I felt Jet tense next to me but neither of us moved.
“How long did it take you make your hair all fancy like that? It would be a real shame if someone went and messed it all up.”
I had awesome hair and it did in fact take longer than I liked to admit to get in the lifted, retro style. If this dude thought he was putting his hands anywhere near my head, he had another thing coming. I was going to tell him that we didn’t want any kind of trouble, that we were happily on our way out the door, when I saw his arm start to lift up. I was going to grab his wrist and tell him to fuck off, when the guy he had tagged in the ribs beat me to the punch.
He reached out and smacked his mouthy buddy’s hand out of the way and pointed at me.
“You look familiar.”
I cut Jet a sideways look and he shrugged.
“I don’t see how. It’s our first—and last—time in here.”
The guy considered me. I mean really looked at me for a long minute until it got kind of awkward. The guy with the mouth looked like he was ready to pipe up again when the gawker suddenly snapped his fingers and broke out into a huge grin.
“I know! You played college ball for Alabama.”
I blinked and it was my turn to stare. No one recognized me from that part of my life. I mean no one. Those days were long past and I had only been on the field for one season.
“Uhh . . .” I heard Jet snicker a little next to me but I didn’t want to waste this chance at making a clean escape. “I did play, a very long time ago.”
“I graduated from the University of Alabama, so I follow the Crimson Tide like it’s my religion. You were a running back. I remember everyone saying that you had a boatload of potential. I remember thinking the coaches had some serious balls putting you in first string. You were fast, fast enough to help them get to the Sugar Bowl that year. Rowland something . . . right?”
I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck. The rest of the superfan’s cohorts had fallen quiet and were now looking at me in an entirely new way. Nothing like football to soothe the raging blue-collar beast.
“Rowdy St. James.”
He nodded. “Right. Rowdy, because you were wild and unpredictable. No one could ever tell what kind of pattern you were going to run. Something happened, though. I don’t remember what but I remember you didn’t play in the bowl game or the following season. I remember them taking about you on ESPN. You just vanished and everyone wondered why.”
That was not something I wanted to discuss, especially not with a group of guys that had been all too eager to start shit a second ago.
I shrugged and forced a sheepish grin. “Well, you know, the pressure got to me. I wasn’t ready for the big show. It just wasn’t meant to be.”
A professional football career really wasn’t in the cards for me, but it had nothing to do with the pressure and everything to do with me not being invested in it. But I wasn’t about to share that with these guys.
“You were a talented kid. It’s a shame you didn’t follow through.”
I gritted my back teeth and offered a shrug. It had nothing to do with follow-through and everything to do with the fact I nearly beat the starting quarterback to death with my bare hands a few weeks before the bowl game. Man, what was it with the ugly past rearing its head and refusing to stay in the dark where I left it?
There was only one way we were getting out of here. I reached out and clapped the superfan on the shoulder and hollered as loud as I could, “ROLL TIDE!”
It was immediately followed by an answering holler from the guy that recognized me and that of course started an epic debate about college football and the Big Ten, which of course transitioned into talk of the Broncos and their tragic loss in the Super Bowl earlier in the year. Before the guys had noticed, Jet and I managed to slip out the front door, leaving the sounds of arguing male voices and clinking beer bottles echoing behind us.
In the parking lot Jet doubled over in laughter and I couldn’t help but smack him on the back of his head as we made our way to the flashy Dodge Challenger he drove.
“Shut it.”
“What the fuck does ‘Roll Tide’ even mean?”
He popped the locks on the car and we got in.
“How about, ‘Thanks for saving us from having to fight our way out of there, Rowdy’?”
The car started with a sexy purr and I had to cringe when thundering guitars and screaming vocals assaulted my eardrums. I dug what Jet did for a living and there was no doubt that he was a very talented dude, but that metal music he liked and played was not my favorite. I reached out to turn it down without asking, which made him laugh again.
“It’s a football thing. Something you musicians wouldn’t understand.”
“Hey, I watch football when it’s on.”
“I’ve watched games with you. You watch for five minutes then check out and either get falling-down drunk or go find something to write with and end up writing twenty new songs by half time. That is not watching the game, my friend.”
He didn’t argue with me. “Still, I had no idea you were seriously famous for throwing a ball around. I mean I knew you played when you were younger, but not that you were like on ESPN and shit.”
I groaned and leaned back in the seat. “I didn’t throw a ball. I caught a ball and ran with it, and the only reason anyone cared one way or the other was because I walked away from all of it without an explanation.”
He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and I purposely looked away.
“I don’t suppose you want to explain it now?”
“You suppose right.”
“Well, hell. I thought my old lady was the master of keeping the past a secret. Turns out she don’t got nothing on you.”
I just grunted in response.
The truth was I never really thought about my past. I had put my heart on the line after I followed Poppy to college, watched it get shredded, and had decided then and there I was never going to invest myself in anything or anyone like that every again. I dropped out of school, not like I really had a choice after the incident with the quarterback anyway, and ended up doing the same thing Salem did, packed a bag and hit the road, leaving everything behind.
