The Tattoo Artist and the Girl from the Coffee Shop Read online

  "Don't be."

  "Oh, and your shirt." Tessa's eyes widened as she saw the huge patch of wetness, along with a black streak from her mascara on his left shoulder and chest.

  Chuckling, Chase shook his head and stood, walking toward the back of the room and a set of five lockers. "Tears are the least of my worries. Over my lifetime I've been cried on, puked on, pissed on..."

  Tessa frowned. "Pissed on?"

  Chase chuckled a little louder as he opened a locker and pulled out a fresh t-shirt. "Yeah. College. Frat party."

  "College?" She cringed as she said it because she could hear the surprise in her voice and knew how bad that sounded.

  "Yup. But that was another life." To her relief, he didn't seem fazed by her ignorant comment.

  With his back to Tessa, he grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up over his head and tossed it into the locker.

  Tessa's eyes widened as she scanned his broad, muscular back. "Nice." She thought she'd just said the word in her head, but when he turned and caught her gaze, amusement in his blue eyes, she realized she'd said it out loud.

  "Your back tattoo. Wow." The tattoo, which was of the scales of justice with the words TRUTH and JUSTICE, covered his entire back. "There must be a story behind that."

  Chase pulled the new t-shirt – which was identical to the previous one – over his head, ran his hand through his short dark hair and made his way back over to her. "There's a story to all the tattoos I have on my body, Tessa."

  She could only imagine, and she had an urgent need to know them all.

  Chapter 2

  Chase

  Sitting back down on the stool, Chase grabbed the tattoo gun, turned it on and swirled back around to Tessa, who had managed to pull herself together. He wished he could say he knew how she felt and could relate, but he couldn’t. The truth was he'd never lost anyone close to him and he had had an easy and good upbringing. His parents were serious overachievers who tended to press their goals and aspirations on him and his siblings, but that wasn't unlike many stereotypical American parents. His parents just took things to the extreme.

  But, despite not experiencing what she'd been through, he could empathize and couldn’t begin to imagine the pain she was experiencing currently. Everything within him wanted to simply hold her, care for her and give her whatever she wanted to make the sadness in her pretty forest green eyes turn to happiness. There was more to her story, much more – he could sense that she was skimming the top and even that seemed hard for her.

  "So, you ready to continue?" He pasted a smile on his face, hoping to see her glossed lips return the smile to him.

  She took a deep breath in, her chest expanding with the breath, making his eyes dip momentarily to her ample breasts, and then exhaled loudly. Slowly a soft smile touched her lips and his pulse accelerated. Her smile lit up her entire face, though it didn't quite reach her eyes, which had faint streaks of black under them from her ruined makeup.

  Well, I'll take what I can get, he mused.

  "Ready," she confirmed, her green eyes catching his.

  She winced as the needle touched the skin once again and he felt bad for the pain he was inflicting on her, but hearing a bit of her story he could see how this tattoo was going to be therapeutic for her and well worth the discomfort she was experiencing at the moment. Most people who came into his shop did it on a whim and decided on random images, whatever caught their eyes at that moment. They didn’t want meaningful art, they wanted something trendy to show their friends. But with Tessa that wasn't the case, this meant something to her, which made him determined to ensure it was the best work he'd ever done.

  "So what about you?"

  Huh? Caught up in his own thoughts of her situation and his work, he hadn't realized how intently she was watching him. Finishing the line he was working on, he looked up and met her gaze.

  "What about me?" he parroted.

  "Yeah, you said you went to college."

  Chase could have groaned out loud, but refrained himself. His time at college was one of his least favourite topics of discussion. The conversations always started and ended the same way. People surprised he went to college and then shocked he was "wasting" his life as a tattooist when he could be living the dream – so to speak.

  But, she'd opened up to him... Chase sighed.

  "Yup. I spent a good number of years at college, at my parents' insistence. I received my degree. Worked in my field, hated it and decided to follow my passion."

