Permanent (Indelibly Marked) (Volume 1) (22 page)

“I called in every favor on this planet.” He laughed. “I’ll be tattooing for free for a while.”

“Well Lindsay said it’s good to barter if you can.”

“I should be good to go then. Everyone I know has a hand in trying to make this the perfect date. I just have to show her the kind of guy I can be.” He didn’t really mean to say that out loud, but his sister hugged him tighter.

“Just be you and be honest and she will love it.”

He exhaled, his sister didn’t know about the IRS letter and neither would Lindsay. “Let’s do this.”

“Do you have a key?”

“Key?” He clenched his fist. “I really need to work on that.”  Out of nowhere, the craving to bite down on a pencil overtook him. He reached in his pocket and handed Emily his phone. “Call Carson.”

She dialed. “Why?”

He pushed her back and ran right toward the door, kicking it down exactly as he had the night he met her. Again, the door broke from the hinge, only this time he also managed to destroy the doorjamb too. “Tell him Lindsay’s door is broken.”

The scent of Lindsay hit his nostrils and he closed his eyes. It was a little bit of floral mixed with only what he would call clean and soft. God, he missed her. He went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

“I’ll go find her outfit.” Emily disappeared into her bedroom.

“Thanks.” He opened a cabinet and stared inside. Everything was perfectly neat. When he unpacked her, all her possessions were still in the original store boxes. Lost in his thoughts he opened another cabinet to more of the same and then turned and took in the whole place. Her living room looked like a model home, not a run-down Hollywood apartment.

He studied a blown glass vase and next to it a matching paperweight. On the wall above her couch was a painting that picked up the colors of her accessories. It was too planned. Absolutely nothing felt personal. He never noticed before because Lindsay was always here and the background faded.

“Shane.” Emily called. He turned to see her holding Lindsay’s dress.

“Is this going to make her even madder at you?”

 “I don’t know if that’s possible.” The vibe in the apartment seemed off, and he opened a drawer on the side table. It was empty. No junk, nothing. He went to her desk, except for his financial paperwork, it was more of the same. Piles of vanilla ice cream. No nuts, no hot fudge, no sprinkles, no Lindsay.

“What are you doing?” Emily put the dress over a chair grabbed his arm. “You can’t go through her things!”

“These aren’t her things.” He shook his sister off his arm and he marched into the bedroom. Once again nothing out of place, every pillow, the comforter, the picture above the bed and the lamps on the nightstands, all perfect, planned and pristine.

“Hey.” His sister ran into the room.

“Clean slate.” He ignored her and went to the bathroom and found the same.

“What are you talking about?” She yelled. “We shouldn’t be snooping.”

He stuck his head in her closet. Some clothes still had tags dangling from them. Then he remembered something and slid the clothes aside.

“Shane,” Emily growled.

“The day we unpacked for her, she took that box and told Ivan twice that she didn’t want to unpack it.” He stared down the plain cardboard box. On top of it were her horse awards and next to it another matching box.

“Explain.” She grabbed his sleeve.

“Look around.” He got down on his knees and reached for the box needing to know what secrets it held. “There’s nothing of her in her apartment, it has to be in here.”

“No! Please don’t.” Emily pulled him. “Look Shane.”

Emily pointed to the far side of Lindsay’s bed. “She said she needed to hang a few pictures. Let’s see what they are.”

“It’s probably just more hotel art.”

Emily crawled over and picked up the first frame and with her lips pressed together turned the picture toward him.

“That’s mine.” He sat down on the beige carpet and took in the picture of a water lily he gave her. It was professionally framed. “I hope she went to Stuart to have that done.”

Emily set the picture aside and lifted the next one.

“Ivan’s.” He assessed the detailed mountain landscape.

“Carson’s.” Emily said as she showed him another.

Lindsay had chosen frames that complimented one another.

Emily smiled at the next one. “We look good here.”

He reached for the photo of Lindsay and Emily at the shop and nodded. The only personal things in Lindsay’s entire place were attached to them.

“Here’s the last one.” It was a smaller picture, one with an easel back, not meant for a wall hanging, but to be put on a table. Emily handed it to him.

