Fade Back (A Stepbrother Romance Novella) Read Online Free

promises she'd elicited. She told herself the pitter-patter in her chest was anticipation of the inking needles, or a by-product of her hangover; anything except the chiseled face of the man about to lay her out on a table and... She stopped herself from thinking any further along that tantalizing line. She forced herself to think about her job, and the crumbs Jerome left all over the couch when Becka finally emerged from the bathroom after applying her make-up, to find him gone with the front door ajar.
    Reminding herself of her best friend's most irritating habits seemed to do the trick, and by the time she was ready to descend the seedy steps, she was as relaxed as she'd been all week.
    When she walked through the door, she couldn't detect Karen's skulking presence behind the desk, and only one lamp beside the beaded curtain glowed to light the room. Becka wondered for a moment if she'd come in on the wrong day, but the unlocked door and the faint thrum of guitar-based rock trickling out of an unseen radio assured her someone was definitely home.
    "Hi… Karen?" Becka’s voice wavered into the empty store-front.
    "She's not here, I'm afraid,” Fitz’s voice wafted out from the curtain, followed shortly by the man himself. He wore the same tattered jeans as before, the flanks dotted with ink stains to match his calloused hands. "You know Mick, don't you? It’s something with his niece, or whatever. Doesn't matter. Anyway, come on through!" Fitz was chattier than on their last meeting.
    Becka wasn't sure if she imagined a nervousness in the guy, who seemed almost giddy in comparison to the cool dude of a few days before. Becka liked it.
    "So I want to show you the design, of course, I mean in case you don't like it. Or want to change it or something,” Fitz mumbled as he ruffled through sheaves of cartridge paper littered with sketches. Every scribble looked like a masterpiece to Becka, but when Fitz, blushing adorably, extracted one piece and smoothed it out on the padded table, she knew this was definitely for her.
    It was a circle, precise and exact, with tangents striking out from its edges like a fan. This hard black fringe somehow bent and extended inwards into the circle, refracting and connecting beams to support a kaleidoscope of stained glass. Angles and line segments interacted to form an endless series of shapes, undulating across the paper's surface, and at their very center, where the magic of these lines should have created a point, there was instead a pulsing red heart, carved from the blankness by glorious ink.
    Becka was speechless. She bit her pouting lower lip and nodded slowly, vowels escaping her mouth, undefined by consonants, "Ohhhooeeeeuuuaaaahhh..."
    "Can I take that as a yes?" Fitz asked, his composure returned in the face of such overwhelming approval.
    "Yes! I love it. You're amazing— It's amazing. The design, I mean. And you, the designer of the design. Oh wow. Shut up, Becka."
    "I'll take the compliment!" Fitz laughed, throwing his hands up before turning around to busy himself with his inks and machinery, mussing up his gorgeous hair, the square lines of his jaw teasing her beside the curves of his neck. “Where do you want it?”
    “Umm, I was thinking on my rib cage, off to the side… but this design, it should probably go right in the center, do you think?”
    “Yeah, I’d have to agree. Right below your… umm… bra line, in the middle.”
    Becka was pretty sure she'd seen her tattoo artist's blush deepen before this hurried about-face, and once again, the tug of distant recognition returned. Why did he look so familiar? She was grateful when Fitz waved a hand behind him for her to lie down on the table. His eyes remained studiously averted as Becka pulled off the plain navy tank top she'd finally selected, but she could see the guy glancing in his peripheral vision. She was glad she wore a sexy little lacy bra underneath. The idea of being scoped out by this supposedly