Authors: Ranae Rose
Serious Ink
Serious Ink
Inked in the Steel City Book 5
Ranae Rose
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This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are products of the author’s imagination and are in no way real. Any resemblance to real events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Serious Ink
Copyright © 2014 Ranae Rose
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Serious Ink
(Inked in the Steel City, #5)
Hard times mean hard choices, but falling for Noah Wilder is easy. Beneath his suit and tie, he’s seriously inked and seriously irresistible. When he walks into the Hot Ink Tattoo Studio, the attraction between him and studio receptionist Zoe is mutual – and fierce. And after the opportunity to ditch her demeaning second job to work for him instead arises, suddenly he’s her boss … and much more. With lines blurred in every way imaginable, can she balance passion and professionalism with doing what’s best for her struggling family?
Attraction is a powerful thing. So is former fighter Noah’s drive to make his growing mixed martial arts promotion company succeed, and if business happens to coincide with pleasure, so much the better. Tattooed beauty Zoe Ramsey is all his when she’s not working at Hot Ink – for twenty hours a week, anyway. When circumstances bring them close faster than they ever imagined, can he make her see that he’s just as serious about her as he is about the business he’s poured his heart and soul into?
CONTENTS
“Again?” Mina’s dark eyes widened as she leaned on the body jewelry counter, her jacket buttoned and her purse slung over one shoulder.
Zoe nodded. “Yeah.”
“That’s the second time this year. Aren’t there rules on how often rent can be raised?”
“I don’t think so, since our original one-year lease has expired. Anyway, I’m sure that if we don’t pay, we’ll be evicted at the speed of light. The landlord is a real ass, and he
still
hasn’t fixed the stove.”
“Sounds like it. Maybe you guys should look for a new place to live.”
“We may have to.” Zoe buried an eyetooth in her inner lip. “I’d kind of hate to leave this place behind, though – the neighbors aren’t bad, and the location is pretty convenient. I don’t want to move into a neighborhood that’s a total dump like our last one – I’m afraid of what Paul will do in a place like that.” The memory of her older brother punching one of their neighbors in the face after the neighbor made a crude remark to Zoe hadn’t faded, though that had been a couple years ago.
Mina frowned. “Sorry. I’ll be right back, then I’ll take over.” She retreated to the back of the shop, where the restroom was, leaving Zoe to finish out the last five minutes of her shift. It was 5:25 in the afternoon – Zoe had worked reception for the first half of the day. Mina would take over at 5:30 and work until Hot Ink closed around eleven.
Normally, Zoe would be looking forward to heading home for the evening. Today was different. The entire past week had been different, in fact. Shaking off a wave of unease, she told herself not to be stupid. Circumstances were what they were – she’d do what she had to do.
A cold breeze gusted into the shop, combing through Zoe’s chin-length black hair and making her skin pebble. There was no bell over the door, but the blast of March wind was more than enough to notify her that someone had just walked in.
“Hello,” she said, looking up from where she pressed her hot pink nails against the display glass. “Welcome to Hot Ink. I’m Zoe. Do you have an appointment?”
Her heart slammed against her ribs as she laid eyes on the new arrival.
“5:45, with Jed.” A last gust of air blew in, ruffling the hem of the man’s suit jacket as the door fell shut.
It wasn’t every day that someone walked into the Hot Ink Tattoo Studio in a suit. It also wasn’t every day that Zoe wished her shift would last longer just so she could have an excuse to hang around and gape at a client. “You must be Noah,” she said, casting a hasty glance at the schedule she had up on the laptop screen. She hadn’t expected him to arrive before the end of her shift. “Noah Wilder?”
“That’s me.” He stopped in front of the counter, placing one hand on the glass. One large hand, bone and sinew contrasting with the dark fabric of his sleeve. The suit jacket – hell, the entire suit – looked expensive, but she was no expert, so who knew? Maybe he was just so hot that he made it look good. With his sculpted cheekbones and tall, lean build, he looked like a menswear model fresh off the set of a photo shoot.