A tightness squeezed uncomfortably on his chest. It was a photo of the two of them, and he chewed the inside of his mouth while he absorbed the image. He remembered Ivan snapping the shot at the shop. When Lindsay blushed, he found an excuse to take her into his arms and bent her back. Somehow Ivan managed to snap the photo right as they were looking at each other. He could see the connection between them, and he wanted it back.

“Please let her forgive me.” He wiped off a light glaze of dust, stopping when his thumb covered up his hair and got a sudden flash of a different couple. This one wasn’t of an accountant with a crazy tattoo artist, but of two people who belonged together. “The kind of man I can be.”

“What?” Emily returned.

He moved his hand and set the photo aside. “Nothing.”

“We need to get moving, you still have to get to LAX.”

“LAX,” he repeated. “Let’s go.” He glanced at the box one more time before they left.

Chapter Nineteen

“We have arrived in Ontario.” The pilot’s voice announced. Everyone scrambled for their luggage while Lindsay sat, frozen to her seat. Once she stepped off that plane she needed to face some huge things. First, her job. It was a code red mess, and she swallowed hard when she watched Mr. Sebastian and Rick prepare to leave the plane. Second, her other job, or her business. She had a ton of work to do for her makeshift accounting firm.

That brought her to the third and most important item on her list. Shane. What could have happened in the last three days? Did he pine away for her or decide he was better off without her? Could she forgive him? Did she even have the right to be mad after putting him through a week of waiting for her to decide? Was the bartender right?

“You all right?” Rick came over.

“I feel a little sick.” With no real plan and her mental ledger pages full, she was a bit lost. She stood in the aisle with everyone else.

“One too many drinks with the tattooed bartender.” Rick nudged her. “You like the bad boys don’t you?”

“Take tomorrow off.” Mr. Sebastian patted the top of her head. “Both of you, you earned it.” He stretched. “The company car will be waiting for us.”

As she neared the escalator she caught sight of a few reunions. One woman and her mother embraced, and a twang of homesickness hit her. Another man ran to a woman, but when he caught her and leaned her back for a kiss, Lindsay had to avert her eyes. Her homesickness turned into jealousy.

Rick tapped her shoulder, and as she turned, something caught her attention.

An arc of blue-black.

Her body heated at the mere idea that she’d spotted it.

Tears blurred her vision and her chest and stomach clenched in unison. She forced herself to face Rick, deciding to blame her vision on altitude changes. “What?”

“Are you going to throw up?”

“I don’t know.” She stared at him while a nagging feeling to double check bubbled up in her stomach.

“Lindsay’s going to be sick.” Rick took her arm.

Mr. Sebastian came forward.

She put her hand over her mouth, certain she was losing her mind. She couldn’t have seen him. How would Shane have gotten there? Her flight was rerouted so many times, she was sure no one knew she was there. Besides, he wouldn’t have trekked all the way to Ontario, not after she’d point blank told him to leave her alone.

“Do you need to sit down?” Mr. Sebastian took her other arm.

She needed to confirm that the arc of blue-black was what she wanted it to be. Admitting she wanted it to be Shane confirmed that she needed to talk to him. In fact, she couldn’t wait.

“Can I use your phone?” She asked, afraid to look back.

“Give her your phone and go get her a bottle of water. We have at least a two hour drive back at this time of day.” Mr. Sebastian commanded.

Rick reached into his pocket and got his phone. “If you’re planning to call your friend, he’s right there.”

Shane. He always came for her. Was he really there, or was she dreaming? The room spun as she turned, and she pressed her lips together in an effort not to burst out crying.

Shane Elliott had found her.

Her heart beat hard and fast, vibrating her entire body.

He stood and casually leaned against the wall at the bottom of the escalator. The second her gaze caught his, he stood straight and revealed a huge bouquet of red roses from behind his back.

Her attempt to hold back the tears failed.

“Who’s that?” Mr. Sebastian asked.

“I have to go.” She extracted herself from his hold.

“Is that our driver?”

“No.” She headed for the escalator.

