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God, this man was killing me. My body tingled at the frustration in his voice. I wasn’t a stranger to men wanting me, but Colby made me feel like he wanted so much more than my body.

I nodded. “That’s probably a good idea. My mother loathes lateness.”

Colby’s brows pulled together. “Your mother?”

I grabbed my purse. “Oh, did I forget to mention that the art show is at my mother’s gallery?”

“I think you did.”

“Did I mention that I wasn’t technically a guest, but that I was exhibiting some of my work? The show is called The Edge because the artists are all supposed to be—” I made air quotes with my fingers. “—Edgy.”

“You definitely didn’t mention that either.”

“Welp, then let me wish you luck with my mother. Because you’re probably going to need it.”

***

“So, Colby. Tell me about yourself.” My mother lifted her wine to her perfectly painted red lips and sipped. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m an architect.”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful profession. It affords you an outlet for your creativity while still providing stability. I so wish I could have talked Billie into something along those lines.”

I spoke through gritted teeth. “My tattoo parlor is thriving, Mother.”

She shook her head. “Yes, but the clientele you work with—”

“Are a lot more fun than the clientele you work with.”

Mom smiled and turned her attention back to Colby. “How did you two meet? It’s such a rarity that my daughter brings anyone around. I hope you don’t mind so many questions.”

Colby was gracious. “Not at all, ask away. Billie and I met at her tattoo shop. I’m actually her landlord, and I came down to introduce myself.” He looked at me with a sparkle in his eyes. “She was throwing a little party when I walked in.”

I raised my glass of champagne to cover my smirk. “Yes, I even gave the guest of honor a special gift.”

My mother seemed oblivious to our exchange. She was too busy focusing on one word Colby had said.

“Landlord!” Her eyes lit up. “Manhattan real estate at your age? That’s impressive.”

“It’s not as exciting as it sounds,” Colby said. “I have three partners.”

“It sounds to me like you’re being modest. Half the battle is getting your life on track.” She looked over at me. “Maybe some of your levelheadedness will rub off on my daughter, and she’ll stop rebelling against me by mutilating her body with ink and hanging out with a seedy crowd.”

The muscle in Colby’s jaw flexed, and I could see his face turning red. “I doubt that. Because I believe in encouraging people to do what they love. I’ve also met some of the people she spends her time with, and there’s nothing seedy about them. They’re loyal and protective of your daughter, exactly the type of people I’d want around someone I cared about.”

My mother sighed. “She’s living a lifestyle beneath her.”

Colby shook his head. “I hope you’ll excuse me for saying so, but we’ve been here for five minutes, and you’ve insulted Billie four times. In my experience, when someone judges others because of what they look like or do for a living, it’s rarely about the person being judged. It’s about the judgmental person’s own insecurities.”

My mother blinked a few times, clearly shocked at being spoken to like that. But then she recovered and plastered on her best fake smile. “Enjoy the show. It was lovely to meet you, Carter.”

My jaw hung open as she strutted away.

Colby shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Are you kidding me? That was fucking awesome!”

“You’re not mad?”

“Mad? I could kiss you right now.”

He grinned. “You should really go with your instincts.”

I laughed. “Seriously, that was perfect, Colby. She didn’t see it coming, and you said it without raising your voice or making a scene.”

“Honestly, I’d thought you were exaggerating the few times you’ve mentioned your mother.”

“I wish.” I linked my arm with Colby’s. “But let’s try to forget about her. Come on, I see Devin, my mentor. He just walked in. I told you about him. He was the one who first got me interested in tattooing, and I apprenticed under him. I want to introduce you.”

After we spent a little time talking to Devin, I took Colby around the room to see the art. We walked the perimeter, stopping at each exhibit. As we approached my section, I felt a little nervous. Colby had seen my tattoos, but not the type of art I was showing today. I took a deep breath as we stood in front of the first painting—a nude woman lying down with her back arched. Her face was tense and muscles taut. The entire painting was done in black and white, except for a piece of bright red silk fabric strewn over her breasts.

“This is one of mine,” I said. “My mother made me rename it for the show.”

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