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“You’re the first woman I’ve ever had at my house, you bet your sweet ass I did,” I chuckle. “I’ve been stupid, and I want to spend more time with you.”

“Our schedules haven’t aligned,” she protests.

“So I’ll make time. Can I fill your water up?”

She pulls her bottle out, and I pop the top and fill it for her. I can smell salt in it, which reminds me of the conversation we had as I took her home. Damn. No wonder she has the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“Your son mentioned his grandfather. I didn’t know he lived here.”

“They commute,” she says, amused as she watches me fix the top on her cup. “Emil worries about me. I don’t think any of my family can help it.”

“Worries how?” I ask, adding her cup to my tray and helping her hop down. I pick up the tray, wait for her to loop her hand over my arm, and walk outside with her.

“Oye. My mothers call me every morning to tell me they love me at different times, and my dads check in through the group chat. My sisters want to know if I’m eating enough tacos because it’s my favorite food, but my grandfather worries about my health, safety, and whether or not I’m enjoying life enough.”

“I see,” I say, hiding a smile. “And your son seems to be well versed in communicating with him?”

“Voice to text is a very dangerous tool,” she giggles. “Your backyard is really pretty.”

“It’s not too bad for a place with no character,” I shrug. “Townhomes have a million rules, but there’s a fence and privacy. It’s enough for now.”

I can have sex on this blanket with you and no one could see. Fuck. Down boy. Please.

I can feel my cock swell with excitement, but I ignore it as I carefully put the tray on the blanket and watch as she gracefully drops to her knees. The last of the sun’s rays are disappearing from the sky, and I light the candles as I open the cider and pour it into the glasses.

“I can understand that,” she says slowly. “My grandfather says that eventually, you outgrow what worked perfectly well for you before.”

“He’s a smart man. Why did you move away from people who adore you?”

“It wasn’t safe to stay,” is all she says with a delicate shrug.

I get the feeling it’s time to change the subject.

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

NOOR

Talking to Arran is too easy. I can’t spill my secrets to him and fuck up my life. I don’t know him well enough to give him that.

Instead, I push questions at him, listening as he tells me about how he got into this format of art.

“I haven’t always sat on the right side of the law,” he says with a wince. “It wasn’t enough to get caught, but I ended up getting apprenticed by an MC club’s tattoo artist. He saw me drawing while hanging out with Magnus and offered me a different path. I was very close to becoming a prospect because I didn’t know what else to do with my life.”

I bob my head as I listen, taking a bite of the delicious food he prepared. He even sliced up bread I can eat.

“When you’re lost, people drift. I get it.”

My version of lost was a little different than his, but it all leads to shit decisions.

“How did you end up here?” I ask.

“I started tattooing at motorcycle rallies and expos. They were walk up events, and I made decent money by having premade options set up. When the event was slow, I’d open things up to people looking to get ink and used their inspo photos to make a stencil.”

“Sounds nomadic,” I murmur. “Was it just California?”

“To begin with, and then I started getting invitations to do other things. I’ve done a few comic shows, book conventions, and other things. I wanted as much experience as possible, and I needed a nest egg for when I could get a permanent place up and running.”