Page 11 of Hidden Ink

She just hoped he’d tell her his.

“Enough of that,” she mumbled to herself. She’d spent the past twenty minutes staring in the mirror, trying to figure out how she’d gotten herself into this situation, and now she was going to be late if she didn’t get a move on.

As fast as she could, she finished straightening her hair, the sleek threads forming a perfect bob. Her post chemo hair wasn’t as straight as it used to be so she had to iron out the wave if she wanted her hairstyle to work. Her thick bangs rocked in her opinion, and she was grateful her hair hadn’t thinned like so many others’ had. This hairstyle, actually, came from one of the wigs she’d had during her treatments. She’d loved the way it framed her face so much, she’d let her hair grow out into the style.

She quickly did her makeup, making sure her lips were stained a deep red. If she pressed a glass to her lips or even kissed Sloane later, the stain wouldn’t come off. She loved this brand and prayed her shop continued to do well so she could afford it.

The knock on the door came precisely on time, and she grinned. Sloane was known for his promptness. And knowing him and his military mindset, he had probably been outside for five minutes waiting for her because being right on time was actually late to him. She wasn’t usually late for things, but she sometimes came in by the skin of her teeth.

Hailey ran her hands down her long tunic again before opening the door, her heart beating loudly in her ears.

Damn she loved the look of this man.

He wore an old leather jacket that fit firmly to his shoulders and made her want to peel it right off him. His legs were encased in faded denim, but the jeans weren’t too old with holes or anything—just perfectly fit to his legs in the ideal blue. The black boots he wore only accentuated the sexy bad-boy image that made her heart beat even faster.

He’d put a knitted beanie on his bald head since it was still a bit cold outside despite the fact that it had warmed up some that day. Of course, with Denver weather, it could drop below freezing tomorrow and then be almost shorts weather the next day.

“Wow,” she whispered, and he grinned at her.

“You’re pretty wow yourself.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. His eyes were bright, as if he wasn’t sure how he’d ended up here either. Of course, she was probably just projecting.

“So…you want to come in?” She bit her lip. Why was this so awkward? This was Sloane. They saw each other practically every day. He was in her shop more often than not just to talk. Or in Sloane’s case, to grunt and mumble unless something was truly important to him. They knew each other…so why did this feel different?

Because it was different.

He tilted his head, studying her face. “If that’s what you want. I have reservations at Illusion in a bit, but I can move that if you want to do something different.” He grinned again. “I didn’t actually ask you what you wanted to do after all.”

She let out a breath. “We did this a little backward, didn’t we?”

He shrugged. “So what? We’re doing this, whatever this is, our way. That’s all that matters. So, why don’t you go put a jacket on and we’ll head to Illusion. We’ll figure the rest out when we do.”

She nodded, oddly warming at his words. She liked the use of the word our. She hadn’t been an our in far too long. As soon as she got her jacket and purse, she locked the door behind her and stood on the front porch with Sloane. He slid his large, calloused hand over hers and she licked her lips.

He’d touched her in the past, of course; slight caresses or a small pat on the back.

But he’d never held her hand.

This was happening.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low, deep.

Was she ready? She wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready, but here she was, with Sloane, as whole as she could be and about to take a leap.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Yes, I am,” she said a little more clearly.

He met her gaze and gave her a nod. “Good.” With that, he led her to his truck, a very sexy extended cab with thick tires for the winter. She knew he also had a bike he used whenever it was warm, and she’d always imagined riding behind him, her thighs wrapped around his body as they rode.

She blushed, annoyed with herself for even blushing in the first place, and pushed those thoughts from her mind.

Date first.

Sex later.

As soon as Sloane got into the cab, he raised a brow at her. “Either you’re cold from standing outside too long with me or you’re thinking dirty thoughts.”

She snorted and waved her hand. “I forget you know me so well.”

He licked his lips. “Does that mean you’re thinking dirty thoughts?”