Chapter 6

6

CROW

E mma was completely right. I spent an hour arranging the window display to show off five of the funniest t-shirts right after our lunch, and I’ve sold one already. It’s a tiny thing, yet it feels symbolic. Not just a sign that I need help with marketing and advertising, but that Emma is good for me. As if I had any doubt.

I just hope I can be good for her, too. I’ve been so afraid to screw up in the eyes of the town that I’ve been keeping pretty much to myself the past few years, even though I’ve always wanted to make a real home here in Cedarville, and welcome people into my space and create a community for the tattoo enthusiasts. Which usually are the rockers, the punks and the weirdos. You know – my people.

Wandering around the storeroom, I find a couple of small pieces of wood. Not a very interesting display shelf by itself, but all it takes is twenty minutes and a marker to re-create a bunch of classic sailor tattoos along the length and front edges of them. With the addition of some eyelets and fishing line, the slightly precarious shelf floats right against the window. It’s just strong enough to hold several wrist cuffs, some wild sunglasses, and a few hair clips.

Now I just need some signage.

Is there any chance you have a few minutes after work to help me with a project you inspired?

It only takes about ten minutes for her to respond, which means she’s been checking her phone. That’s a good sign.

Emma: For sure! See you at 6:30.

To keep from pacing in circles until I can see Emma, I go through the monthly financial junk. I’m not bad at bookkeeping, it’s just really boring. Plus, it points out my uneven sales, and how I really need to increase business.

Thank goodness for the Vift honorarium. I know a lot of the guys sacrifice a lot more than I do in order to be part of the team. I’ve never had a call when I was in the middle of doing a tattoo. Most of the time it’s a case of taking a minute to close the shop and then I can go.

People with an office job would find it a lot more awkward. Worse, what about a lumberjack who is in the middle of the forest, halfway up a tree when the call comes? Or a farmer right in the middle of feeding the animals?

I’m glad that Emma understands that this is part of my life.

I watch closely when she crosses the street just past six-thirty. As soon as she sees my new display, she actually squeals, laughing and clapping her hands together. The second she’s inside, I gather her into my arms. “Is it nuts that I missed you?”

Her chin tips up, her eyes soft and dreamy. “Not at all. Also, you always say the right thing, did you know that?”

My hands skim over her waist to caress her hips and ass, then back up to float slightly under her breasts. Just close enough to tease, and watch her eyes widen. “You’re too sexy for your own good, Sparky. As a way to keep my hands to myself, can you help me make some signs for the front window?”

She giggles sweetly. “Sure.” It only takes about an hour for us to hand letter the signs on her thick sketch paper.

The whiskey shirt in the window is now labeled ‘Does your dad need this?’ The beer shirt has a sign that says, ‘Your weird uncle would love this!’ The leather wrist cuffs have a word bubble that reads, ‘You put on pants this morning? Good for you! You deserve a treat!’ Emma’s sassy sayings hit exactly the friendly, welcoming vibe that I think might help get people through the door.

When we’re finished, we walk out in front of the shop, studying the window.

Emma’s finger plays with her bottom lip as she stares, thinking. “I’m going to move that one sign a little higher. And I’ll make one for the sunglasses that says something about looking cool and protecting your peepers. Then you’ll have it ready to go for when you get more of them in and redo the window display.”

I roll my eyes and groan. “You mean I have to do this more than once?”

Guiding her by the elbow, I move us to the edge of the sidewalk, nodding hello to a middle-aged couple as they walk by. The woman is fixated on the grocery store ahead, but the man looks in my shop window and smiles slightly at one of the shirts.

“Yeah – give people something different to look at. People who walk by all the time will notice little changes.”

“You studied marketing, didn’t you?”

She laughs. “I thought about doing that in college. Instead, I just took a couple of art courses and read a lot about it.”

“It’s not too late. There’s a great college down in Charlotte. Or New York isn’t that far.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Eesh, no more big cities. I already did hard time in Chicago.”

My arm slips around her waist. “So… You’re officially a small-town girl now?”

“I’d really like to be, yes.”

“Does that mean you’re staying here in Cedarville?”

Her tongue darts across her lower lip as we drift closer. “I’m going to see what happens at the end of the summer. I know my aunt and uncle don’t want me to stay with them much longer than that.”

Cuddling her against me, my lips gravitate to her ear. “I bet you’d love my house. I’m a pretty good cook. And obviously I’ve taken courses in cleanliness and sterilization because of what I do.”

Emma laughs, her head tipping back as I kiss along her throat. Then I spot an older woman glaring, so I hurry us back inside and lock the door. “How about a proper tour of the shop?” I ask.

“Sure.” She looks interested as I walk her around the front desk and to the padded bed and chair in the other window. “I can’t believe people get tattoos in public.” She looks up at me. “Isn’t that a bit weird?”

“Hmm. Some people like it. It’s a whole rite of passage thing, maybe. Or a tough guy thing. For people who don’t want to be on display, there’s a private room in the back. Come on, I’ll show you.”

As I lead her into the back room, Emma’s fingers slip through mine. We stop in the doorway and I kiss the top of her vanilla-scented head. Every time we touch, I’m consumed with the urge to caress her, bring her pleasure, and find out what she needs.

Finally, we’re alone. Her soft eyes look up at me with what I desperately hope is desire, and I grin.

“Wanna test out the table?”