Thorn (Thorn Tattoo Studio Book 2) Read online

  If things had been different, Luciano would have acted on his attraction to Melanie. She was slender and tall, and what she lacked in curves, she made up for in personality. A little dry sometimes, and a little sarcastic at others, she complemented his free spirit perfectly.

  He liked the thick framed, oversized glasses she wore, and he appreciated her simple aesthetic. She had a thing for nautical stripes and skinny jeans, and her lips always popped with vibrant colors, usually kiss-me red, but sometimes bright pink. Beyond that, she was the best damn assistant money could buy. Luciano didn’t think he’d ever find another girl willing to put up with his bullshit. Not only did he consider himself an asshole, but he refused to let himself be pinned down.

  The one time he’d let someone keep him in one place, his world had crumbled into pain and ruin. Which was why he could never hurt Melanie that way. He had a lock on his heart that he was sure would never come off.

  “You can create fine here,” Melanie said, interrupting his thoughts. She kept her voice positive, but years spent working together made Luciano acutely aware of the undercurrent of rigidity in her words. “Thorn Tattoo is your home, Luc. There’s not much you can’t do here.”

  “Except feel free.” Luciano shrugged. “I like the feel of the sun on my leather-clad shoulders. Hell, I even like the sunburns.”

  “You are not driving your motorcycle to Canada.” Melanie crossed her arms over her chest and leaned forward. The tip of her button nose was little more than an inch away from his. “Did three months in a New York winter teach you nothing?”

  Luciano waved a hand. “It’ll be July, maybe August. Trust me, Canada will feel way more comfortable than Vegas.”

  “And how long are you planning on staying?”

  “I don’t know. Three months? We could always go to Toronto.”

  “Toronto is just as snowy.” Melanie’s bold lips painted her dismay. “We’re finally back home. You have a chance to reconnect with your brothers. You own a house here. Isn’t it time we stopped touring? People are flying in from all over to visit Thorn Tattoo now. There’s no reason for you to go see them.”

  Luciano considered it, but not for long. He knew what he wanted, and he knew what his soul needed. Being pinned to Las Vegas wasn’t in the cards.

  Being back home in time for the anniversary of Cassandra’s passing was hard enough.

  “I thought we were going to go over re-listing the house today,” Luciano said. The best way to dodge a topic of conversation with Melanie was to deflect it with work. She was geared toward responsibility in ways he’d never seen before. Luciano felt like she had a plan for everything.

  “Right. I have some notes from the real estate agent on my tablet. I wanted to get the coffee run done first.” She gestured at the cup he’d been sipping from. “I found a new coffee bar this morning on the way to work. What do you think?”

  He took another sip giving himself a mustache before wiping it away with his thumb. “Smooth. Creamy. Strong. I like the flavor. It’s top notch stuff.” If he distracted her enough, there was a chance she’d forget. When the time came and the visas were issued, he knew Melanie would follow him. They were a team. He took to the road on his bike, and she followed behind in her mid-sized, ancient sedan stuffed full of his tattoo equipment and their worldly possessions.

  “If we leave Vegas, you won’t be able to get it anymore.” She winked. The gesture was playful, and he didn’t read anything more into it. “I heard they don’t do nitro brew in Canada. You’re going to be out of luck.”

  Damn it.

  “I’ll adjust.” Luciano pushed his chair away from his drawing desk. The surface was riddled with sketches and carvings. Some of his favorite work had been whittled into the wood. “Just… don’t get too comfortable here, Melanie. You said your family was always moving, right? So it should be second nature for you to be on the move.”

  It was very rare that Melanie lost her countenance, but in that moment, her eyes lost their luster. Luciano knew he’d said something wrong, and when she dodged his eyes and headed for the swinging doors back into Thorn Tattoo, he knew he’d really messed up.

  “Hey, Mel,” Luciano said. “Don’t worry about it too much, okay? Four months is a long time. Who knows what’ll happen by then.”

