All For You (Rocktown Ink #5), page 3
“Sure you did. You need anything else or are we done here?”
I gritted my teeth. No wonder his wife divorced his ass. And I’d be warning off anyone who even contemplated going out with this guy. He’s short with a paunch, remember? And if not, the women of Rocktown were definitely safe, his personality would see to that. “Sure, we’re done. There’s just the light fixture and a final coat of paint needed in the bathroom and everything will be finished.” Be the bigger person. I forced myself to swallow the attitude. It wasn’t easy. I was proud of what I did here, and despite him being a jerk, I didn’t want there to be awkwardness when we met, for Quinn’s sake, if nothing else. “And again, I’m sorry for not showing yesterday. For what it’s worth, I think you’ll love the house. The place has this whole warm but masculine vibe.”
Silence.
“Mase?”
He cleared his throat. “Good. Thanks. I need to go.”
He sounded weird. Weirder than usual. “You okay?”
“Yep, just had a fucking shit of a day.”
As much as I didn’t want to cut him some slack, I got it. I’d had more than my fair share of shitty days as well. “I’m sorry. I hope tomorrow’s a better one.”
“I doubt it.”
No one could say I hadn’t tried. “Okaaay, well, I guess I’ll see you in…”
He’d already hung up.
I scowled at my phone. So freaking rude.
Once this job was done, it was no more Miss Nice Gal. I could be professional when I needed to be. My clientele at Rocktown Ink was varied, and temperaments were mixed to say the least. But I’d never dealt with anyone as difficult as Mason Parker. If he wasn’t Quinn’s brother and going through a rough divorce, I would have told him where to shove it a long time ago. He was going through some stuff, I understood that. But there was no excuse for being that much of a prick.
I wasn’t some professional interior decorator he’d picked out of an ad, I was his sister’s friend. This was just a side hustle for me to earn some extra cash, and there was only so much I’d put up with. My gran didn’t raise me to take shit, not from anyone, and I wasn’t planning on starting now.
If Mase so much as looked at me the wrong way when he moved in, he was in for an unpleasant surprise.
And if I had to find somewhere else to park my trailer while I saved for my own bit of land, so be it.
Chapter Three
Mase
Three weeks later
I jogged toward the house, trying to focus on the burn and pull of muscles.
Though, I don’t know why I thought this would be any different, several rounds at Angus’s gym hadn’t worked. I wasn’t sure why I assumed running myself to death would clear my head.
Slowing, I planted my hands on my hips and paced up and down the driveway, cooling off. I’d been back in Rocktown for two days, and it was like I’d never left. Yeah, it was fucking good to be home. The city had never been the place for me. The noise and the traffic made me feel hemmed in. Janie loved it and wouldn’t even consider moving here.
I’d left for her, to be with her, but I’d always felt like a fish out of water. And I’d spent so much time working, my wife had ended up alone more often than she was with me.
In the end, she’d fallen out of love with me—her words—and she’d left. She’d moved on.
The paperwork was signed a month ago, but we’d been living apart just over a year. And yeah, it still stung, had damn near sent me over the edge at the time, but I was moving on as well. Or fucking trying.
But being back in Rocktown reminded me of the things I’d left behind when I went away. Of how quick I’d been to walk away from the people I loved, the town I’d never wanted to leave, to give Janie everything she wanted. That wasn’t her fault, it was mine, and I’d never make that mistake again.
The truth was, we’d both fucked up, and we’d hurt each other in the process.
I shoved my fingers through my sweaty hair. Thinking about Janie was the last thing I should be doing.
A low growl came from the backyard—
I turned to a pair of round dark eyes watching me over the gate.
A dog, with a boxy head and floppy ears.
I squinted at the mutt. “Jesus Christ.”
The dog barked, then whined, and I glanced over at the trailer parked behind the house. A dim light was on inside the vintage Airstream. Trixie had been away at a tattoo convention the day I arrived, so I still hadn’t actually met her in person. Quinn had been looking after the dog, and the fact that he was now occupying my yard probably meant Trixie was back. I eyed the dog again. It didn’t look all that fierce, fucking odd looking with its long lean legs and body and that big head, but not vicious.
Still, you never knew.
I pulled out my phone and quickly sent Trixie a text.
Mase: You home?
I glanced at the trailer again for any sign of movement. Nothing. My phone beeped.
Trixie: Nope. Is Jimmy Chew giving you trouble?
I glanced at the dog. “Are you Jimmy Chew?” The dog’s ears pricked up, and he barked. Christ. What kind of name was that?
Mase: The dog’s fine. Unless he bites. Wanted to talk about the house. Tomorrow?
I unlocked the front door, and I headed inside, flicking on the lights as I went. The place had never looked so good.
I’d been an unreasonable asshole to this girl on several occasions. Yes, she was opinionated and difficult, and snarky as hell, but she didn’t deserve the shit I’d given her, no matter how much of a pain in the ass she was. I’d taken my divorce crap out on everyone, including her.
