Indelibly Intimate (14 page)

Chapter Fourteen

A nuclear bomb could have taken out that busy little café and it wouldn’t have stunned Quinn any more than Hammer’s offer had.
Live with him?
Every day, seeing him, being with him, laughing with him, knowing the steel beneath that lazy smile?

Would it be a platonic roommates kind of agreement or the shared bedroom sort? Even if it started out as platonic, she already knew too much. She’d never be able to resist him, even if she wanted to. And she was nearly positive that if this happened, she didn’t intend to resist.

She bit her lip and stared at the damp napkin she was shredding in her lap. “I’m going to need a little while to think about it. It’s a big change.” Lifting her gaze from the ripped paper, she hoped he could see her confusion.

He nodded. “Take your time. The offer’s on the table. Coincidentally, so is lunch. Feel like eating anything?”

She accepted the sandwich he held out to her. If only it were as easy to accept his offer. Unfortunately, the sandwich came with much less complication.

He didn’t try to draw her out in conversation. She was more grateful than she could say. Even if the café were quieter and she didn’t have to shout to be heard over the noise of the lunch crowd, she had way too much on her mind to talk about anything.

She took three bites of the chicken-salad sandwich he’d gotten her and hid the rest under a pile of balled-up napkins. Nerves replaced the hunger in her stomach with a thousand wriggling worries.

“Ready to get back?” Hammer stood as he asked the question. Quinn nodded, grabbed her soda and followed him as he dumped the tray and led her out the doors.

In the fresher air, she could breathe again. Even the sounds of the street were more peaceful than the raucous laughter and conversation from the restaurant.

Hammer’s hand warmed the small of Quinn’s back as they crossed the street. The small act of compassion threw another wrench into her thought processes. He already treated her more like a girlfriend than anything else. There was no way that would stop if she agreed to be his roommate, right? Did she even want it to? Her throat closed up and she coughed, trying to loosen the knot that blocked her airflow.

“You’ve been quiet. Did I say something wrong?”

She pivoted abruptly, caught off guard by Hammer’s softly voiced question. He’d stopped by a concrete column in front of the convention hall. Leaning against it, he looked like a tall, tattooed statue, perfectly formed from a precious metal. Her chest ached with confusion and longing. Why couldn’t she make such a simple choice?

“No, not at all. Sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”

He nodded without further comment and Quinn forced a smile.

“Come on, you’ve got more shitty tribals to cover.” Grabbing his arm, she pulled him toward the convention-hall doors, determined to swallow her worries for the afternoon. Her indecision wasn’t something to burden Hammer with.

At the end of the day, she’d do anything she could to keep from hurting him, no matter what the personal cost might be.

Her forced cheerfulness lasted for most of the afternoon. Instead of watching Hammer work—as she’d spent most of the morning when she wasn’t chatting up potential customers—she spent the time scanning the crowd, getting lost in the sea of cheerful faces and colorful bodies.

Indecision dogged her thoughts. She went from being ninety-eight percent certain she’d take Hammer up on his offer, to being sure she’d leave town and never see him again. Why the fuck was this so hard?

Hammer’s third client of the afternoon passed her. “Thanks,” the woman said, gesturing to the bandage on her upper arm. “This is gorgeous. I’m glad you stopped me this morning.”

“He’s the best,” Quinn replied simply.

When the woman was gone, Hammer came to stand next to Quinn. She feigned interest in the appointment book to avoid his gaze.

“I’ve got to take a break. Stretch my legs for a second. Want to take a walk with me?”

“You go ahead. I’ll stay here and hold down the fort.” She glimpsed up at him and hoped she was imagining the slight disappointment in his eyes.

“Okay, Sparky. I’ll be right back.”

Hammer disappeared into a knot of people. Quinn sighed, trying like fuck to ease the knot of tension in her shoulders. Stretching her legs out, she leaned forward, sighing as her anxious muscles relaxed.

