Hooked (Viking Bastards MC #1)(19)
I run my palm over his bicep to distract my wayward thoughts. His ink fascinates me, but I’m completely captivated by his magnificent bald eagle. “I love your tattoos.”
He flexes his muscles and grins, as though I just paid him the world’s best compliment. “Got this one done when I made prospect. My old man had the same one, and so did his dad. Couldn’t break the tradition.”
I trace my finger over the intricate artwork. “It’s beautiful.” I’ve no idea if that’s an appropriate response, but it’s true, and Zach strokes the small of my back as though he likes my comment just fine. “I guess your dad was proud that day.”
His fingers still, and tension radiates from him. “He died six months before I got it done.”
Crap. I didn’t mean to upset him or bring back painful memories. Why did I have to spoil the mood with my unthinking words? “I’m so sorry.” I cradle his jaw, half expecting him to push me away and finish getting dressed. But he doesn’t. He just gives me a strange little smile as though he doesn’t understand what I mean.
“Not your fault. There was a screw-up with protection inside. Heads rolled for that f*ck-up.”
His life might be completely different than mine, but it isn’t hard to understand what he means. Why was his father in prison? The only other person I’ve ever known who went to jail was a former associate of my parents, and he was put away for embezzlement.
I have the feeling Zach’s father was arrested for something more…physical.
A shiver ripples over me, despite how much I try to suppress it. Zach sighs and holds me tighter, and I rest my cheek against his shoulder. It’s crazy how safe he makes me feel when I’m in his arms, because I know he’s anything but.
Yet I can’t dislodge the conviction that he’d never hurt me, no matter what. Which is another crazy thought, because how can I be so sure of somebody I barely know?
I don’t want to talk about his past. This is just a wild fling with my very own bad boy, and according to both my best friend and sister, you never get too personal on casual hookups. It makes sense, but I can’t help myself.
“Is that when you took over the family business?” It’s a shot in the dark, but not really that much of a stretch. Not with him living with his sister in the upstairs apartment.
He makes a sound of agreement, and rubs his jaw across my head. “I’d been working here full time since I was sixteen, so I knew the ropes. It was either that or lose everything when Mom died so soon after Dad.”
I wince and bite my lip. I really should’ve shut up when I had the chance. “I’m so sorry.” I sound like a parrot, but what else can I say?
He lifts my face with one finger, and I melt all over again when I look in his gorgeous, deep brown eyes. “Stop saying you’re sorry.” He sounds faintly amused. “It was ten years ago. I’m over it, all right?”
I’m not sure you could ever really get over something like that, but since I don’t have any personal experience with losing a parent I can hardly disagree with him.
“So you brought Kat up.” Suddenly her protective instinct when it comes to Zach makes more sense. He might not need it, but she sure as heck has his back. A strange, warm feeling weaves through my chest. I’m glad he has someone looking out for him.
“She was eleven.” He shifts as though he’s uncomfortable, but doesn’t release me. “Gage and I did what we could, but it was tough. Don’t know if we could’ve got through it without our president’s old lady stepping in.”
I press my lips against his shoulder. It’s instinctive, not sexual at all. Just a comfort thing really, and I’m probably crossing some invisible line, but it doesn’t matter. There’s a chink in the armor this tough guy shows the world, and even if I never see him again after tomorrow, I’ll never forget him. And that won’t be just because of the amazing orgasms.
His hold on me loosens, but I’m not ready to let him go yet. He wasn’t comfortable sharing about his family, that’s obvious, and even though I want to know so much more about him, it’s not going to happen if I push it.
I change the subject back to what we were discussing before it became too personal. “Did the same artist who does your tattoos do Kat’s butterfly?”
Relief flashes over his face, although it’s gone in a second. It seems my gut feeling was right, as his arms once again tighten around me. “Yeah.” He gives me a crooked smile that makes me all warm inside. “Cade’s the best around.”
“I’ve been thinking of getting one done.” Oh my God. Where did that come from? I might wish I had the nerve, but, hello, needles. Why put myself through unnecessary pain?
“You should.” He hauls me close so I’m squashed against his bare chest. Not that I’m complaining. “What’ve you got in mind?”
Wait. He sounds serious. Then again, why wouldn’t he? He doesn’t know that between my phobia of needles, and years of having it drummed into me that tattoos are tasteless and common, I’m as likely to get one as fly to the moon.
I tuck my fingers into his back pockets. Damn, his butt feels good. “Well,” I hesitate. Despite everything, the crazy thing is I know exactly what tattoo I’d love. “I’ve always wanted a single iris. You know, the flower.” I don’t want him thinking I want some freaky eyeball on my body. “In memory of my grandmother, Iris.”