  "Tattooing?"

  Chase grinned as he continued to work on her arm. "Art. Tattooing is a great job, and more than pays the bills since I own the shop, but painting is my passion."

  "So what type of painting do you do?"

  Relieved the topic of conversation shifted so quickly and painlessly, Chase relaxed as he began to talk, starting a free-flowing conversation that lasted the entire time he worked.

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  "So what do you think?" Chase stood and offered his hand to her, helping her off of the chair and onto her feet.

  Tessa felt a mixture of excitement and anxiety. She couldn’t wait to see the finished product. From what she could see as he worked it looked amazing, but to see it cleaned up would be a different story. Her anxiety was for the fact that the experience was over and she hated the idea of leaving and never seeing him again. Something about their conversation had her feeling good about him; she felt a connection had formed between them. Each new fact she learned about him made her want to learn more. He was easily one of the most fascinating and sexy men she'd ever met.

  Her thoughts of not seeing Chase again quickly vanished when she peered at her arm in the full-length mirror in front of her and gasped. She was speechless. The tattoo was nothing short of amazing. The color and texture were so vivid. The phoenix looked so real that it felt as though it was going to leap from her arm and fly across the room at any moment.

  "Good? Bad? Like? No?" Chase prompted as he stood behind her looking at the tattoo in the mirror with her.

  Tessa caught his eyes in the mirror and smiled. "I love it. I mean, I really love it!" Excitement overwhelmed her as she spun around and threw herself into his arms. Chase caught her and held her tight to him for a moment longer than a friendly hug. Reluctantly, and slightly embarrassed, she pulled away, murmuring, "Sorry."

  "Nothing to be sorry for." He motioned toward the chair. "All right, sit back down and I'll get your arm dressed."

  Tessa nodded, settled herself back into the chair and wordlessly waited for Chase to cover her tattoo as he spewed off instructions on taking care of it and ensuring it didn't get infected. His words flew over her head as she debated with herself on if she could be bold enough to ask him out to dinner, or a nice stroll in the park or... anything that would give her more time with him.

  She found herself wishing she was more direct, like her co-worker Samantha. Many of the other girls at the coffee shop hated Samantha. Many was an understatement; virtually all hated her. But a part of Tessa appreciated Samantha's ease with men and how she’d say anything on her mind, not giving a damn what other people thought. She envied how Samantha would set her sights on some hottie who would come into the shop and within no time, she'd have him eating out of her hand.

  The thoughts on how she'd go about asking him on a date continued to run through her mind as he led her to the front counter and she paid him for the tattoo. A small amount of money as far as she was concerned for the beautiful work of art he'd created for her.

  "Look. Ummm..." Once the transaction was complete Chase grabbed a business card with his name on it from the stack on the counter beside the cash register. "If you need anything. Anyone to talk to, we could grab a coffee or... Well, whatever. Give me a call, don't be shy."

  Slightly stunned, Tessa accepted the card and peered down at it. He hadn't written his private number, just the shop. Did that mean anything? Maybe he was offering to be nice. If he was really serious about spending time with h
er, wouldn't he have asked for her number without waiting for her to call? She groaned inwardly; she was too out of practice when it came to men, and to have two men asking her out in the span of two days was unheard of for her.

  "Thank you. Maybe I will." Her eyes caught his deep, icy blue ones. Eyes that made her insides melt and heart skip a beat.

  "Well, I hope you do."

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  Chase

  "This is stalker-like behaviour, Chase," Chase scolded himself as he sat outside Tessa's house, a modest suburban two-story home, “seriously pathetic.” He'd been kicking himself for not getting her phone number for the past week as he waited for her to call.

  She hadn't.

  He'd wondered why she hadn't called. Maybe she was already dating someone? She hadn't mentioned even a remote interest in any guy during their nearly seven-hour-long talk, but then again that didn't mean anything. He'd thought there was a connection between them... He’d always prided himself in being able to read women, maybe he was losing his touch?

