Permanent Ink (Something to Celebrate #1) (6 page)

“Well,” she began, “it’s a statewide contest sponsored by Macy’s. You know, the Thanksgiving Day parade in New York City?” The women nodded eagerly. “So, the contest is for small towns, and I’m entering Celebration in it. Judging takes place on the Fourth of July and if we win, yes, we get fifty thousand dollars.” She glanced at Sheila. “But the prize money is for future town events, not supplies.”

Shelia rolled her eyes. “So you’d be padding your own budget.” She scowled when Barb gave her a sharp elbow. “Sorry. That came out wrong.”

Blair shrugged. “It came out honest. I hadn’t thought about it that way, really, but you’re right, in a way. Think about this, though—with that kind of money, Celebration could…turn itself into a tourist destination.”

Yeah. That was it—start building the enthusiasm early. Because she
had
to win that parade contest. She nodded encouragingly as if to reinforce her own enthusiasm.

The women stared at her for a second and then burst into laughter, right as Debbie arrived at the table with Styrofoam plates full of doughnuts.

“What’s so funny?” Debbie asked.

Blair tried to give her a smile. “What would you think if Celebration became the parade capital of New York?”

Debbie pursed her lips. “As long as it brought a ton of people into my shop, I think it would be wonderful.”

“Bingo,” Blair said. “See? It’s not only about winning the prize. This could be the start of something great.” And she
needed
a real challenge. She needed to prove herself—to herself. It felt good to be invested in something and even better to be using creative energy after months of doing nothing but shuffling résumés and spending countless hours on Monster.com.

Holding up a finger, she glanced around the table. “In fact, I have a lot more in the works than sprucing up the parade. In order to bring more people in to watch, we could have a carnival the day of the Fourth. And in the evening? How about a black-tie event on the town commons? Fireworks and champagne. What do you think?”

“Ooh, classy!” Shelia said.

Barb nodded. “I love it.”

Paula took a bite of her doughnut and nodded with enthusiasm.

“But what about the other item on the meeting docket…that festival. Won’t it be a problem?” Sheila took a bite of donut and looked at Blair.

“The what? What other item?” Blair frowned.

Paula giggled. “Ink Fest. Right here in Celebration. But it’s the week before the Fourth, so I don’t see why it should be a problem, Sheila.”

Shelia waved a hand in the air. “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared is all I’m saying. I’ve heard those tattoo festivals can get out of hand.”

Tattoo festivals?

Ben.

The festival was the week before the Fourth? No way in hell. Her hands would be completely full of parade preparations.

She’d nip that idea in the bud the minute she saw him. In forty minutes. Her stomach jumped and she ignored it. She’d set him straight…she’d…take a deep breath right now and act casual, that’s what she’d do.

The door jingled, but Blair barely noticed. She took that deep breath and plowed on.

“Is there even a schedule for this—what is it—Ink Fest?” she asked politely.

“The proposal says that ends the day before the parade,” Shelia answered. “Blair, the Fourth of July parade is the biggest one of the year. We line up floats the night before—we shut down the area around the town commons to do it. I don’t see how Ink Fest
wouldn’t
get in the way, since there will probably be hundreds of people still hanging around town.”

Hundreds?

Blair gave a dismissive wave. “No, no. Don’t worry. Ink Fest won’t be on the town commons, so don’t worry.”

Shelia frowned. “Where
else
is something that size going to be?”

“It can move to the moon for all I care. Which I don’t.”

They still looked worried.

Sheila shook her head. “The town council will probably approve Ink Fest. What are you going to do then?”

Damn. Why hadn’t she taken Lola’s advice and kept her mouth shut until she got the lay of the land in this town? Blair raised her eyebrows and bought some time by taking a bite of doughnut. “Mmm.” She chewed. “This is delicious.”

When she’d swallowed the bite, she smiled at them. “Look, I don’t know a lot about tattoo people, but aren’t all…artists kind of unreliable? Undisciplined? Who knows if that festival will even get planned, much less take place? Let’s just focus on the parade, ladies. Okay?”

