The Purest Hook (Second Circle Tattoos #3)(55)
Perhaps she should resign . . . put some distance between herself and the studio. Her stomach turned and she was grateful she’d not eaten breakfast.
And then there was Dred, the first man she’d ever had deep feelings for. What would he think of her when all was revealed?
*
With the help of a great checking agent at Gale?o International Airport who also happened to be a hard-core metal fan pissed to be missing Rio’s biggest open-air concert of the year, Dred had secured himself a business-class seat on the last flight out of Brazil.
He’d walked off the stage, straight into a waiting limo, and rushed through the crazy nighttime traffic. The rest of the guys had been totally supportive of his detour on the way home. Thankfully, with the agent’s help, he’d managed to grab a quick shower in a VIP lounge and was able to change out of his concert gear into something way more comfortable for a thirteen-hour trip that included a quick stopover in Atlanta.
Dred stepped off the plane in Miami and looked at his watch. Ten a.m. He made his way to the exit and grabbed a taxi, telling the driver to go straight to Second Circle.
It was a week since he’d seen Pixie, and he was beginning to realize that a long-distance relationship was going to take a bit more planning than he’d done so far. They needed rules, like the maximum time they’d spend apart or that he’d always be responsible for buying tickets. He’d gone from having no family of his own, to having Petal and Pixie in less than a month, and he was determined to not let them down.
“You can pull up here,” he instructed the driver, indicating a spot a few feet away from the studio, hoping to prolong the surprise until the last possible second. Trent was in the window of the store, head down, focused on a tattoo. Cujo was standing near the desk. When he moved to the left, Dred could see he was talking to Pixie who was laughing at something. God, she had the best smile.
Pushing the door open, he walked into Second Circle. It was the first time they’d really gone public with their relationship, and he wasn’t sure what her boundaries would be with regards to him greeting her exactly how he wanted. But he needn’t have worried. The moment she looked up, she squealed.
“Oh my God,” she ran around the counter, throwing herself into his arms so he had no choice but to catch her. “You’re actually here.” She showered kisses all over his face, and while he was aware that pretty much everybody in the studio was looking at them, he didn’t really give a f*ck.
“Hey, Snowflake,” he said before capturing her lips and kissing her the way he wanted. She tasted fruity, like jelly beans. It was fun, and sweet, and so very Pixie.
“What did I tell you about hitting on the staff?” Trent asked, slapping him on the back.
Dred lowered Pixie to the floor but kept her tucked under his arm. He shook hands with Trent. “Good to see you too.”
“What are you doing here?” Pixie asked him, the huge grin on her face worth every uncomfortable moment of the shitty overnight flight.
Suddenly he didn’t feel tired at all. “I was in the vicinity, so I thought I’d drop by.” He kissed her again.
“I’m going to vomit. Or punch you. Can’t decide which.” Cujo shook his hand and slapped his shoulder, with enough force to send him a little off balance. It wasn’t so hard as to take offence, but it certainly wasn’t harmless.
Dred grinned. He understood where Cujo was coming from and was happy that Pixie had someone to look out for her when she was in Miami and he wasn’t.
“Four thousand miles is nowhere close to the vicinity,” Pixie said. She stood on her toes and kissed him quickly on the lips. “But I am very glad you came by.”
“What time are you off today?”
“Not until five, and Eric called in sick, so I really can’t bail today.” She took his hand and led him to the empty kitchen area.
Out of sight of the others, he let his hands to slide over her ass, and sucked the skin on the side of her neck. “Don’t worry about me. I came here to see you. Don’t care where that happens,” he murmured.
He smiled as she tilted her neck away from him, allowing him better access. Fuck. She was delicious. He stood up straight but kept his arm around her waist. There was no way he could do what he wanted with her while they were still here. His flight home wasn’t until quarter past nine, so he didn’t need to leave Pixie’s condo until seven. He needed to talk Trent into letting his girl go an hour early.
“It’s so good to see you, Dred. It’s been a crappy week, and I really missed you.”
“You were on my mind all the time too. Not sure what that says about us, but I like it.” He took in her pretty eyes. “Anyway, I have an idea for a new tattoo. You think Trent or Cujo can fit me in?”
“Sure, let’s go see the calendar. I think Trent’s good in another hour or so.”
Several hours and one tattoo later, Dred glanced over at Pixie. She was laughing at something Lia said.
“So what will it cost me for you to let Pix leave now?” he asked Trent, itching to get Pixie alone for as many hours as they could manage. It was three o’clock and he watched Trent tape the cover over the incredible rose he’d inked as a tribute to Petal on Dred’s lower forearm.
Trent looked around the shop, presumably calculating what needed to get done before the studio closed in a few hours. “Your timing sucks, man,” he said. “Couldn’t you drop in like Superman on a Wednesday?”