“Well look who’s here. Quinny, how you been?” The familiar voice hit her like a bucket of ice water and she jerked upright with a gasp.

The man standing in front of her, cocky grin gleaming white against his darkly tanned skin and glistening curls, was none other than Guy Dionis. Her jaw worked but sound refused to break free of her frozen vocal cords.

“Looking good, Quinny. I’ve always liked that top on you.”

He leaned forward and took her lips in a demanding kiss. She was too shocked to jerk backward. The feeling of his mouth on hers didn’t stir the passion it used to. After a moment, she regained enough of her brain to pull free from his embrace.

“Guy,” she choked out, crossing her arms over her midsection. “Where have you…”

“I don’t have time right now, got a client waiting for me. But let’s catch up tonight, okay? Meet me at the bar. I’ve got some news that’s gonna put you and me on the map, darlin’.” He pressed another kiss to her stunned lips, winked and walked away whistling.

Quinn stared after Guy, feeling as if someone had yanked her brain and heart from her left ear, stomped on them and walked away without a care in the world. For that matter, someone had.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she grabbed her purse from beneath the table and sprinted down the aisle in the opposite direction than both Guy and Hammer had traveled. Time. And space. She needed both to sort out the knotted snarl of feelings that threatened to swamp her.

Hammer made a circle of the convention floor, more to work off nervous energy than anything else. Quinn had definitely avoided getting close to him since he’d made the offer. He couldn’t deny the impulsive proposition had been sudden but damn it, what was he supposed to do? Watch while the best woman he’d ever known was forced into living at some homeless shelter? The thought was more than unappetizing, it was downright nauseating. Sparky was his, and he’d do whatever it took to protect her.

He stopped short.
Sparky…was his?
They weren’t in a relationship, so how could she be? Unless…

His beleaguered brain caught up with his heart in a rush. He loved Quinn. Her quick wit, her wicked smiles, her uninhibited response to him, all of it. She was perfect for him and he’d be damned if he let her get away.

The memory of Lora made him pause but he dismissed it as quickly as it had come. What he’d felt for Lora wasn’t love. He’d been trying to make up for his brother’s mistakes.

A decision made, Hammer strode back to his booth. He’d tell Quinn about Lora tonight. He didn’t want any secrets between them, not now that he was sure what he felt for her. Lora was the past and if Hammer had any damn choice in the matter, Quinn LaBrea was his present, his future and his eternity.

Rounding the end of the aisle at a fast pace, Hammer nearly collided with the same jackass who’d tried to flatten him with the cart yesterday. He gave
Jersey Shore
a tight nod, ignoring his pissed-off look and continuing to the booth.

“Sparky?” he called as he entered the small space. She wasn’t sitting at the table where he left her. He ducked around the privacy screen. Not there either.

Confusion creased his forehead as he stood in the center of the aisle. Scanning the booths that flanked his, he searched each face for Quinn’s. Lots of people surrounded him but none of them were his girl. Where had she gone?

“There’s the man.” A heavy palm clapped Hammer on the back. He nodded politely at the customer speaking. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day. Where do you want me?”

Hammer guided the tall, thin man into the booth, giving one last glance behind him for Quinn. Where the fuck had she gone?

The eagle spreading across the tall guy’s upper back was the largest piece Hammer had done that day. He tried his damnedest to clear his mind, focusing on the lines of the piece, the wicked curve of the beak, the lethal claws curled around arrows and dollar bills. But almost every time he re-inked his machine, he couldn’t stop his gaze from darting around in search of a reddish-haired woman in a black tank and shorts, with a beautiful phoenix on her thigh.

Hours passed. When he finished the eagle, Hammer took another quick break, circling the convention floor. No sign of Quinn at all. When he returned, his next client was waiting. He worked on a snake tattoo, a flower and then a Day of the Dead skull. People and colors blended together, lines and curves and swirls all increasing his worry. He was taping a bandage loosely over the skull when the loudspeaker above him crackled.

