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“Why?” I ask, wide eyed. “I don’t think he’s done anything wrong.”

Jenna glances at Arran before coming closer and dropping her voice. “The boss doesn’t date. Ever, Isla. He works, hangs out with his friends, and goes home. This is a big deal, and the last thing he wants you to think is that he’s a workaholic. I mean, he kind of is, but this client doesn’t live in San Diego and is an old friend of Arran’s.”

“Even more reason for him to agree to do the tattoo then,” I reply.

“How are you so cool?” she mutters. “And pretty. Hell, I’m jealous of Arran now.”

My lips twitch as I blush, not used to being complimented.

“Thank you,” I murmur, watching as the subject of our conversation begins to stand. He’s six foot three, two hundred and forty pounds of pure muscle, and it’s sometimes difficult for me to talk to him because he’s so gorgeous.

I force myself to take a breath as I take in the shaved sides of his head and slicked back blonde hair, and my fingers twitch as I wonder how scratchy or soft his beard will be. I haven’t been around many men who have facial hair.

His client stands bare chested to check on the work on his skin, but my eyes remain on Arran as he begins to walk toward me. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a short sleeved t-shirt despite the cooler weather.

“You’re just in time,” he murmurs, pulling me into a hug. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I say, my face buried in his chest as I return his hug. I get affection from my kid, my family, but this is different. I hate saying I’m starved for physical affection, but I might be.

Mmm. He smells really nice. Despite smelling like tattoo ink, he also has an amber undertone that makes me want to sink deeper into his embrace. Instead, I wait until his muscles relax before stepping back and looking up at him. Damn he’s really tall.

“How did the tattoo go?” I ask, trying not to feel awkward.

“He’s a magician with an ink gun,” his client says. “I needed a cover up job and he came through.”

“If you’re planning on riding back tonight, I’m going to put gauze over it,” Arran says. “You’re too sensitive to use a second skin.”

“I break out,” the man shrugs. “I guess you’ll need to feel me up some more.”

I can’t help the unladylike snort that escapes and Arran chuckles as he walks back to his client and finishes up.

“She’s too sweet for you, Arran,” the man adds.

“I’ve been trying to get her to agree to go out with me for eight months, please don’t tell her that, Magnus.”

“Eight months? Damn,” Magnus grunts.

“I didn’t know you were asking me out,” I wince. Magnus roars with laughter while Arran’s lips twitch with amusement.

“Dude, you either suck at this or she’s way too sweet for you,” he says, pulling on his shirt once Arran is done. “What do I owe you?”

“You paid me already,” Arran says, rolling his eyes.

“I paid you a deposit,” Magnus drawls, checking his phone. “I’m not taking a friend discount on this one. I’ve been here all damn day, Arran.”

“And he was here most of yesterday,” Jenna says helpfully as Magnus pulls out his wallet.

“Ah, shit, Mag. Just pay me whatever you want. I’ve got to go,” Arran says.

“I’ll clean your station,” Jenna adds. “And I’ll close up.”

“I owe you a raise,” Arran grunts. I’m enjoying watching them, and feel this is a normal conversation as Jenna rolls her eyes.

“You pay me enough, boss.”

“This should do it.” Magnus slaps several bills down on the chair and pulls on his leather jacket as he winks at me. “Don’t let him complain about the amount too much, yeah?”

“Because it’s not enough or too much?” I ask.