  Taking a deep breath in, he got out of the Jeep, closed the door behind him and made his way to her front door. It was late in the evening and all of the lights in the house were out except for one that he presumed to be the living room. As he approached the front door he could faintly hear a scream and ominous music.

  Chase grinned; so she was a horror movie fan. He loved a woman who could appreciate a good cheesy horror flick. He hesitated before rapping on the door. It was a Friday night, maybe she had a date and he was imposing on their date, how fucking awkward would that be? He almost turned back, but instead knocked on the door and waited, his hands thrust into the front pockets of his jeans.

  He couldn't believe how nervous he was; he never got nervous when talking to women. Hell, one of the easiest things in the world was to pick up a woman, it was like second nature to him. But with her it was different, he usually didn’t feel this kind of pull, which was why he needed to spend more time with her and see what it was that was attracting him. She seemed so lost and alone, he felt an intense need to keep her safe in the circle of his arms. She needed someone, he was as sure of that as he was his next breath. And he wanted to be that someone.

  As he knocked a second time what he presumed to be the kitchen light flicked on seconds before the door was flung open to display Tessa without a stitch of makeup, her dark hair in a ponytail. She was wearing a tight-fitting short-sleeved t-shirt that dipped low into her cleavage, paired with black, red and white Snoopy pajama bottoms.

  Guess that means I'm not interrupting a date. Chase couldn't help but grin. She looked cute, real cute, in a sweet girl-next-door sort of way. He'd never been one for diva-like women – too high-maintenance for him – although he'd been around and dated more than his fair share.

  "Chase..." An alluring rosy blush coloured her cheeks as she looked down at her attire, shifting nervously from one bare foot to the other and back again. "What are you doing here?"

  Ah fuck. She didn’t appear to be too excited about seeing him and her tone certainly wasn’t encouraging. Chase ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Maybe he’d misjudged the entire situation.

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  Tessa

  Holy shit! Tessa had spent the past week debating on calling him. Each time she reached for the phone she'd get a bout of nerves and talk herself out of it. The first day she’d met him she’d spent ten minutes crying; it was embarrassing. She’d left with a beautiful tattoo and embarrassing mascara streaks down her cheeks she hadn’t realized were there until she’d gotten into the car and seen her face in the rear-view mirror. But there he was, on her doorstep. She was shell-shocked, and horrified he was seeing her in her pajamas and without makeup. She felt too vulnerable and exposed as she was.

  "Would you believe I was in the neighbourhood?" Chase joked.

  Tessa shook her head, reminding herself to remain cool. "Not for an instant."

  "Okay. Truth is, I waited for you to call. You didn't. So I looked up the copy of your driver's licence we have on file, got your address and... Well...” he spread his hands out to the sides. “Here I am."

  Play it cool Tessa, she coached herself. Just play it cool. He wouldn’t be on your doorstep if he wasn’t interested.

  "Kinda stalkery, don't ya think?"

  He held his thumb and forefinger up to her eyes. "Only a little bit."

  Laughing, Tessa decided to force back her hesitations and stepped aside. "Would you like to come in? If I had known you were dropping by, I would have dressed a little better."

  "You look great.”

  Tessa watched as Chase as he entered her kitchen and gave it a quick survey, while removing his shoes.

  "Like I said, I'm just in the process of moving out of my apartment so the amount of furniture in the house is sparse."

  "As long as you can offer me coffee and a place to sit, I'll be happy.” He flashed her a smile. “Hell, place to lean even."

  Tessa looked down at her attire once more, considering whether she should excuse herself to run upstairs to change or not.

  As if reading her mind, he smiled and said, "I love Snoopy, don't worry about it."

  Tessa could feel her face turning crimson yet again. It felt like she spent most of her time with him blushing or crying. "Normally I wouldn't look like this when I have company," she defended. Though had she been honest with him, company was few and far between.