Trixie had managed to transform my tired family home into a place that looked pretty fucking cool. Somehow, without even knowing me, she’d gotten it so damn right. I headed upstairs to my room, flicked on the light, and strode into the en suite.
Peeling off my sweaty shorts, I turned on the shower. Yeah, I owed Trixie my thanks and a big fucking apology. My phone beeped again.
Trixie: Busy all day and I have a late client. Sorry. And Jimmy would never bite.
Okay, then. Not tomorrow.
Putting down my phone, I climbed in the shower and quickly lathered up. And as soon as I closed my eyes, rinsing off, she popped into my head. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the woman I’d spent the night with three weeks ago. I’d never met anyone like her. I sure as hell hadn’t planned on sleeping with her. Yes, I’d wanted her beyond all reason, but I’d resisted—until she rested her hand on my forearm, looked up at me with wide eyes, and asked if I had a room nearby.
All my tightly held control had crumpled at my feet instantly.
But when I woke the next morning, she was gone. Christ, I’d run from the room down to the bar, but the lot had been empty. Her car gone. I was still pissed off about it. Since Janie left, I hadn’t been with anyone else. I’d tried, gone on a few dates, but I hadn’t been into it. Dating was the last thing I’d wanted to be doing.
No one had got me excited enough to even consider it. And I definitely wasn’t interested in another serious relationship.
But that night with her had been the best fucking night I’d ever had. Having that beautiful girl under me, riding me—my stomach muscles clenched—asking me to hold her down while I fucked her? I growled. She was the best I’d ever had, and I hadn’t wanted it to end. I’d wanted more.
Shit, just talking to her had lit me up. She’d made me laugh until my face ached, had made me so fucking hard I could barely think straight. And I didn’t even know her goddamn name.
I climbed out of the shower, dried off, and got into bed. Taking my wallet from the bedside table, I pulled out the note she’d left me, scanning it like I had more times than I cared to think about.
* * *
Thanks for getting me through one of the shittiest days of my life.
Not sure I’ll ever forget you.
Your kitten xxx
* * *
Every fucking word of it tormented me. What had I gotten her through? That beautiful, sweet, funny girl had been hurting and I’d had no clue, is that what it meant? What else could it be? Shoving my fingers through my hair, I stared at the ceiling. How the hell was I going to find her? I was a sheriff, and though using resources to search for her was wrong in every way, if I had something, fucking anything to go off, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to resist.
I didn’t have a name or even a town. She’d simply been passing through.
The only thing I had to go off was the car, and I didn’t even have a license plate. A green Ford Mustang, probably a ’66 or ’67, but it’d been dark, and I hadn’t gotten a good look.
I rubbed at the ache behind my ribs. It was fucking hopeless.
Not sure I’ll ever forget you either, kitten.
The next night when I got back from my run, the lights in the trailer were off, the place completely dark. Jimmy came to greet me again, and I gave the mutt a quick pat, then headed inside.
I was in bed an hour later when the low rumble of a car pulling up outside reached me, followed by a muffled voice greeting the dog. I got out of bed and walked to the window just as Trixie walked into her trailer. All I saw was a flash of bright color and the dog’s butt as he followed his master inside.
It was late, my best bet was to catch her in the morning. But honestly, I was starting to think Trixie was avoiding me.
The next morning, Jimmy greeted me as I knocked on the trailer door and got nothing. The girl and her car, were already gone. Muttering a few curses, I pulled out my phone and tried her number, it rang three times and went to voice mail. Was she screening my calls now as well? Besides that one time, when I’d come home for the weekend and she’d not showed, she’d always answered my calls.
“Fuck it.” I tapped out a text.
Mase: You avoiding me?
The reply came a minute later. Yep, she was totally screening my calls.
Trixie: You got a problem with the house?
I tried calling again. Texting was fucking annoying.
The phone clicked, followed by a long sigh. “Mase, I’m at work, you have a problem, leave me a message.”
“I don’t have a problem.”
“Then stop stalking me, dude. You’re happy with the house, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Cool. Job’s done, I’ve been paid, so let’s just move the hell on.”
I yanked my car door open. “We live on the same property.”
“You want rent, I’ll pay it. If you have a problem with the dog, you’ll have to suck it up until I find somewhere else to live. Quinn said it was fine for us to be there. You can’t just kick us out without notice.”
What the hell was going on? I was this close to banging my head on the fucking roof of my car. “First, your dog, weird looking as he is, is fine—”
“Weird looking? Are you saying my dog’s ugly?”
Shit. Why the hell had I said that? “No.”
“So you want rent? I have no problem paying my way.”
Her voice had risen an octave. She was pissed off. “No…look, let’s just…”
“Awesome. Then what else is there to talk about? You made it crystal clear you disliked me, repeatedly. Now you hate my dog as well. So let’s just remain ships in the night, yeah? I’ll look the other way if I see you, and you pretend I don’t exist if you see me. Me and my ugly dog will be out of your hair before you know it.”
Was she serious? “You wanna let me get a fucking word in?”
