Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“You’re doing so well, baby,” I praise. “I’m proud of you.”
“You probably say that to all your customers,” she grits out.
“I really don’t.” I’m quiet while I shade one of the feathers. “Honestly, you’re taking this better than seventy-five percent of my male clients do.”
“Seventy-five, huh?” she scoffs, then winces. “Awfully specific.”
“It’s true.” I lift the needle for a second, giving her a break. “You good?”
She blows out a sharp exhale. “Just ducky. Feels like a swarm of angry bees throwing a rave on my arm.”
I chuckle low in my throat. “Breathe through it. We’re almost done for today.”
Her eyes flick to mine, her special brand of dry humor sparking in her eyes. “Easy for you to say.” She drops her gaze to my crotch. “Since you’re more familiar with body modifications.”
My lips twist into a smirk. “If you continue to be a good girl, I’ll let you explore every single one of them any way you want tonight.”
She purses her lips and gives me a playful eye roll. “Let’s be honest, you’re going to let me ride you like a roller coaster no matter what.”
I choke on a laugh. “True.
“All right.” I start again, wipe the excess ink and keep going. As much as I enjoy joking around with her, every wince she makes carves out a hole in my chest. I’d do anything to take on this pain for her.
“Distract me.” She shifts in the seat and hisses. “Remind me that I chose this torture because I’m celebrating—”
“Five million views, baby.”
“Five million on part one,” she corrects. “The last three episodes haven’t quite caught up yet.”
I’d pull out my phone and read her stats to her but I’m so close to finishing this bird’s beak. “They all have a couple mil each. Don’t downplay your success. Your subscribers exploded and your other videos are all climbing too.” Pride swells in me. She’s built this while staying true to herself.
By the time I finish, she’s sweating and breathing hard. “All right. Done for now.” I push my stool back a few inches. “We can always add the branch and flowers later.”
“When I get amnesia about how much this hurt?”
“Yup.” I clean her up and bandage her arm with the clear, medical-grade adhesive bandages I always use on my clients. “This acts like a protective second skin. It’ll keep germs out and allow the oxygen in to help it heal.”
She twists her arm, studying the design. “It looks so red and angry.”
“It is right now. It’ll settle.” I gesture to the bandage without touching her. “I want you to leave this on for at least five days.”
“But I live with this amazing, very knowledgeable man who knows all about tattoo aftercare.” Her lips curve into a coy smile. “I’m sure he’ll take care of it for me.”
I lean down and brush a kiss against her inner wrist. “Damn right I will.”
“I can’t wait to show Wren when she gets here.” Emery stares at her arm as she sits up and swings her legs over the side of the chair.
Twisting my wrist, I glance at my watch. “She should be here soon, right? Finished just in time.”
“Yup. I can’t wait for her to see all the changes we’ve made at the house.” She beams at me.
Sterling House isn’t a shadowy relic anymore. Emery’s touch is everywhere—brighter lighting, refinished floors that don’t creak in protest, plants lining the windowsills. The walls are drenched in color now, layered with art and personal pieces that blend into my family’s history seamlessly.
Emery didn’t come in and erase the past. She helped me stop it from dominating each room.
Her enthusiasm for making the space ours has been contagious. I reclaimed what used to be my father’s workroom and turned it into my art room. Together, we carved out a space for Emery—a quiet, dedicated studio where she can work on her videos whenever she wants.
For the first time, the place doesn’t feel like a burden I inherited.
Someone knocks on the door to my room. Most likely Lucy. I shout for her to come in.
The door swings wide and she stands there with an approving smile. “I didn’t hear a single scream. How’d you do, Em?”
Emery jumps up and hurries to show Lucy my work.
Lucy studies it closely, her lips twitching with amusement. “I’d love to pick it apart just to mess with D, but it really is flawless work.”
Emery’s eyes narrow just slightly. While she’s gotten close to Lucy, she’s protective of me and my art.
Lucy follows us out into the rest of the shop. “Wren’s coming today, right?” Lucy asks casually. “Is she meeting you guys here or at the house?”
“Here,” Emery says, casting a sly glance my way. “We’re going to take her to dinner at Hollow Hearth. Do you want to join us?”
Emery’s convinced Lucy and Wren are sweet on each other.