Or maybe one of those too-gorgeous-to-be-true millionaires that starred in those racy novels that were so popular lately. She’d read one that a client had left behind on the couch in the waiting area, and the thought sent instant heat into her cheeks. Hopefully the cold air that had just swirled into the shop would tame her blush.
“Jed should be ready for you soon,” she said, looking up and meeting his eyes for the first time – they were an icy green, like frosted jade. His short-cropped chestnut hair held the barest hint of red, enough to make his eyes stand out even more. “You’re a little early.”
His lips – expressive and soft-looking, despite his serious expression – stretched in the slightest of smiles. “I gave myself some extra time to get here – was afraid I’d get lost. I don’t think I’ve ever driven in a city with so many bridges. Cross the wrong one, and…” He shrugged. “Well, you’re not where you meant to be, that’s for sure.”
“You’re new to Pittsburgh?”
“Just moved here a couple weeks ago. Still getting my bearings.”
“Oh?” Some instinct – the same instinct that had Zoe hoping Mina would linger in the bathroom to style her hair or re-do her make-up … anything to give Zoe more time at the reception desk – urged her to keep talking. “Where did you relocate from?”
“Buffalo.”
“New York.” Only a few hours away. And okay, if he’d really been a gorgeous millionaire, he probably would’ve been from the other side of the state, but who cared? He still looked amazing. And ordinary guys were more appealing anyway – especially when they had such extraordinary looks. Unable to repress a dopey grin, she leaned forward. “What brought you here?”
“Work.”
“Ah. Well…” Embarrassment stole over her as she stood there, trying to think of a way to keep the conversation going. “Good luck getting familiar with all those bridges.”
Lame. So lame. Dying a little inside, she glanced at the laptop screen. “I see you’ll be spending a couple hours with Jed. Is this your first tattoo?” He didn’t exactly look like the usual type to frequent Hot Ink.
He smiled in earnest now, light glinting in his eyes. “No. Not my first.”
A spark of curiosity lit inside her, prompting her to imagine what could possibly be inked on his long, lean body. It was hard to tell when he was completely covered from neck to wrist, but she’d bet he worked out. People didn’t just wake up and roll out of bed looking that good for no reason. “It’s your first time here at Hot Ink, at least. I think you’ll be really happy with Jed’s work. He’s an amazing artist.”
Noah nodded. “I got in touch with him a few weeks before my move. His portfolio is impressive. I came in for a face-to-face consult last week. I’m sure you’re right.”
After a few moments of silence, Zoe resigned herself to the inevitable. “You’re more than welcome to wait on the couch.” She tipped her head toward the black leather sofa a couple yards away. “I’ll let Jed know you’re here.”
Not only did she not have anything interesting to say, but she’d be leaving soon anyway. In fact, Mina was already making her way down the aisle, heading for the counter.
Noah made no move toward the couch. Instead, he remained in front of the counter, looking more coolly casual in his suit than any man had a right to. “Will you still be here in a couple hours?”
“Me?” Zoe was tempted to glance over her shoulder to see if there was anyone else he could be speaking to. She resisted the urge. Barely.
He nodded, eyes locking with hers.
She shook her head as her heart picked up pace. “No. I’m just about to leave, actually.”
Faint wrinkles creased his brow as he frowned. “That’s too bad. I was hoping you’d agree to grab dinner with me after my appointment, if you were free. I haven’t done anything but work and move boxes these past couple weeks, and it’d be nice to have some company.”
Her heart beat so hard and fast it hurt. Damn it. Of all the days that a gorgeous suit model candidate could’ve asked her out… “I have a second job I have to head to. My shift there doesn’t end until nine.” In that moment, she wanted to quit her new second job more desperately than she had at any moment during the past week. And that was saying something.
But quitting wasn’t an option. Not even close.
He didn’t miss a beat. “I’m up for a late dinner if you are. I could pick you up at nine.” Another slight, almost teasing smile. “It’s Friday night, after all.”
Mina was closing in on the reception counter.