I left Texas—all the memories she held, football, college, and Poppy Cruz in the dust, where they had stayed until a few weeks ago when Salem sauntered back into my life like she had never left it.
Jet was right. I was twisted about Salem being in Denver. So twisted that I wasn’t sure how I was ever going to get myself straight again as long as she was around. That girl had ruined me once when I was young. I would never forget the way I felt when she walked away. I didn’t want Salem anywhere near me. I couldn’t trust myself not to fall back into caring about her, trusting her, being captivated by her, only to have her move on once again, leaving me empty and alone.
CHAPTER 2
Salem
I LOOKED AT THE very pretty blond woman standing across the desk from me. She was obviously nervous. Noticeably out of her element . . . the tailored pantsuit and the Gucci purse on her arm were a dead giveaway that this was probably the first time in her life that she had stepped foot in a tattoo parlor. I gave her my most welcoming smile and cocked a brow at her as she put her manicured hands on the desk in front of me. It was my job to manage the traffic, to make sure clients knew what they were getting and that they were matched with the right artist. It was also my job to make sure I didn’t let someone make a mistake that they would be stuck with on their skin forever.
The woman was probably the same age as me, around twenty-eight or twenty-nine, but she had that vibe about her that broadcast that she wasn’t really sure what she was doing at the Saints of Denver. This was the new shop Nash had opened after his dad had passed. It was right in the heart of the trendy, more upscale part of LoDo and far more modern and slick than the shop that was on Capitol off of Colfax. The artists that worked here had been handpicked by Rule and Nash. They were skilled and pretty
awesome, and since this was a brand-new shop, and Nash wanted to build a reputation for it as well as have it double as a retail space for clothes and other tattoo-themed merchandise, I was spending more of my time here than at the shop where the guys were based. They rotated days so that one of them was always at the new shop to help drive traffic in through the doors.
Today was Rowdy’s day at the shop and normally that would thrill me—if he hadn’t been determined to pretend like we didn’t know each other and that I didn’t exist. It was going on a month, and every time those sky-blue eyes landed on me he looked away a second later and his jaw ticked in aggravation. I tried to corner him, tried to get him alone more than once so we could talk it all out, but the boy was good at evading me and I had never had to chase a man before, so I wasn’t really sure how to go about it and not seem desperate.
I saw the blonde gulp and she shifted nervously and I asked her, “How are you doing, doll?”
She snapped her gaze to me and her lips parted a little. She really was stunning in a very refined and country-club kind of way. Her eyes were the color of the ocean and looked terrified as she blinked at me.
“I . . .” She paused and I saw her gaze dart up to somewhere over the top of my head as I could literally feel Rowdy walk up behind me. I was so attuned to him, so aware of the space he took up and the way he smelled and affected the air around him, that I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know that he was there. The pretty professional gulped again and her eyes popped open even wider. Rowdy was hot, and when he smiled it was hard not to fall in love, but this woman looked like she was about ready to faint or throw up.
“Can I answer any questions for you, darlin’?”
Over the weeks I had learned fast that Rowdy was a big-time flirt. He always had a grin, always had a soft word and special little gleam in his eye for a pretty girl. His charm was effortless and so was the light humor he used to make his clients and friends feel at ease. If I hadn’t known the little boy he used to be, I would’ve taken it at face value, but I knew there was more to that careless demeanor and laid-back persona he showed the world.
Watching the color flee from the woman’s face as she gazed up at Rowdy over my shoulder, I asked her, “Do you want to sit down for a minute and look though portfolios or something? I can get you a glass of water and we can talk about what brought you to the Saints of Denver today.” I smiled at her again, hoping it would help calm her down and maybe distract her from whatever had her paralyzed in terror.
Slowly her perfectly coiffed head shook side to side in the negative. She lifted her hands off the counter and I watched them as they curled into tight fists at her sides. She blinked at me again and then jerked her gaze back up to where Rowdy was looming behind me and she took a stumbling step back.
“I’m just not ready for this.”
That was a pretty extreme response to chickening out on getting some ink, but I wasn’t the type to judge. I’d rather have her get out now than waste everyone’s time and back out on the day of the appointment or have a freak-out once she hit the chair. That was never good for business.
“You know where to find us if you change your mind.”
Rowdy’s voice oozed comfort and had a lull to it that seemed to calm her down. She clutched her purse and turned in a sort of frantic whirl and bolted for the door. It was odd, but definitely not the weirdest thing I had ever seen in a tattoo shop. I felt Rowdy shift behind me and knew he was going to walk away from me again without saying anything and I was done letting him ignore me.
Even though the shop was packed and the other artists all had clients they were working on, I still jumped up from the chair I was sitting in and grabbed the front of his shirt. It was black and had white piping on it with shiny pearl snaps up the front and I had been admiring all day the way the rolled-up sleeves showed off the colorful artwork that covered both of his forearms. I spent a good portion of my day checking him out and didn’t feel bad about it at all. His sandy-blond brows dipped down at me and the anchor that covered the side of his neck started to jump when he reached up and wrapped his fingers around my wrist.