Shane wasn’t wearing tattered jeans and a t-shirt. This time was completely different. She assessed him from the shoes up. Gone were his high-tops and in their place sleek pair of dress shoes, his worn blue jeans were replaced by a pair of well-fitting black jeans, and his T-shirt was now a long-sleeved black and blue striped button down layered with a matching black shirt underneath. He was gorgeous and she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

At last when she made it to the bottom, he motioned for her to move to one side.

The chaos of the airport faded into the background, the people disappeared, and she forgot to breathe. She longed to touch him to make sure he was real, but before she did anything she needed to see what he planned to do.

His eyes met hers and he held the flowers out to her. “Sometimes clichés are good.”

“What do you mean?” Her mind reeled from it all. She hardly recognized her own voice.

“They express everything you want to say.” He swallowed. “If you’ll do me the honor, I would like to take you out tonight on the date you deserved Saturday.”

Even if she wanted it, she couldn’t just let him come and make it better. They both had too many doubts.

“Please, Lindsay.”

Her heart screamed yes. It wanted to forget everything and let him take her out, but her mind crept in. She ground her teeth trying to prevent the next words from leaving her mouth, but she couldn’t. “What happened Saturday?”

“I screwed up one of the best things that ever happened to me.” His answer was fast, his words direct.

“Why didn’t you come?” She focused just beyond his shoulder and waited. She heard him inhale and could tell he was struggling, but she needed to know.

“I got in a fight with Dillon. He said some things that made me question if I could be the man for you.” He stepped closer.

The heat in her cheeks burned. “I don’t understand.”

He stepped even closer. The cellophane wrapping on the flowers crinkled between them. “I can’t just take you out and have it mean nothing later.” He leaned over until he looked into her eyes. “That’s not us.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Never meant anything more.” He caught her tear with his fingertip. “I want to be with you, Lindsay.”

Like a dream, Shane swept in like he always did and set things right, but somehow he managed to make the dream better.

“I want us to go out. Right now, just you and me, like it should have been.”

“I’m not even dressed.” She needed the chance to process, get out her ledger and analyze the situation.

He placed the flowers in her hand, and brushed his fingers against hers. “I thought you might want to change, so I brought your dress and everything.” He pointed to the far end of the baggage claim area. A man in a burgundy suit and hat was standing by the door saluted them.

“You know someone in Ontario?”

“If you give a man a good tattoo, he’s your friend for life.” He touched her cheek. “Please say yes.”

For more times than she cared to count, she slammed her mental ledger closed. Who was she kidding? She was going to go. “Let me change.” 

*~*~*

“Shane.” Lindsay gasped. “What is this?”

For the first time since that ill-fated night, Shane felt like himself and he smiled. His goal was to show Lindsay the type of man he could be, and with the flowers and the limo, he knew he was on the right path. However, when he took her into the exclusive clubhouse at a beautiful racetrack near Los Angeles, he knew he’d won the race. Her face lit up, and she clutched his hand in both of hers.

“I thought you might like this.” His original plan of sushi and a club wasn’t special enough. He wanted to do something purely Lindsay, and luckily he had friends in all the right places.

“I love it.”

He put his arm around her as they were led to their table overlooking the finish line.

She sat by the window and he sat next to her, ordered two beers and handed her the racing programs. “Do you know how to do this?” He didn’t really care if they bet or not, but he wanted to hear her voice. She was quiet the whole ride, and he’d been content just holding her hand.

“You know. This is really a science.” She opened the paper.

“I take it you’re fluent in horseracing?” He glanced over at the gibberish on the page, impressed at how she read it with ease.

“I know a bit.” As she assessed the races, she ran her finger down the list. “This is a young horse, he’s doing well, but his jockey isn’t my favorite and he may not be used to racing here.”

“Okay.” He tossed some bills on the table. “How do we do this?”

“You can bet to win, place, or show.” She retrieved a pen from her purse and made some notes on the paper. “Or we can try an exacta, trifecta or superfecta.”

“Superfecta.” He leaned over, putting his face closer to hers. “So I suppose choosing a horse because the name is cool is not going to work.”