s going on? You getting serious about the chick?”

Marco scowled as he thought about the question. And a helluva question it was too.

“We just hooked up a few days ago,” he replied ambiguously, not ready to admit he was in way over his head.

“Yeah, I hear ya.” Jack went back to cleaning up the room, but kept up the conversation. “That’s how Trish and I started. Met at a bar, had a complete fuckfest for a couple days, next thing I knew we were getting married while parachuting.”

“I remember that. I’m still a little pissed you didn’t invite me to the wedding.”

Jack guffawed and slapped him on the back. “Yeah. Like you’d jump your ass out of a plane.”

“No. I wouldn’t. I’m not
that
crazy.”

“Not crazy, man, it’s called living life.” Jack’s attention slid past him, and Marco turned to see Brandy in the door.

“So how much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching behind her to brush her fingers over the makeshift bandage.

“I got it.”

She turned to Marco, her eyes widening. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

“I got it,” he insisted and caught her chin between his fingers. He lowered his head to drop a soft kiss across her lips.

Her eyelids, which had fluttered shut the minute his mouth touched her, blinked back open. The blue of her eyes seemed extra bright, her pleasure and desire for him making her gaze sharper.

Jack cleared his throat. “You can come up front and pay when you’re ready, Marco. I’ll be up there.”

“Thank you,” she finally said quietly.

“You’re welcome.”

“We still have an entire stock of fliers to distribute.”

“Ah, yes we do.” He touched her cheek. “Wanna grab some lunch first?”

“Mmm. Yeah.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m kind of craving one of those burgers from Dante’s actually.”

He laughed and led her up front. “Nice. Way to keep the profit in our pocket.”

The ringing of the phone woke him. Marco slid his arm out from under Brandy and rolled over to answer it.

He blinked. The clock read seven-thirty in the morning. “This better be good,” he muttered.

“Hey, it’s Val.”

“Val?” He paused to yawn. “You don’t have food poisoning again, do you?”

“Er, no. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

“On?”

“On Brandy’s birthday.”

“Yeah? When is it?”

“Today.”

He sat upright and looked down at Brandy who was sprawled out over more than half the bed and snoring loud enough to wake the neighbors.

“Shit, really? How do you know?”

“Yesterday we were discussing the stigma of being thirty and not being married. She mentioned the big day was today for her.”

“Damn.” Brandy had mentioned something about that, the night they’d first met. But hell, remembering birthdays had never been his forte.

“Don’t sweat it. Sebastian and I ordered lots of food and a cake and we’ll give her balloons and shit.”

“And shit, huh?” He gave a soft laugh. “Thanks, Val. I owe you.”

“Hell yeah, you do. Anyway. She’s a little vulnerable about the thirty thing, so make her breakfast in bed or something.”

“I can probably do that.” He yawned. “Okay, see you in a bit.”

He clicked his phone shut and swung his legs out of bed.

Brandy stirred next to him, but didn’t wake. She thrust one leg out from under the sheets as she snuggled her cheek deeper into the pillow.

Moving as quietly as possible, he pulled on his jeans and walked into the kitchen. He dragged his hands over the stubble on his face and opened the fridge.

The view that met him showed his food supply was in serious decline. Shit.

He could always cook her another bratwurst. She’d seemed pretty thrilled by it the first time. But it didn’t really seem like a very good birthday breakfast. Not to mention that he only had coffee—no tea.

Hell. Maybe he ought to just run down to the small grocer on the corner. He could pick up something and maybe even get a card. Chances were he couldn’t get much, but at least he could get
something
. Dust off his creative gene a bit.

The desire to please her, to surprise her, came on sudden and strong. To see the happiness in her eyes and have the reward of her curled up in his arms afterward. She deserved this. This and so much more.

He grabbed his keys off the banister and headed out the door.

Brandy woke alone in Marco’s bed. She pushed the sheet off and sat up. Looking around, she let out a slow yawn.

Her mind was still foggy, but something pricked in the back of her head. Something she should be remembering. The fog cleared and she leaned back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling.

Today was her birthday. The big 3-0. She waited for the panic and disappointment to sweep through her. The near desperation she’d always felt when she thought about hitting that landmark age and not being married.

She waited for the familiar emotions to come, but they didn’t. In their place was a strange sense of relief. An unusual calm. Thirty. It was just a number.
So what
?

When she thought about her options—being married to Gordon, or having what she had right now with Marco, it was all too clear which side of the coin she preferred.

She climbed out of bed, more resolute with every passing second. Everyone said that thirty was the new twenty, so why should she act like she was a decrepit old spinster?

“From now on everything changes,” she muttered. “How I view myself, and my life. If I want to have a little fun, then, darn it, I will.”

“Are you talking to yourself?”

Marco came down the hall, a tray in his hand and an amused grin on his face.

“Yes, and I do it quite often.” She stretched her arms above her head and eyed the tray curiously. “What have you got there?”

“Breakfast.” He closed the distance between them and dropped a kiss on her mouth. “But not just any breakfast, your birthday breakfast.”

Light headed from his kiss, it took a second for his words to penetrate. She stepped back in surprise.

“You knew it was my birthday?”

He opened his mouth and then shut it again, giving her a rueful smile. “I remembered you said it was coming up, but I admit, Val had to remind me that it was today.”