Skin Tight
Page 27

 J.M. Stone

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Although, I’d been the one surprised when I called my parents to find them absolutely unsurprised—but that was only because Ian had actually gone to see them and asked permission to marry me. I’d also found out that (again, surprisingly from my parents) that Ian had called Brandon to tell him what he was doing and to ask him to be his best man. Brandon (and Ian, for that matter) had left out that little detail, too, so I could only laugh as I imagined Chloe slapping Brandon for keeping that from her, as well.
The visit to my parents’ place was pretty quick, mainly because Ian had already showed my mom the ring, and she’d previously oohed and ahhed over it—but that doesn’t mean she didn’t fuss appropriately over me—cause she totally did. Dad smiled as he grunted, so I took that to mean he was happy. I love my parents…
My brother, Calland, was next on the list, mainly because I had to pass his place on the way to Jenna’s. He was his usual self, especially since the first words out of his mouth were, “He knock you up?” He’s an ass, but he did redeem himself by showing his very seldom seen softer side and giving me a hug before he told me that he was very happy for me.
Jenna reacted much the same way Chloe did, but on a quieter scale because she’d just gotten the baby down for a nap. Noah hugged me, and the kids smiled, but weddings, to them, are no big deal.
Emma reacted much the same way as Chloe, but it was twice as bad coming from her because it wasn’t just Emma there. Allie had made sure that she was waiting for me, too, since Emma had called and told her I was coming. I got double-timed, both of them jumping around me, hugging me, and screeching non-stop until Jackson and Luke had to make them quit because they startled the little ones.
All of the guys had given me big hugs and their own little speeches like Brandon had done, making me tear up once more, I finally headed back home to Ian, who’d still been sleeping when I left. He knew where I was, though, because he’d called me when he woke up, chuckling in my ear when I told him what I was doing.
He was standing in the doorway when I pulled in, smiling at me. I closed the garage door behind me and walked directly into his arms, my hands sliding up his chest to lock around the back of his neck, pulling his head down to me.
I met his lips with mine in a lingering, searching kiss, moaning against his mouth as he moved his hands down to my hips, lifting me so that I straddled his waist. We held the kiss for a long moment before I broke it, dropping my legs down with one last peck. He set me down gently on my feet, moving back into the house so I could follow.
“Well? Did you go show off your bling-bling?” he asked, smirking.
“First off, never use that word again…” I started, shaking my head and my finger at him. “And second, of course I did!”
I tossed my keys down on the counter with my purse and my phone and then turned back to him. “So. What are we gonna do today?” I asked, sweetly.
“It’s Sunday, we have nowhere else to be today, right?” he asked.
“Nope,” I replied, popping the ‘p’ exaggeratedly and grinning.
“Then what the fuck you standing around here for?” he growled, stepping toward me, his intent gleaming in his eyes.
“Run, Leah,” he murmured, inching toward me once more.
“Why?” I asked smartly. “You gonna chase me?” I shot him a heated look, my tongue darting out to lick my lips, curling up into a sassy grin when he tracked every movement, his eyes darkening.
Right then, I knew exactly what my day was going to consist of…
So I ran.
And sweet God in heaven did he catch me...again and again and again.
Chapter 16
“Hey!” Emma called out in greeting when I walked into Skin Deep, striding past the clients waiting on the comfy leather couches they had arranged in the lobby of the shop. I moved beyond the counter and hugged my sister, then slid onto the empty stool beside her after hanging my coat up on the rack.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, swiveling her own stool so we were facing each other behind the counter. “And why the hell are you wearing shorts? It’s like negative six out there!”
“I came to see if one of the guys had time to squeeze me in,” I told her. “And it’s thirty-nine, not negative six. Yes, before you ask, my legs are freezing, but it’s not like I was running around in shorts for nothing.”
It’d been a week since the proposal and I was still on cloud nine. Chloe had already practically planned my wedding in that time, and then threatened my life when I told her we were probably just gonna elope like Allie and her brother did. Seriously, if looks could kill, I’d be dead.
I’d had to convince her that I was just joking (sort of), and then steered the conversation back to her own upcoming nuptials. They’d decided on a Christmas wedding and everything was finally in place and planned completely down to the minute. We just had roughly eight weeks to go and I swear, she got giddier with every passing day. Not that I could blame her, because she seriously deserved all that happiness and more.
Emma brought me back to the present when she chuckled. “Have you seen the waiting area?” she asked.
I looked back out and counted five people sitting or standing around the lobby. “Are they all waiting for tattoos?”
She shook her head. “No. It actually shouldn’t be too long. Most of them are waiting for piercings. It’s weird, really. People have been coming in like crazy for them.” She lowered her voice, leaning in so no one else could hear. “I swear, if one more simpering co-ed comes in here wanting her belly button done…” she trailed off, shaking her head.
“That bad?” I asked back, just as quietly.
She shrugged. “It wouldn’t be, but they all seem to have a penchant for passing out and then milking the situation for all its worth when the guys show concern.” She rolled her eyes. “I caught one yesterday reaching up and grabbing Luke’s bicep, squeezing it dramatically before she batted her eyelashes and said, ‘Oh my, you must really work out,’ and then giggled uncontrollably.”
I winced. “Yeesh. That is pretty bad.” Then I smiled, my words laced with amusement when I asked what Luke had said about it, knowing that it’d be good.
Emma, to her credit, managed to keep her voice low as she told me, “He just stared at her and asked if she had something in her eye. You know, ‘cause she kept batting her damn eyelashes like a little twit.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t smack the eyelashes off her simpering little face,” I muttered wryly as I reached over and stole a mint from the basket she had sitting beside her.
“Me, too,” she grunted, then laughed.
I shook my head as I opened the mint, popping it into my mouth as I replied, sighing, “Well, I guess it comes with the territory. You married a hot-ass tattoo artist that has a hot-ass brother tattoo artist, and they have an extra-hot-ass new business partner/tattoo artist. Can you blame the ladies for lining up?” I bit into the mint, breaking it into pieces in my mouth, because I’ve never been able to just let one dissolve. Pity. I might’ve started if I’d known what was coming.
“So, I’m extra-hot-ass, huh?” a deep, low, smooth as silk voice said softly, right behind my ear.