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“Famous in the tattoo world. He’s like a super-star or something. Cr
ystal told me he was contacted by some network producers trying to work a deal for a show about him. That channel that does the biographies of interesting up-and-coming people did a piece on him. He’s supposed to be really good. He’s even got a coffee-table book out with photographs of some of his best work. And I think there’s a line of prints you can buy, too.”
“Hmm. Sounds cool. Now if we only knew his name.” Shannon gave Angel a look.
“I’m thinking. I’m thinking.”
“Think faster.”
“He’s Irish, I remember that.” Angel snapped her fingers. “Oh…what’s the name of that famous Irish Whiskey?”
Shannon frowned. “Jameson?”
“That’s it! Jameson. Jameson O’something.”
Shannon huffed out a breath, her hands landing on her hips. “O’something?”
“Arg. I can’t think of it. But, it’s him and his three brothers. I remember Crystal telling me that much. Wait. That’s it.”
“What’s it?”
“Him and his brothers…that’s the name of the place, Brothers Ink.”
Shannon rolled her eyes and looked the number up on her phone.
CHAPTER SIX
Crystal stood at the reception counter in the tattoo shop she worked at. She’d been there three months, and the place was starting to feel like home. Maybe not in the same way that the clubhouse had, but she had to put that behind her and stop thinking about it.
The shop was a two story brick building on Main Street in Grand Junction. The building itself dated from the turn of the century, but it had been gutted down to the gleaming wood floors and exposed brick walls and totally remodeled, but still leaving that old character that fit so well in the Colorado town. A huge chrome sculpture of a buffalo sat in the entrance.
The shop belonged to a man named, Jameson O’Rourke and his three brothers, Max, Liam and Rory, hence the name, Brothers Ink. They were all extremely talented, but Jameson was the star. He was a very gifted, brilliant artist. A real star at what he did. This shop was where he’d gotten his start, but now there was talk of him moving to L.A. or some other place for bigger and better things.
Crystal had been hired to work the reception desk. She stood staring out the large front window, her fingers drumming on the counter. The three inches of beaded bracelets that stacked up her wrists clicking against the Formica, restlessness rumbling inside her. Her birthday was coming this weekend, and she missed her friends. She missed them terribly. Trying to start a new life in a new city where she knew no one, was hard. Sometimes she questioned the insanity of the decision. When she’d left San Jose, she’d just driven, just gotten in her car and driven until she’d found herself in this town. She’d liked the rustic look of the place and stayed a few days, trying to decide what to do with her life, how to start over, even questioning her decision to leave at all. There were so many times on the drive that she’d felt like turning the car around.
Her thoughts took her back to Wolf. She remembered a birthday she’d had when she’d first started working the bar at the clubhouse. She’d been alone one afternoon, setting up for another Friday night, when Wolf had come in and taken a seat at the end of the bar. She’d looked over and smiled.
“Hey, Wolf. Can I get you a beer?”
He’d nodded.
When she’d brought it over to him, he’d had a cupcake sitting in front of him. She’d frowned at him, eyeing it as she’d slid the beer on the bar. He’d given her a sly grin as he’d stuck a candle in it and pulled a lighter from his pocket and flicked it. His eyes connected with hers as he brought the flame to the candle and lit it. Then he’d pushed the cupcake toward her.
“Happy Birthday, Crystal.”
She’d sucked her lips in and felt her eyes start to sting with tears. No one at the club knew it was her birthday. And she’d meant to keep it that way, letting it pass quietly. But then she’d stared down at that cupcake, and she’d realized how nice it was when someone knew, when someone cared enough to do something like that to let you know you mattered. She’d whispered, “How did you know?”
He’d winked at her. “I have my ways.”
She’d frowned at him.
He’d shrugged. “I do security setups. I run backgrounds on every potential prospect… and every employee.” He’d waggled his brows. “I know everything about you, babe. Down to your bra size.”
She’d stared at him, and then a smile had broken out on her face. “Oh, really?”
He’d grinned. “Really, babe. Now you gonna make a wish and blow out your candle?”
The phone rang in the tattoo shop, shaking her from her memories.