“Let go.”
I instinctively tugged him closer so that he was forced to bend down a little, and those summer-sky eyes were all I could see.
“Stop avoiding me.” My tone was curt, but I was done playing games with him. We had to work together, but more than that, I was here for him and at some point he was going to have to know that and understand the importance of it.
“I’m not avoiding you.” All the welcome and honeyed sweetness that usually coated his words was missing when he talked to me. I saw the corner of his eye twitch when I pulled him even closer so that were almost sharing a breath.
“Yes, you are and I’m over it. You don’t want to talk to me, don’t want to catch up with me, then that’s fine, but you haven’t even asked about Pop—” I didn’t get the rest of her name out of my mouth before his other hand slapped over my mouth and he used the hand he already had around my wrist to jerk me forward and pull me to his chest. He bent his head down so his lips were right next to my ear.
“Don’t even think about going there with me, Salem.”
I shivered, and not from fear. I was finally pressed all against him, only the time and place was totally wrong. A fact proven by Cora’s sharp voice snapping Rowdy’s name and telling him to let me go.
Immediately his hands were gone and so was the press of his hard body against mine. I turned back around to look at him and saw the way his nostrils flared and the way his bright eyes darkened. He was mad, really mad, and finally a bit of the boy I remembered was shining through.
“We’re going to have to talk eventually.” I kept my voice calm and even smiled at him. I felt like any move I made was just going to spook him further.
He backed up a few steps and narrowed his eyes at me. “Not if I can help it.”
I cocked my head to the side and lifted an eyebrow at him. “Not talking about the past doesn’t make it go away.”
He made a noise low in his throat and shifted his gaze to the petite blond woman that had come from the upstairs area of the shop and stopped next to me. Cora had just had a baby with Rule’s brother and I couldn’t believe how amazing she looked. She was just as tiny and just as spunky as she had been before the baby, at least that’s what everyone told me. Little baby Remy, or RJ as she was more commonly called, stayed at home with Cora’s dad while Cora worked half days at the shop and her boyfriend went to work at the bar he owned. I had yet to meet Rule’s older brother, but I was curious about the kind of man that could put up with her fiery personality full-time. She was a delightful handful even if she was about to butt her nose into something she had no clue about. Rowdy and I had ties that bound us together, it was just proving more difficult than I thought to unwind them and tie them back up into a pretty bow.
“What is going on? We have customers, you dumb-ass.”
Rowdy shot a look over his shoulder and then looked back at me. I saw his eyes narrow and then his handsome face shifted and the cool cat that never got his fur ruffled resurfaced. The unflappable smile was back on his face and the midnight-blue shadows that had been dancing in his eyes vanished.
“Don’t worry, we were just setting a couple of boundaries.” He flashed the tiny blonde a wink and turned on the heel of his cowboy boot and made his way back to his station. He didn’t have an appointment for another thirty minutes but I could guarantee that he would find a way to keep himself busy until then to avoid having to interact with me anymore.
Cora propped her hip on the counter and waited while I checked out two clients and checked another one in. Sure I was a little rattled by Rowdy’s reaction to me trying to bring up my sister’s name, but I was more unsettled by how angry he really seemed to be at me. I hadn’t seen him in a decade and when I left Loveless he had been a teenage boy with his entire life stretched out in front of him. I couldn’t imagine what had transpired in my abs
ence to make him have such a burning resentment toward me.
Poppy and Rowdy had remained tight after I left. I knew that because before she had moved back home Poppy and I had stayed in constant contact; now our communication was far more limited. I knew that when they had graduated high school together Rowdy had picked the University of Alabama to attend because that’s where my sister decided to go, even though Notre Dame had offered him a better recruitment package. What I didn’t know, what I wondered at now, was how things had happened between them that had set Rowdy running away not just from my little sister but also from his entire future and education. I needed him to talk to me if I was ever going to put everything I had missed in the last ten years together to get a clear picture of who Rowdy was as a grown man.
Cora waited until I got off the phone and asked me to go upstairs with her. I didn’t really want to but I figured I couldn’t say no. Nash and Rule ultimately signed my paycheck, but I realized fast that Cora was sort of the rudder of the group. She steered the ship and I didn’t want to be the one causing waves so early on in my employment here.
I liked Denver. I liked the welcoming and fresh vibe it had. I liked my coworkers and the men and women in their inner circle. Rule’s wife was a sweetheart and there was no doubt the tattooed heartthrob had met his match in the classy blonde. Nash’s girlfriend was just a peach. She didn’t really talk much but when she did she was always kind and insightful and she looked at Nash like he hung the moon. I had only met Jet once but his wife, Ayden, popped in and out of the shop to talk to Cora at least twice a week, and I always thought she was a riot. And of course I adored Cora. She was smart, sassy, and full of attitude. She was just my kind of gal, only right now I was dreading getting dragged over the coals by her, but that didn’t change the fact that they were all really good people and I couldn’t have asked for a better place to land when I finally realized where I was supposed to be.