  Chase shrugged as he slipped off his leather jacket and hung it on a hook next to the door. "You look great." He motioned to his attire of worn blue jeans and t-shirt. "Besides, I'm not exactly dressed up."

  Oh, but you look really good, Tessa groaned inwardly. She was aching to run her hands along the hard muscle of his chest and upper arms. In her mind’s eye she could still remember how the contours of muscle of his shoulders and back felt under her fingers. Instead, she pulled open the drawer containing the single-serving cups of coffee for him to examine and choose a kind.

  "Help yourself."

  "Coffee enthusiast?" he asked, raising a brow at her before scanning the hundreds of single-serving packets, containing dozens of flavours.

  "Nope. Hate coffee. Those are for company."

  "So you entertain a lot?" He pulled a cup of bold brew from the drawer, passed it to her and closed the drawer.

  "Nope." She rarely had company, no one had come to visit her new home – he was the first. She'd become somewhat of a bit of a recluse since her mother fell ill, devoting her time to her mother and neglecting friendships. Eventually invitations to go out and people dropping by dwindled down to virtually no one. Not that she blamed them; she'd eventually stop asking as well if she'd been in their shoes.

  Once the coffee was finished brewing she turned back to him and placed the coffee on the island he was leaning against. A silence overtook them as he took a sip, increasing her nervousness. Their conversation at the tattoo parlour had taken such an intimate turn Tessa felt slightly embarrassed that she'd given up so much about herself to a virtual stranger.

  "Come here." Chase motioned her over, placing the cup beside him on the counter.

  Tessa closed the distance between them, her heat rate accelerating with each step. She stopped less than a foot away from him and looked up into his eyes. His broad frame eclipsed her smaller, 5'3” one, standing close to a foot taller than her. There seemed to be an electricity flowing between them. For a brief moment she thought he was going to kiss her; she silently prayed he would.

  Placing a hand on each of her shoulders, he turned her slightly so the arm with the tattoo faced him and her heart sank.

  Awww, damn. Of course, the tattoo.

  He slid up her short sleeve to do a full examination of her nearly healed tattoo.

  "It’s healing up nicely." Her breath hitched, and she held back a soft moan from escaping her lips. He ran his fingertip down her arm from her shoulder to her elbow, sending a shiver through her, igniting a soft throbbing between her legs.

 
; Hearing her sharp intake of breath Chase's gaze left her arm to meet her eyes. She saw a flicker of desire within his eyes, further fuelling her slow building yearning.

  Chase lowered his eyes to her lips. She wondered if he was going to kiss her this time, and she longed for it to happen, but didn't have the courage to close those few inches herself.

  Do it! Just go for it. Do something crazy for once in your life, a voice in the back in her mind urged her.

  Tessa's eyes travelled back up to meet his and they locked another moment, his hands running up and down her arms. She chewed at her lower lip and his eyes caught the gesture. Just when she thought he was going to make the move and give her what she was longing for he took a step backwards, crushing her hopes.

  "The reason I came here was because I wanted to take you out."

  "Oh." She could hear the disappointment in her tone and cringed. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was disappointed over the date proposal.

  He frowned. "Well, if you aren't interested..."

  "I mean... I'd love to." God, why am I feeling like an inexperienced teenager around him?

  "Good. Tomorrow night?"

  Excitement rushed through her, a bright smile touching her lips. "Perfect."

  "On that note..." Chase chugged the remainder of his coffee. "I'll be leaving."

  Dammit, ask him to stay for the movie, a voice in the back of her head continued to coach. Hanging out with him watching a movie sure beat sitting alone with a tub of buttered popcorn that would surely go straight to her thighs. But she didn’t have the confidence. It felt like a lifetime since she’d last dated someone and she was attempting to get her bearings and silently chastised herself for being so shy. She was hardly a virgin and this certainly wasn’t new territory for her, but she’d been out of the game for so long it might as well have been. She followed him to the door. He opened the door, turned back to her and stood at the threshold, his hand on the knob.