Rome (Marked Men, #3)(12)

“I don’t know, Half-Pint, something tells me reining you in is probably a pretty good time.”

I felt my next words die in my throat, and it occurred to me that I was openly flirting with a guy I had poured beer all over only a couple of days ago. Not to mention he totally wasn’t my type and so far from what my idea of what the perfect match for me was that it was laughable.

I jerked my attention back to Rule’s client, who was still waiting to pay for the peacock design he had inked along her rib cage. She was watching me with what I could only describe as envy, so I coughed a little and tried to get back down to business. It bugged me that while I ran her credit card and went over the after-care instructions with her, my gaze kept wandering to the big panes of glass that faced Colfax and the Capitol Hill area of downtown Denver. Rome had his back to the glass and I could see Rule gesturing with his hands, and he had a look on his face that was intense and serious. It looked like this was a confrontation the boys needed to have a long time ago.

“Here ya go.” I handed her the slip to sign and wasn’t surprised when she not only tipped 35 percent but also jotted her phone number down on the back of the slip. I would have given her a reproachful look or made some kind of snarky comment about it but she beat me to the punch.

With a shrug she tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave me a rueful grin.

“You have the best view in all of Denver in this shop, and every time I come back it gets better. I saw his girl’s name tattooed across his knuckles on his hand. If he won’t take my number, give it to the big guy, I’m not picky and he looks like he could use a good time.”

She swept out of the shop leaving me feeling a mixture of irritation and something else I wasn’t sure of. It felt slimy and slippery and I didn’t like whatever it was at all. I was possessive over my guys, that much was true, but Rome wasn’t one of them, so I couldn’t justify why the girl wanting him to have her number made me want to pull out her hair strand by strand.

Rome and Rule were still going at it when his next client showed up, so I set the guy up and had him fill out all his paperwork and stuff so that all Rule had to do was put the transfer on and do the tattoo. When I got back to the desk, Nash was sending his client on his way and had taken over my seat. He was watching me steadily out of those eyes that were way more lilac than blue. I crossed my arms over my chest, propped a hip on the desk, and met him look for look.

“What?”

He rubbed his thumb along the corner of his mouth and blew out a breath. “I need a smoke.”

“I thought you were trying to quit.”

“‘Trying’ is the operative word in that sentence.”

“Try chewing gum or something.”

He grunted and arched back in the chair, lacing his fingers together behind his tattooed head. Nash was a really handsome guy, it just took a minute to notice it under that shockingly tattooed scalp and the tiny ring hooked through the center of his nose.

“Don’t even try and go there with Rome, Cora.”

I tried to keep my eye from twitching and my mouth from frowning. I had known Nash for a long time and there was no way I could pretend not to know what he was talking about.

“You all say he’s a wonderful guy. Why wouldn’t you want me to try and help get him back for you?”

“Because not everyone in the world needs your kind of help. Rome will find his way, we all believe that, and I was talking about the goo-goo eyes you two were just making at each other. That isn’t something I think either of you needs to try and mess with.”

I didn’t like anyone trying to tell me what to do, even if I knew Nash was just looking out for my ultimate best interests.

“It’s not like I’m Captain America’s type anyway. Don’t worry.” I pushed the edge of the chair with my foot, making him twist away from me. “Besides, you know I’m holding out for Mr. Perfect and that guy is so far from it there isn’t a bridge on this planet that could get him from here to there.”

He planted his Vans-clad feet on the ground and pushed up so that he was standing in front of me. He bent down so that we were nose to nose and I couldn’t look away from those intense, pretty-colored eyes.

“There is no Mr. Perfect, Tink. You made him laugh, whatever that means. I haven’t heard him laugh one single time since he got back into town. Just watch yourself because no one county can have two rulers and neither one of you likes to give up control.”

I wanted to laugh it off, to brush off his warning as unwarranted and silly, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that Rome Archer was enigmatic and that I found him more interesting than anyone I had encountered in a long time. Not to mention I really did want to see what he looked like without his shirt on, which was something because my libido had been missing in action for longer than I cared to admit … Ack, it all had the makings of something that was indeed bound to get complicated and messy if I didn’t put a lid on it quick.

I sat back down just as Rule came back in the door. He didn’t look overly upset, but he didn’t exactly look very happy either. I was going to ask him if he was okay, but he waved me off and muttered that he didn’t want to keep his client waiting any longer than he already had. Since that was a valid brush-off, I let it slide and went back about the business of keeping the shop running.

I know it was often hard to believe, given my big mouth and unusual appearance, but I had a killer mind for business and was really only a few college courses away from finishing out a full-fledged MBA. My dad and I had a difficult and convoluted relationship, but I always wanted him to be proud of me, and he had given me every tool and every opportunity to be the best me I could be. It had just been him and me for as long as I could remember. My mom had decided having a baby and being married to a guy who was deployed all the time was no fun, so I bounced from naval base to naval base and spent ungodly amounts of time with a series of nannies, distant relatives, and eventually Dad’s girlfriends or live-in lady friends until I met Jimmy when I was seventeen and promptly decided he was my whole world.