  Melanie didn’t say anything. She slipped through the doors and made her way back into the lobby.

  In her absence, Luciano’s gut twisted.

  He knew he’d done wrong, he just didn’t know how to fix it.

  3

  Melanie

  Melanie kept her bag in the car. Thorn Tattoo’s floor space was maximized for the artists’ convenience, and as such, had limited backroom space. There was barely enough room for the autoclave and a two-man coffee table—she refused to add to the clutter with her belongings. And as of yet, Luciano didn’t want them using the office, which she could understand. He didn’t see himself as the manager even if Antonio did. While she’d gotten used to working in cramped quarters with him, it would be nice to spread out a bit sometimes instead of practically living out of her car.

  Parking on the strip was a no-go, so any time Melanie needed something, she had to head a few streets over until the traffic thinned out and she could find a place to leave her car. In the summer, the walk was often too hot; although she found she didn’t mind the heat. This time of year, the weather was perfect. Neither hot nor cold. In confidence, Melanie had shared some things about her past with Luciano. It was natural. They traveled together, they ate together, they worked together, and they lived together. Over the course of the last two years, she’d spent almost all of her available time with him. He was more than just her boss, and more than just her roommate. Luciano was her friend.

  She’d trusted him enough to let the walls down, and now it felt like he was taking advantage of what she’d shared to suit his own purposes.

  The kitten heels of Melanie’s boots clicked against the sidewalk as she walked, and the steady rhythm helped ease her thoughts. Out of habit, she turned on the screen of her cellphone and checked for messages. There were several new emails waiting for her to read, but otherwise there was nothing of importance. She already knew what the messages waiting for her would say. Shops were looking to take on Luciano as a guest artist left and right. He’d risen to tattoo stardom close to five years ago, and since Giovanni and Riley had gained recognition as giants in the industry, Luciano’s popularity had experienced another surge. The DeRose name was hot stuff. At first, Melanie had been excited to be connected to all the celebrity.

  Now all she wanted was the simplicity of a life at home.

  “Get a hold of yourself,” she whispered. It was one more block until she reached her car. “You’re overreacting. He pushed a button he didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to push. You never told him about what it was like growing up with your family.”

  It was harder to internalize than it was to say.

  By the time Melanie reached her car, she’d worked off most of her emotions. The hurt she felt didn’t quite bleed into anger, but it was close. She hated to be angry.

  She opened the trunk and rooted around through her things. Luciano’s belongings still cluttered the space. There was a spare motorcycle helmet, a backpack jammed full of his clothes, a pair of canvas sneakers…. Melanie pushed it all aside and pulled her tablet out. Thanks to the built-in camera, she’d devised a system for organizing Luciano’s paperwork by scanning it in and saving it to her Cloud account. While she could have accessed the info from her phone, the walk felt good and she preferred to look at the documents on a larger screen. Living on the road so much, bouncing from state to state, made keeping everything compact and organized a necessity.

  Tablet in hand, Melanie made sure she had everything she needed for the day, and then made the walk back to Thorn Tattoo. She couldn’t stay upset with Luciano, not when he knew so little about the environment she’d grown up in.

  There were some things that Melanie didn�
��t like to talk about, no matter how close she got to a guy.

  The trip down Thorn Tattoo’s stairs and into the basement storefront was a lot simpler without blistering heat on her palms. As she entered, Jill looked lazily up from her magazine and waved. Melanie smiled, but inside she wished she had the power of authority that Riley—Thorn Tattoo’s assistant manager and newest superstar artist—had. It was clear that in the absence of Giovanni and Riley, the shop needed direction. Okay, it also helped that Riley was now married to Giovanni but from what Melanie had heard, Riley had already started developing her tattoo cred before she became Mrs. DeRose.

  Luciano could easily be the one to take the lead, if only he unburied his head from the sand and faced life head on.