Swallowing a thick knot, Zoe managed to nod. “That’d be great. I’m always starving after my second work shift.”
Noah’s eyes crinkled the tiniest bit at the corners. “Where should I pick you up?”
His question caused a momentary burst of panic. Her second place of employment was only a couple blocks from Hot Ink – she’d caught sight of a help wanted sign in the window on her way home from Hot Ink a couple weeks ago – but… “How about I meet you here, in front of Hot Ink? Since you already know where here is.”
“You sure? I don’t mind coming to wherever you work. I could use the navigation practice.”
She barely repressed a kill-me-now groan at the thought of this sexy stranger walking into her second place of work, all cool and stylish while she’d be looking… well, just the opposite. “Here’s fine. My other job is nearby. It’s no trouble at all.”
“Here it is, then.”
Mina stepped behind the counter. “You’re free to go, Zoe. Good luck tonight.”
Zoe managed a smile. “Thanks.” She’d told Mina all about her new job. “This is Noah Wilder. He’s got a 5:45 with Jed. I’ll let Jed know he’s here before I head out.”
Moments later, she was out on the sidewalk, jacket buttoned to her chin, her cheeks still hot from her encounter with Noah. The fact that they’d be having dinner together that night seemed surreal – she barely noticed her surroundings as she rounded the block, clutching her purse at her side.
The glare of pink and orange neon signage snapped her back into reality as she approached a particularly bright storefront. A sugary aroma permeated the air outside the shop even though the door was closed, and the glaring lights caused her to squint. Bright and bold in all its saccharin glory, Sugar Panda was a beacon against the evening’s fading light.
Pausing for the barest of seconds, Zoe reached into her purse, her fingertips brushing something soft and velvety. Then she pressed a hand against the glass – she’d wipe away the resulting smudges before her shift’s end – and entered the shop.
She was greeted by a few notes of “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head”, courtesy of Kayla and Pete, the “yogurt artists” who were currently manning the toppings counter and register. Neither of them was particularly good at singing, but neither seemed to care.
At any rate, it didn’t matter. At Sugar Panda, when a customer dropped anything – even a penny – into the tip jar, you sang or you died. Or at least, you sang or you faced Dennis, the manager, and dealing with one of his rages if you failed to belt out a tune was a fate comparable to death, some claimed.
“Hey, Zoe!” Pete called, apparently unbothered by having to sing for nickels and dimes.
“Hey.” She gave Pete and Kayla a little wave as she stepped around the counter and headed for the employees-only area of the shop, where she could store her coat and purse. Once there, she pulled one of her Sugar Panda uniform polo shirts from her purse and donned it over top of the t-shirt she’d worn at Hot Ink.
The polo was neon orange – not the best color against her fair skin and midnight-black hair, but the garish shade was small potatoes compared to the headdress she pulled out of her purse next.
Yes, headdress was definitely the right word for the accessory. A pair of plush panda ears attached to a headband, the headdress had been handed to her reverently by Dennis, who considered the ears to be “every yogurt artist’s crown wardrobe jewel”. Zoe jammed them down onto her head, already resigned to the headache she knew would be brought on by several hours of wearing the tight headband.
“See ya later,” Pete said, ducking into the employees-only area and grabbing his coat. “The crumbled peanut butter cup and gummy worm toppings both need restocked, but we’re all out, just FYI. Dennis says we’ll be getting a new shipment in the morning, and until then, what’s out front is all we’ve got.” He gave Zoe an apologetic, tight-lipped look, as if he were a soldier announcing a shortage of ammunition at the frontlines.
“Thanks for the tip,” Zoe said, wincing inwardly at her own word choice. Over the past week, she’d learned to fear the word “tip”. Nothing took the joy out of receiving a little extra for a job well done like having to sing for it.
“No problem.” Seconds later, Pete was gone and Zoe took up her station behind the counter with Kayla.
“Busy night?” Zoe asked, eyeing the half a dozen round tables lined up against the far wall. All but one were taken, and a couple more customers were selecting flavors and filling their yogurt cups at the machines as she spoke.