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“I like his muscles,” Lydia protested. “Don’t listen to him, Jackson.”
Clay chuckled. “I like her. Where did you two meet again?”
“I picked her up at the airport,” Jackson told him, his gaze dark as it slid over her.
Lydia bit down a smile. “He’s a friend of my future brother-in-law.”
“The whaleboat captain?” Clay asked, lifting a brow. “The big guy, right?”
“That’s Griff.” Lydia nodded. “And he wasn’t too happy about us getting together. Nor was Jackson. It took all of my womanly wiles to persuade him I was worth it.”
“You are worth it.” Jackson’s voice was low. “Completely.”
His words stole her breath away. “So are you.”
“You guys are so damn sweet I’m going to need a dentist,” Clay complained with a laugh. “Where are you from, Lydia? Do you live in Angel Sands?”
She shook her head. “I’m just visiting. I’m not really from anywhere. I travel a lot. I guess if you pushed me, I’d say New York, but that doesn’t really feel like home anymore.”
“What do you do that you travel so much?” Clay questioned her, lifting the needle and glancing her way.
“I’m a travel consultant. I arrange personalized trips and accompany the travelers around various countries.”
“That’s seriously cool. Where are you going next?”
“Spain. Then to France and Italy.” The thought made her stomach contract. “After that, I’m heading to South America.”
Clay’s eyes widened. “Whoa. You weren’t kidding. That’s a lot of traveling. Do you like it? You must like it, right? You wouldn’t do it otherwise.”
“I don’t know how to do anything else,” she admitted. “I’m really good at finding places nobody else knows about, and I enjoy getting to know my clients and discovering what they’re looking for. I’m not sure I’d be cut out for any other job.”
He glanced at Jackson. “So what, you guys gonna do the long distance thing or something?”
Lydia froze for a moment. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Jackson. Didn’t want to see the truth in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, she plastered a smile on her lips. “I think we’re going to be great friends,” she told him. Pulling her lip between her teeth, she looked down at the red folder on her lap. “I guess I should get to choosing my tattoo, right?”
“Yeah, I’ve got about twenty minutes left on this one, then it’s over to you,” Clay said, using his foot to move his chair to give him a better angle.
Lydia nodded, but didn’t look up, flipping through the plastic sleeves until she saw exactly what she was looking for.
Great friends. That was enough. It had
to be, because he wasn’t offering anything else. Even if he was, it wouldn’t work because their lifestyles were totally incompatible.
All she knew was that getting on that plane was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever done.
“You want to stop for coffee?” he asked, as they headed back to Angel Sands. Lydia twisted in her seat to rub her fingers along the back of her hip. Jackson tried not to look. The memory of her lying face down on the tattoo chair with her back exposed as Clay meticulously traced her design was hot enough. He didn’t need to see the real thing as well.
Not if he wanted to keep this car on the road.
“Coffee would be good,” she agreed, her brow creasing as she rubbed again.
“Try not to scratch it. Remember what Clay said?”
“Yeah, but it’s itchy.” Her pout was damn adorable. “Now I know how Eddie felt whenever he tried to scratch his face with a paw.”
His chest tightened at the mention of Eddie. Or Simba, as he should probably think of him now. Leaving the house shortly after the dog did had been the right thing to do, and a great idea to head to Clay’s tattoo parlor. It had taken both of their minds off the emptiness of the kitchen, and the fact they wouldn’t see the dog again.
For a while, it had even made him forget about Lydia’s impending departure. Even if he’d always have the memory of her tattooed on his skin. He’d lied through his teeth when he’d told her he’d chosen a compass because it was cool. The truth was, he’d chosen it as a reminder of her. That she was always traveling, and wherever she was, north, south, east, or west, the compass would be pointing toward her.
