CHAPTER THREE

FINN

The bell above the shop door rings, signaling another customer, and I call out, "Just a minute." With a last swipe of the rag and disinfectant, my work area is clean again and ready for my next appointment.

"No need to rush; I'm just dropping this off for you." The dulcet tones of Abigail send a shock wave through my body. Her unexpected arrival has all sorts of questions flying around in my head, but whatever the reason, I'm glad to see her again so soon.

"Hey! What's up?"

She brandishes a dark book before offering it to me. "Your hold came in, and I thought I'd save you a trip to the library ? small town hospitality and all that." Her hazel eyes avoid mine as she focuses on the open binder of tattoo designs on the counter, a pink-tipped finger tracing a drawing of a butterfly.

"Thanks for this; I appreciate it." Taking the book, I glance at the cover of the back of a man as he rides off on a motorcycle before tucking it behind the counter. She didn't have to make this trip, yet she did. That has to mean something, right? Optimism sprouts in my heart at the possibility.

Abigail's attention remains on the tattoos, and I ask, "Are you interested in getting something for yourself?"

All I see is smooth skin ? a perfect canvas for me ? and I'd bet she's a tattoo virgin. No doubt she's a virgin in every way if touching is an issue for her.

"Oh, no, I don't think I'd handle it very well.. Pain and I aren't good friends. I don't even have my ears pierced." She pushes a wave of hair back to reveal earlobes free of piercings. My teeth ache to nibble on the delicate flesh, but I quickly reign in the urge.

"Not a problem. I could give you a temporary one."

"Like a peel and stick? I'm surprised you'd offer those here."

"We get all kinds of customers, and you're not the first one to express worry over pain. But I was thinking of something a little different. I could draw the design with special markers meant for skin ? almost like henna but not quite." My mind races with ideas: a floral bracelet to suit her preference for rose perfume or books with a favorite quote of hers. Or my name to lay claim to her.

Time stretches between us as I wait for her decision, and I wonder if there's anything else I can say to sway her to my side. Promise to be careful. To abide by her boundaries.

"When would we do it? I'm on my lunch break now, and I'm sure you have a full day scheduled already."

Victory. "How about tomorrow during your break? And if you don't have a preference, I can come up with a design for you." Make everything as easy as possible, so she doesn't change her mind .

"Alright, tomorrow. I'll see you then." Abigail gives a short wave of farewell before leaving, and an irrepressible smile forms at the knowledge that I'm going to see her again.

"Was that Abigail?" Kyle comes up behind me after finishing with a client. "What's she doing here?"

"She's interested in a temporary tattoo." I skip mentioning the book; Kyle doesn't need to know everything.

"How's that going to work with her touching problem? Man, Mike's going to have a field day with this."

He chuckles while typing in information on the front work computer, and my gut tightens in annoyance. "You're not going to tell him. What Abigail does isn't his business anymore." And never will be again if I have my way.

Kyle's forehead scrunches in confusion. "You're not thinking of going there, are you? Michael can be an ass sometimes, but he made a good point last time. I'm not sure you're her type."

"Let me worry about Abigail." I don't need his doubts fueling my own. She fucking came to me today. Me . The shaggy-haired and tattooed parlor owner. I can work with that first step given a little time.

Loath to continue this line of questioning, I brusquely check with him about the rest of the day's appointments ? the subtext reading that our previous discussion is over.