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He looked at me and I held his gaze, hoping he’d bought my story. Finally, he said, “It’s a prison tattoo. For someone who’s done real time.”
“Oh,” I said quietly.
Now I remember.
“Thanks,” I said, plastering a fake smile on my face.
He examined me and looked like he was going to say something else, but at the last minute, all he did was nod. “Glad I could help.”
“I better get back out there,” I said. “Before the next rush.”
Roman went out of the office first and I locked up behind him. I needed a minute to get my head around what he’d said, so I went to the storeroom to grab a few bottles of liquor I knew we’d need later on.
I made it back onto the floor just as the trickle of customers turned into a flood.
“Thought you got lost,” Annabella said.
“Nah. I just realized we’d probably need a resupply for what’s coming.” I set the bottles down, out of the way of foot traffic behind the bar.
“Good thinking,” she said.
I glanced at Viper as he sat in the corner and when he saw me, I forced a smile. The rush came shortly after, obliterating all my questions about Viper and his past.
* * *
I straddled Viper and ran my fingers across his tattoo. His arms were folded beneath his head as he peered at me, his eyes heavy. His cheeks were still flushed with color, but his heartbeat was already back to normal.
“I think I want one of these,” I murmured.
“Yeah?”
I nodded.
“Any idea what you want?”
“Something that has some meaning,” I said. “Maybe a butterfly on my hip.”
He cracked a grin. “Your hip, huh? Sure you don’t want a tramp stamp?”
“Evil.” I tickled his ribs to see if it made him squirm. He didn’t budge. “Not ticklish?”
“Not my ribs.”
I raised my brows. “But somewhere else?”
“If I tell you, you have to promise never to use it against me.”
“I promise.”
“Back of my knees.”
“No kidding.”
“I swear.”
“How random.” I continued tracing his ink. “Do your tattoos have meaning?”
“Yes.”