  Ben, coffee in hand, was flirting with some of the girls who’d been browsing the display case before. He had a shading pencil tucked behind his ear, and Melanie was sure he was still with his client. Thorn Tattoo had hit it big, but with their management on the road, the artists were slacking off. While she didn’t think any of them would produce subpar work—they cared too much about their reputations to do that—they were taking longer to complete their projects, which would eat into the bottom line.

  She needed to get Luciano focused so he could fix this. It was a DeRose shop, and as one of the DeRose brothers, he needed to step up. This was their father’s legacy and both Antonio and Giovanni had been determined to build it up. Now would not be a good time for it to start falling apart simply because Luciano preferred to bury his head in the sand than face his grief.

  The swinging doors to Luciano’s tattoo bay parted with little force, and Melanie let herself in again. Luciano was at his drawing desk, notepad out, sketching. Stopping to admire him, she took in his straight nose and high cheekbones. Her eyes settled on his full lips as he licked them making her wonder what they would feel like to kiss. Shaking her head to stop her wayward thoughts, she knew she needed to concentrate on something other than kissing her boss.

  “I met with the real estate agent yesterday and took notes on what it would take to sell your house,” Melanie said, pulling the tablet out of her bag. “I also have all the information I could find on that ink company that you’re scheduled to meet with tomorrow afternoon.”

  Luciano looked over his shoulder at her, shocked. “What?”

  “It’s Prismatic Inks. They’re a little new, but they’ve been courting you on Instagram.” Melanie tapped through her tablet and produced the information on the company. “They claim their pigments are ten percent brighter and longer lasting than any of the inks currently on the market. They’ve wanted you to start doing some product placement, some name dropping….”

  Luciano needed some tough love. When she’d been in a similar situation, unsure of what her future held and disillusioned by her past, coddling hadn’t helped. What Luciano needed was a dose of reality. She’d do her best to give it to him. He had a job to do, and as a big name in the industry, he couldn’t afford to drop off the face of the earth. It wasn’t only a professional obligation; his brothers needed him, too.

  “Right. Right, I remember now. I was so interested in doing this.” The sarcasm in Luciano’s voice was biting. When Melanie had first started working for him, she’d thought he was being offensive. It turned out that Luciano didn’t mean it. His default mode was sarcasm, and any civil conversation they had was either the result of great effort or too much alcohol.

  “You told me I could schedule the meeting so long as you had time, and you have time.” She shrugged. “I know you’re not usually yourself this time of year, but I think it’ll do you good to focus on other things. If you keep clinging to the past, you’ll never grow.”

  “Says the woman urging me to stay in Las Vegas when all I want to do is move.”

  “That’s different.” Melanie held up her index finger to silence him. “Don’t try to twist the facts around on me, Luciano DeRose. I know you too well to fall for your tricks.”

  Luciano waggled an eyebrow. “Then maybe it’s time I learned a few new ones.”

  There was something about his expression that struck Melanie and made her pulse race. She gripped her tablet against her chest and glanced away, frantic to distract herself. She’d made peace long ago with the fact that her boss was attractive, and she’d come to accept long ago that getting involved with him was bad for more than one reason. It was professional suicide, for one, and two, Luciano was damaged goods. Melanie needed stability.

  After the life she’d led, she demanded it.

  So why was she struck in that moment by how Luciano looked at her? She tamped down any thoughts that her crush on her boss might be reciprocated in any way.

  “If you keep missing opportunities and letting those who want to support you down, you’re going to fall into obscurity,” she warned.

  “If I bind myself to obligation, then what fun am I going to have with my life?” Luciano shrugged. He turned back to his sketchpad. “Some people aren’t meant to stay in one place for long, Mel. I’m one of those people. Being home is nice, I suppose, but once I catch up with my brothers, I’m out. If it hadn’t been for Gio, I wouldn’t have come back at all. You know that they wanted me at the convention in Baltimore. We could have been back on the east coast, guest starring at one of the shops there.”

