Written in Ink (Montgomery Ink #4)(44)

“Thank you,” he said in lieu of answering. He leaned over the counter and kissed her cheek before leaving a twenty on the marble. “Keep it, Hailey. You need to pay your bills.”

She rolled her eyes then froze. Griffin frowned and turned to the door that connected Taboo to Montgomery Ink. Sloane stood in the doorway, his massive arms crossed over his chest. His jaw was so damn tight, Griffin was afraid the man might lose a filling.

“Sloane.” He tilted his head at the other man and did his best to convey that he wasn’t poaching on Sloane’s territory. Hard to do, when Hailey was right there, staring at the both of them and technically not with the other man. Plus, she was her own woman, and calling dibs on women tended to lead to black eyes for the dude involved.

“Montgomery,” the other man growled. Damn. Griffin wasn’t a small guy—none of the Montgomerys were—but Sloane was big.

Griffin didn’t look at Hailey again. He’d already said his thanks, and he honestly didn’t want to risk another broken bone. His hand ached like a bitch as it healed, and he figured Sloane could do more damage than a car.

Sloane studied him another moment then turned to the side, letting Griffin pass silently. Griffin let out a breath as he made his way into the tattoo shop and met Austin’s eyes. His big brother snorted and shook his head.

“You mess with Hailey again?” Austin asked.

He had one hand on his sketchbook, the other twirling his pencil. The shop wasn’t that busy, and Griffin figured it had to be the lull before the storm. The shop’s artists—Austin and Maya in particular—were booked for the next couple of years with big projects, and usually had people in and out for the little ones besides. Callie bounced from foot to foot as she worked at the computer, and Maya had her head down, her focus on her sketchbook, as well. Just because they weren’t laying ink, didn’t mean they weren’t working. A lot of prep went into a tattoo when it was larger than a postage stamp, and his siblings—as well as those they hired—were the f*cking best at what they did. Hence why Griffin’s body had so many tattoos to begin with.

“I said thanks for the coffee.” He took a sip and moaned. “Dear God, she’s a goddess.”

Sloane pushed past him and almost knocked the cup from his hand.

Austin gave Griffin a look that said, “You’re a f*cking dumbass,” but had the grace not to say it.

Sloane closed the office door and Austin snorted. “You’re a f*cking dumbass, Griffin.”

So Austin didn’t have said grace. Whatever.

“You here for a reason, or are you hiding from Autumn?” Maya asked, her attention on her book rather than him.

“I don’t hide from anyone,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Sure, honey,” Maya said with a smile. “I’m working on a sketch for Autumn right now, actually. You want to see it? I’m sure you could imagine the exact place on her body we’re going to put it.”

He closed his eyes and refused to look at the drawing. His cock ached, and he knew he had a hard-on in the middle of a f*cking tattoo shop because he couldn’t stop thinking about Autumn. His sister loved teasing him, but damn it, he didn’t want to deal with this.

Instead, he turned on his heel, headed back into Taboo with the laughter rolling behind him, set his cup on the counter, and left the building. He’d go home and write. Or maybe jerk off. He didn’t know.

But he couldn’t deal with whatever the f*ck was going on with him right then. Not when he had no idea what it was, and his siblings were having way too much fun razzing him for being with Autumn. He may not have mentioned he was with her, might not have truly been with her in public other than holding each other at his parents’ home after his father had given them all the good news, but everyone knew there was something going on between them.

Griffin didn’t know what that was, however.

And he was going to have to do his damndest to keep that something casual.

No strings, she’d said.

He could do no strings.

Even if it killed him.





Chapter Thirteen


Autumn adjusted her non-prescription glasses with the clear lenses on the bridge of her nose and held back a grin. Griffin had been in a mood all day, and she was tired of it. She’d shown up that morning and had gotten right to work. He’d spoken of car chases and explosions, all the while staying true to the characters and the emotions deep within. He would lie on his thinking chair or pace around the room, trying to voice the thoughts in his head, and she would type them as fast as he spoke. They’d gotten their word count in, and now she was going to have a bit of fun. He needed fun. Even if he hadn’t been writing as much as he should have been before she’d shown up, it hadn’t been fun for him. She could see the strain in his eyes when he looked at the date, but knew there was hope mixing in, as well. They were getting closer and closer to the end, and she couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

She paused.

The end of the book.

Not the end of it all.

The end of them…whatever they were.

Of course, that was true wasn’t it?

She pushed those thoughts from her brain and adjusted her glasses one more time. It could be a tremendous mistake to do what she was about to do, but she wanted to try it.