All three women stared at her for a few seconds more and then in unison, they turned their gazes upward. A shadow fell across Blair’s side and she looked up, too. Right into the deep brown eyes of Ben Lambert. She froze, her mouth full of chocolate frosting.

“I’d like to know the answer to Shelia’s question, too,” he said in an easy tone. Too easy to be authentic. “Care to elaborate about what you’ll do when Ink Fest happens? Because it’s going to.”

Blair managed to swallow the bite and wipe her mouth with a napkin. Her heart was hammering and it wasn’t only from being grilled by the accounting girls. Like yesterday, she’d managed to insult him without even trying. And now she had to
meet
with him? In private. Oh, Jesus.

Plus—Ben was even
better-
looking than he was yesterday. And he smelled really good. Clean, with a whiff of something spicy. Something dangerous. He wore a T-shirt, which left his arms bare and her gaze stopped right there.

She’d seen plenty of guys with tattoos and never thought much about it, but this guy? The combination of everything else amazing about him plus the tattoos did something to her. Her brain went on autopilot, her mouth wouldn’t quite close, and she stared. His arms were covered in tattoos. Not just a few scattered here and there, but a snaky, twisting tableau of pirate ships that began at his wrists, traveled up his forearms, curved over his already curving biceps, and disappeared under the edges of the sleeves. She
knew
she was staring, but she couldn’t stop because the more she looked, the more she had an insane urge to trace those sharp black lines with her fingertips. When he let out a light cough, her gaze flew up and she forced a pleasant smile.

“Hi,” she said, her voice a bit too breathy. She patted her chest and made a show of clearing her throat. “Wow, what a sugar rush. Let me try that again.” Pushing back her chair, she stood up and stuck out her hand for him to shake. “Nice to see you again,” she said.

But instead of shaking her hand, he took it in his and gently tugged her forward. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, “I’d like to speak with you for a moment.” And then he reached down, grabbed her purse, and ushered her to the door. Before Blair could even protest, he turned back around with a charming smile. “Sorry, ladies, but Blair and I have a meeting this morning.”

“We do,” Blair found herself agreeing. She started to snatch her purse away from him, but caught herself just in time. No need to add fuel to the gossip fire. She’d been in town for three and half days and she was pretty sure that her picture on yesterday’s front page with the tattooed hunk, now holding her purse, was gossip enough. So she gave the ladies a wave. “Thanks so much for the outing. Next time is my treat.” They looked a little bit confused and a lot bit suspicious, but waved back.

As soon as Blair was sure nobody in Debbie’s could see her, she grabbed her bag away from Ben and looped it crosswise over her shoulder. “That was rude,” she said, not looking at him. Not
daring
to look would be more like it.

“So was gossiping about town-council business in the doughnut shop.” He halted on the sidewalk. “That shit will spread like wildfire. It was unprofessional.”

Blair gasped. “Me, unprofessional? You don’t
know
me.” She shook her head and kept walking, but Ben’s strides were much longer than hers. He blocked her path.

“That’s right, we barely know each other, so I don’t have any cause to think otherwise, do I?” He crossed his arms over his chest. Dimly, Blair noted that the white T-shirt set off his dark, scruffy beard nicely. He’d trimmed it quite a bit, and she could see the hint of a strong jawline underneath.

“I don’t really care what you think,” Blair said evenly. She glanced at his tattoos again and then met his gaze. “But I suppose we do need to clear the air and set things straight before you begin work as my assistant. What do you say?”

Ben didn’t answer. For a moment, he stared at her, and then his lips broke into a slow grin. It was the same grin he’d given her in Ivy’s office yesterday, and it had worked to completely throw her off. Today, she wouldn’t be affected, not one little bit.

“You seem to be forgetting something, Blair.”

“What’s that?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Look, it’s early, but might as well get our meeting out of the way, yes?” She looked at her watch.

He ignored her question as well. “You seem to be forgetting that you’re
my
assistant, too.”

Blair stopped in her tracks. “I…”

Well, shit. She had agreed to help him with an event, hadn’t she? But she hadn’t known it was going to be a full-blown festival.

“We’ll have to discuss that some other time,” she mumbled.