  There was no getting through to him. Melanie shook her head. “Well—”

  “Excuse me.” Jill’s voice cut through the conversation. Melanie turned to face her. “There’s some chick at the front who says she needs to talk to Luc? Says she’s… I don’t know. Courtney or something. From the East Coast Tattoo Society. She’s being pretty insistent about it. If you guys could go humor her so she could get out of my hair, I’d be really appreciative.”

  Melanie looked to Luciano to find he was already on his feet. He grabbed his nitro-brewed coffee and bowed his head to Jill. “Chipper as always. Thank you, sunshine.”

  Jill glared at him. “Dick.”

  “And honest, too.” Luciano’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “A true peach.”

  Jill flipped him off, then turned on her heels and left the room. Melanie raised a hand to her lips, trying to hide her smile. Maybe it was because she’d spent so long on the road with him and had gotten to know him so well, but she was in tune with Luciano’s humor. His sarcasm was top notch.

  “Let’s go,” she said. “If it’s east coast anything, we’re out, but we can humor her at least.”

  “Never say never.” Luciano pushed through the swinging doors. “Were you the one just telling me if I keep turning down opportunities, I’m going to fall into obscurity?”

  The nerve of that man. Melanie sighed and adjusted her glasses as she worked through her irritation. There was no point in arguing.

  No matter what, Luciano always had the last word. It both endeared him to her, and pushed all her buttons in the wrong way.

  Sometimes, it pushed her in all the right ways, too.

  ‘Courtney or something’ was Courtney Quinn, one of the most celebrated tattooed bombshell models in the United States. Melanie recognized her immediately as they approached the lobby. She was leaning over one of their glass displays, ignoring the ‘do not lean on display’ sign taped prominently on the front. In her form fitting tank top and her micro denim shorts, she left little to the imagination. A black and white portrait of a young girl’s face inked onto Courtney’s thigh smiled at Melanie as they approached. There were rumors online that the girl was Courtney when she was a child, but no evidence had been provided to support or deny the claim.

  “Oh, my god, Luciano DeRose!” Courtney exclaimed as Luciano and Melanie entered the front of the shop. She straightened her posture and met them halfway. Melanie had a hard time believing that breasts as big and perky as Courtney’s were real. Her tank top was torn down the front, showing off her ample cleavage. Her skin was pale there, contrasted to the colorful ink on her chest and down her arms. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m a big fan.”<
br />
  “I figured,” Luciano said easily. “It’s not often that haters are excited to meet me.”

  Courtney laughed. It was the shrill, put on laugh that Melanie recognized as part of flirtation. Had Courtney come all this way to sink her claws into Luciano?

  The sensible part of Melanie’s mind told her that it was good for him—if Luciano found a woman, there was a chance he’d stop mourning the loss of Cassandra. A smaller, wilder part of her mind rebelled at the notion. The two of them were closer than employer-employee. For the past two years, they’d lived as roommates while they were on the road. With all that time they spent together, Melanie knew him better than anyone else did and she wasn’t ready to lose him to someone else.

  Not that she had him in the first place, she reminded herself.

  Color rose to her cheeks, and she looked down at her tablet and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. It was better to let Luciano handle the meeting. She was there as his assistant, not his adviser. He could make the decisions he wanted to, no matter what the consequences. All she could do was make suggestions and try to convince him to change his mind when he made poor decisions.

  “I’ll have to watch out for you.” Courtney winked at him. She leaned forward the slightest bit. If Melanie hadn’t been watching her from her peripheral vision, she wouldn’t have seen it. The subtle move was just enough to show off her cleavage, and the way she held her arms pushed her breasts together.

  Courtney was definitely flirting. The hairs on the back of Melanie’s neck stood on end.

  “I’m pretty hard to miss,” Luciano reassured her. If he knew she was flirting with him, he didn’t respond in kind. Hesitantly, Melanie looked in his direction. He stood casually, hands in the back pockets of his jeans, looking at Courtney objectively.

  Was he not falling for her wiles? Melanie had a hard time believing it.