“Nope, wasn’t planning on it. The job’s over, butt munch, I don’t need to be pleasant to you anymore. And I have no time for people who hate dogs. Who hates dogs? Sickos and weirdos, that’s who. Honestly, you are the rudest, most arrogant bastard I’ve ever had to deal with. And if you’d heard some of the shit people have said to me, you would know how much of a dick that really makes you. I don’t know how Quinn didn’t knock you over the head and bury you in the backyard when you were children.”
“You done?”
“Yep.”
The phone went dead.
She fucking hung up on me.
“Son, women are not worth it. They’ll fuck you over every time,” Douglas said.
Douglas had lived in Rocktown his whole life. Had been a deputy here when I’d been a teenager. Which was about the same time his fiancée ran off with his best friend. He’d never gotten over it.
I sipped my coffee and let him go on. It was my own fault, I’d told him Janie had called and left a message for me. We had a few things in storage she wanted, and I hadn’t gotten around to going through any of it yet. She could have it all, or toss it, I didn’t give a shit.
“Don’t get me wrong, you need to dip your wick from time to time.”
Jesus.
“But you don’t need to be tied down to one woman for that.”
I said nothing, waiting for him to get it over with.
He tapped the side of his nose. “There’s a woman in Springhaven…I visit her every couple of weeks, doesn’t charge an arm and a leg. Pretty thing, lotsa tits and ass, knows what she’s doing, if you know what I mean.” Douglas flushed, his eyes getting beady, and he licked his lips. “Yeah, might be time to head back over there.”
Fucking hell, Douglas just admitted to visiting a prostitute regularly and, worse, talking about her had just given the old bastard a hard-on.
“You want, I can give you her number?”
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
“If you change your mind—”
The door opened with a bang, and my small and very pregnant sister stormed into the station.
Douglas took one look at her and rushed off. Wise move. Someone had riled her up, and going by the scowl aimed my way, I’d say that someone was me.
“What the hell did you say to Trix?” she fired at me.
“Not a lot.” She wouldn’t fucking let me.
Quinn planted her hands on the counter between us, unable to get too close due to her rounded belly, and thankfully keeping me out of striking distance. “You know I’m happy you’re home, bro. But if you start upsetting my friends, we’re going to have a problem.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and prayed for strength. “I called to thank her and to apologize. I know I’ve been a bit of an asshole the last few months, and the woman tore me a new one.”
“You told her you hate her dog. How can you hate Jimmy? He’s a sweetheart and you love dogs.”
I sipped my coffee. Cold. And prayed for strength. “I don’t hate her damn dog. I may have said he was weird looking…”
“Mason!”
“This girl’s given me attitude from day one.” Still, why the hell had I said that about her dog? I liked the mutt.
Maybe because you enjoy bickering with her a little too much.
Yeah, I did.
Christ, was I really that fucked in the head? Apparently.
Quinn planted her hands on her hips. “Trix is tough, she’s had to be, but she’s loyal and kind and would do anything for the people she loves. She’s been a good friend, and you know how you’ve been lately…”
“Which is why I called to apologize.”
She tossed a brown paper bag on the counter. “It’s from Addy’s cafe. You’ll love it. Not that you deserve it. And if you don’t want me to come back here and tear you a new one as well tomorrow, go and see Trix during your next break, and grovel. She’s good people, Mase. Make it right.”
I rubbed a hand down my face. This was going to seriously suck. “When does she usually stop for lunch?”
“I’ll call Riff and get him to do some snooping. With how angry she is, she’ll probably leave if she knows you’re coming.”
Jessie “Grifter/Riff” Thomas was the ex-enforcer and current sergeant at arms for the Ramblers MC, a part-time tattoo artist at Rocktown Ink, and Quinn’s friend Lila’s husband. I liked the guy, but I didn’t want him to know my business. “Excellent, I can’t wait to show up like the stalker she accused me of being and then force her to accept my apology.”
Quinn smirked, a curl of her lips that looked so much like our mom’s that it used to hurt to look at her right after she’d died. Now it warmed me.
“Are you really so scared of such a tiny little woman?”
“That tiny little woman has claws and razor-sharp teeth.”
A vision of someone else with claws filled my head. Fuck, you’re so wet, kitten. That’s it, dig those little nails in. Christ, the memory had the hair on the back of my neck lifting. I’d hated it when the scratches she’d left on my back had vanished completely.
“Yo, Mase? Helloooo. Earth to Mason.”
“Sorry, what?”
“Where did you just go? Your eyes glazed over and you got this odd look on your face.”
Shit. “You can leave now. I have work to do.”
She shook her head. “You really do need to work on that attitude. No wonder Trix wants to castrate you with a blunt object.”
I choked on another mouthful of cold coffee. “She said that?”
“Well, not in so many words.”
“Exactly what words did she use?”
Quinn smirked. “That she wanted to ‘hack off your nuts with a rusty blade.’”
“And you want me to go and see this girl?”
Quinn shrugged. “She’d just gotten off the phone with you, and you’d insulted her dog. I’m sure she’s calmed down by now.”
After the conversation we’d had?
Not fucking likely.
Chapter Four
Trixie