He stepped forward. “Why? Because you have major plans later?”

“Of course I do,” she said, lifting her chin. She had nothing, other than unpacking more stuff at Lola’s, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Fine. Why don’t we start with the grand tour of Celebration,” Ben said. “That will give you plenty of time to figure out an explanation.”

“For what?” She began walking again.

“For why you keep attempting to insult me. It’s almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself that I’m not a threat to you.”

She stared at him, but he continued to smile.

“This way, Firefly.” Ben took her arm and pointed down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. “My truck’s parked behind my studio.”

Firefly?

Because of her hair, of course. Well, she wasn’t going to comment on that. Yet.

Blair looked down at where his square fingers held her elbow. She pushed them away. Maybe she should just bite the bullet and set him straight right now.

“Okay, your festival. We need to talk about moving it to another date. How is the first week of August for you?”

Ben laughed, the sound tinged with disbelief. “I thought you didn’t want to discuss it. But I can tell you right now, the first week of August I’ll be busy. Very busy. With stacks of appointments. Want to know why?” He stopped walking.

Blair stopped, too. “I’m dying to know why,” she said drily.

“Because of the success of Ink Fest, which will have taken place as scheduled. I’m pretty well disciplined, Blair. Not a bit unreliable.” He gave her a quick smile and ducked into a narrow alley between two buildings, whistling.

Blair followed him, and even though she told herself to look away, her gaze swept hungrily over his broad back and well-fitting jeans. As if he knew she was watching him, Ben lifted his arms and stretched, lacing his fingers above his head. The tattoos on his arms rippled with the motion and he let out a deep, satisfied sigh, almost a growl.
Holy crap
.

She cleared her throat. “Yes, well, I’m sorry that I insulted you. It was petty. But you really need to rethink your plans.”

He turned around in a lazy half circle—spreading his fingers on the two brick walls enclosing the alley—and looked down at her where she had stopped too near him, his eyes hooded. She stood there while his gaze searched her face, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of backing up. In fact, she took a step closer. A smile played at the corners of his firm lips. “I hardly ever rethink anything, Firefly. It’s a waste of time.”

His hands slid down the two walls until they were level with Blair’s shoulders. All she had to do was take one more step and her body would be touching his.

“I never waste time,” she said.

The seldom-used impulsive part of her brain itched to prove it to him, and before she could stop herself, she did the craziest thing. The stupidest, craziest thing.

Deliberately, she raised her hands and placed them on his hard chest. Her chin rose and as her mouth came closer and closer to his, he went completely still, except for his chest, which rose and fell under her hands. Angling her head slightly, she kissed the corner of his lips. Then the other corner. Then her lips began to move quickly over his, and without warning, his steely arms came around her back, lifting her against him.

Ben groaned into her mouth, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders. When her head began to swim, she closed her eyelids tightly and reveled in the heat of his fingers splayed around her hips. Her tongue surged forward, and Ben turned and pushed her against the rough brick wall, his mouth hot and demanding as he kissed her over and over again. A shuddering sigh escaped her mouth and slowly, he pulled away, cupping her face with one hand. The other was tangled in her hair, which had come loose from its clip.

“Damn,” he said in a hoarse whisper, his eyes searching hers. “What are you thinking?”

She stared back, fully aware of her breasts pressed against his chest. “That I…probably shouldn’t have done that.”

He shook his head slightly. “I didn’t ask what you were
rethinking
. I asked what you’re thinking right now.” He swallowed and ran a thumb over her tingling lower lip.

Her mind was a complete blank, the horror beginning to creep in, but not yet taking form. “I think…that I can’t think right now.”

“Me either,” Ben said. He pushed away from the wall and smoothed her hair. “Which is probably for the best.”

Blair nodded. “On that, we can agree.” With shaking fingers, she plucked the clip from where it dangled near the ends of her hair. She shoved it in her purse, straightened her belt, and glanced up to discover that Ben was halfway down the alley, and for a split second, she wanted to run after him. But she didn’t, because reasonable, logical Blair, the one who wouldn’t
ever
consider throwing herself at a hot guy in an alley, took over.