“That concludes day one of the Inktastic Convention! Please finish up your work and clear the floor. We open tomorrow morning at nine, if you can drag your hungover asses out of bed.”

Hammer thanked the woman for her generous tip. After she and her friend left, he began the tedious task of cleaning down his equipment for the day. The door of the autoclave thunked shut and the whir of the machinery, usually a soothing sound, only chafed his already raw nerves.

The sharp scent of bleach cleared his sinuses as he cleaned. If only his worry were as easy to obliterate. Once the autoclave was done, Hammer covered his equipment and secured the booth. His thoughts buzzed as he worked, worries about Quinn stabbing at his brain. She hadn’t been back all afternoon. For all he knew, she’d grabbed her shit and gone home. Could offering to let her move in with him have caused her to be so upset? He didn’t think so, but hell, what did he know?

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he started up to the room. Maybe she had a headache and had gone upstairs to lie down.

“Hey.” Her voice, coming from behind, stopped him in his tracks.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he turned to her. “Hi, Sparky. Where’ve you been?”

Her eyes were downcast, her arms crossed beneath her breasts as she shifted from foot to foot. “Something came up and I had to get it taken care of. I’m sorry.”

“No worries.” Following some instinct he didn’t understand, he closed the distance between them and folded her into his arms.

She resisted for a moment then clung to him almost desperately, burrowing against his chest. Pressing his lips against her hair, he closed his eyes. He didn’t say anything for a while, just rubbed her back, hoping to ease the knots of tension that were so easy to feel against his palm.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest.

“Come on, Sparky. Let’s go get you some dinner.”

Threading his fingers through hers, he led her from the mostly empty convention floor. Something had to have happened while he was gone but he was smart enough not to press it at the moment. All thoughts of coming clean to her about his feelings flew out the damn window. She had a lot going on and telling her something like that when she wasn’t ready to hear it would definitely do more harm than good.

After stowing the pale-and-silent Quinn in their room and wrangling a reluctant promise from her that she wouldn’t leave until he got back, he left to grab some food for them from the restaurants across the street. He needed to protect her, keep her safe from whatever demons were dogging her at the moment. With some food and privacy, he’d do his damnedest to heal whatever wound had broken open. He prayed to whoever would listen that
whatever
hurt her hadn’t been his doing.

Quinn curled on her side, staring at the wall. She felt like a shrimp. A limp, dead, floppy, brainless shrimp. She stretched an arm out in front of her and examined the color. Yup. Gray. Not even the bright-pink blush of a cooked shrimp. Just a spineless crustacean that should be skewered and thrown over an open flame to cook until it was rubber.

What the fuck was wrong with her? This should be an easy decision. Guy had
left
her. Not only had he left her, he’d taken her credit and shoved it in the toilet before skipping town. She should have throttled him, as she’d done in her daydreams over the past weeks.

But instead of the blinding rage she’d thought she’d have when she saw him again, a cold confusion swamped her. Doubt crept into her consciousness, along with the memory of him from years ago, his bright eyes, clever smile and warm hands. He hadn’t always been this way. They’d been good together once. They’d fallen in love when she was only a girl, and somewhere along the way she’d become a woman. But she wasn’t the only one who’d changed. The sweet, laughing boy she’d known had become self-centered, more concerned for his own well-being than anyone else’s. Was the man she’d loved beneath that tanned veneer anymore? Should she meet him tonight to find out?

Balling the pillow up against her, she burrowed into it. The musky, sweet smell of Hammer’s soap greeted her nostrils.
Hammer.
She’d never known a man like him. The way he treated her, like a precious thing to be cared for, protected, even cherished, it warmed her to the core. He teased her mercilessly, he drove her body mad, and the way he’d held her when she returned to the convention confused and bewildered? It almost melted the last of the resistance she’d tried to put between them.