Harder (Stark Ink Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

exterior hid a heart of gold.
    He nodded and took her coffee from her. He set it down on the counter of the reception desk while she stuffed her purse in a drawer.
    “It’s awful,” Jeannie lamented. “Just awful.”
    Jeannie had never met Adam’s mother in person, but they’d spoken on the phone often enough. Mom had called almost every week to make sure he didn’t get so busy that he forgot about Sunday dinner, which he did anyway and had for the last year. Over the phone, Mom couldn’t see Jeannie’s spiked hair and silver nose stud, not that it would have mattered. Mom got along with everyone.
    “Yeah,” he said lamely because he really didn’t want to discuss it. “Listen, I’m going to do inventory.”
    Jeannie wrinkled her nose, probably because inventory was her job, but she patted his arm anyway and nodded. “Okay, hon.”
    Despite the fact that Jeannie was ten years younger and he was her boss, she’d taken to calling him ‘hon’ or ‘sweetie’ pretty much her first day on the job. He had to hand it to her, Jeannie had carved out her place in the world at only twenty-five. Within minutes of meeting her, she’d inform you what kind of relationship you were going to have with her and what the hierarchy would be. It was no surprise to Adam that Jeannie was always on top.
    He ducked into the supply room and closed the door behind him. He liked the young woman well enough, but he was still tired. He was glad he had the day off from tattooing to recharge. He began mindlessly stacking boxes of latex gloves and lining up bottles of ink, label out. Not the most intellectually stimulating work, but a comforting numbness set in and it was early afternoon before he resurfaced.
    He heard the jingle of the front door again and decided he’d been a hermit long enough. He stepped out of the stockroom and a smile played on his lips as he recognized the small, tatted blonde standing just inside the door.
    She held out a large envelope. “As promised.”
    Adam reached for it with no intention of taking out the art to check it. Daisy had been working on spec for him for quite a while now. He knew she was reliable. Whatever the client wanted, she delivered, custom tattoo art with her own personal touch. She had an eye for 50s kitsch that, in Adam’s opinion, was unparalleled, at least in the Dakotas.
    They’d gotten to know each other, traded war stories, and showed off bad tattoos. Daisy’s wasn’t so bad but Adam’s was spectacularly awful. In a fit of teenage rebellion, he and Dalton had driven to North Dakota where the laws were a bit more relaxed. Dalton had walked out of the only shop they could afford with a horseshoe on his arm while Adam had chosen a tribal tattoo, popular with frat boys across the US in the late 90s. Neither one of them had been particularly pleased with their ink a few months later. The first tattoo Adam had ever done for Dalton was to cover up the horseshoe with a cross. Adam's tribal tat circled his nipple and Dalton had forever nicknamed it the "Tribal Tit." It was still there in all its (in)gloriousness. Adam had never bothered to fix it.
    His hand slid past the offered envelope and caught her wrist. He turned it carefully.
    “What?” Jeannie called from across the lobby. Possibly, she thought Adam was in the throes of a breakdown or something.
    “Hang on,” he called back. “I need a minute. I’m temporarily blinded.”
    “What?!” Jeannie shrieked and came around the desk. Before she could get too worked up, Adam stepped to the side.
    “Light bounced off this meteorite and now I’m seeing spots,” he declared.
    Jeannie stopped up short and nearly crashed into them both. “Oh my God!” she shrieked. Jeannie was fond of shrieking.
    Daisy blushed.
    “When’s the big day?”
    The petite blonde shrugged. “No rush,” she told them both. “Maybe at the end of the summer.”
    Jeannie swept Daisy into a hug. “Congratulations!” As she stepped back, her face soured