Ink Enduring (Montgomery Ink #5)(78)

He loved being a Montgomery.

The sound of Sloane’s needle buzzing as he sang whatever tune played in his head made Austin grin.

And he f*cking loved his shop.

Every bare brick and block of polished wood, every splash of black and hot pink—colors he and Maya had fought on and he’d eventually given in to—made him feel at home. He’d taken the family crest and symbol, the large MI surrounded by a broken floral circle, and used it as their logo. His brothers, Storm and Wes, owned Montgomery Inc., a family construction company that their father had once owned and where their mother had worked at his side before they’d retired. They, too, used the same logo since it meant family to them.

In fact, the MI was tattooed on every single immediate family member—including his parents. His own was on his right forearm tangled in the rest of his sleeve but given a place of meaning. It meant Montgomery Iris—open your eyes, see the beauty, remember who you are. It was only natural to use it for their two respective companies.

Not that the Ink vs Inc. wasn’t confusing as hell, but f*ck, they were Montgomerys. They could do whatever they wanted. As long as they were together, they’d get through it.

Montgomery Ink was just as much his home as his house on the ravine. While Shep had gone on to work at Midnight Ink and created another family there, Austin had always wanted to own his shop. Maya growing up to want to do the same thing had only helped.

Montgomery Ink was now a thriving business in downtown Denver right off 16th Street Mall. They were near parking, food, and coffee. There really wasn’t more he needed. The drive in most mornings could suck once he got on I-25, but it was worth it to live out in Arvada. The ’burbs around Denver made it easy to live in one area of the city and work in another. Commutes, though hellish at rush hour, weren’t as bad as some. This way he got the city living when it came to work and play, and the option to hide behind the trees pressed up against the foothills of the Rocky Mountains once he got home.

It was the best of both worlds.

At least for him.

Austin got back on his stool and concentrated on Rick’s sleeve for another hour before calling it quits. He needed a break for his lower back, and Rick needed a break from the pain. Not that Rick was feeling much since the man currently looked like he’d just gotten laid—pain freaks, Austin loved them—but he didn’t want to push either of them too far. Also, Plus Rick’s arm had started to swell slightly from all the shading and multiple colors. They’d do another session, the last, hopefully, in a month or so when both of them could work it in their schedules and then finish up.

Austin scowled at the computer at the front of shop, his fingers too big for the damn keys on the prissy computer Maya had demanded they buy.

“Fuck!”

He’d just deleted Rick’s whole account because he couldn’t find the right button.

“Maya, get your ass over here and fix this. I don’t know what the hell I did.”

Maya lifted one pierced brow as she worked on a lower back tattoo for some teenage girl who didn’t look old enough to get ink in the first place.

“I’m busy, Austin. You’re not an idiot, though evidence at the moment points to the contrary. Fix it yourself. I can’t help it if you have ape hands.”

Austin flipped her off then took a sip of his Coke, wishing he had something stronger considering he hated paperwork. “I was fine with the old keyboard and the PC, Maya. You’re the one who wanted to go with the Mac because it looked pretty.”

“Fuck you, Austin. I wanted a Mac because I like the software.”

Austin snorted while trying to figure out how to find Rick’s file. He was pretty sure it was a lost cause at this point. “You hate the software as much as I do. You hit the damn red X and close out files more than I do. Everything’s in the wrong place, and the keyboard is way too f*cking dainty.”

“I’m going to go with Austin on this one,” Sloane added in, his beefy hands in the air.

“See? I’m not alone.”

Maya let out a breath. “We can get another keyboard for you and Gigantor’s hands, but we need to keep the Mac.”

“And why is that?” he demanded.

“Because we just spent a whole lot of money on it, and once it goes, we can get another PC. Fuck the idea that everything can be all in one. I can’t figure it out either.” She held up a hand. “And don’t even think about breaking it. I’ll know, Austin. I always know.”

Austin held back a grin. He wouldn’t be surprised if the computer met with an earlier than expected unfortunate fate now that Maya had relented.

Right then, however, that idea didn’t help. He needed to find Rick’s file.

“Callie!” Austin yelled over the buzz of needles and soft music Maya had allowed them to play.

“What?” His apprentice came out of the break room, a sketchbook in one hand and a smirk on her face. She’d dyed her hair again so it had black and red highlights. It looked good on her, but honestly, he never knew what color she’d have next. “Break something on the computer again with those big man hands?”

“Shut up, minion,” he teased. Callie was an up-and-coming artist, and if she kept on the track she was on, he and Maya knew she’d be getting her own chair at Montgomery Ink soon. Not that he’d tell Callie that, though. He liked keeping her on her toes. She reminded him of his little sister Miranda so much that he couldn’t help but treat her as such.