Indelible You (Imagine Ink) Read online

  INDELIBLE YOU

  IMAGINE INK 1

  VERLENE LANDON

  Indelible You

  Imagine Ink 1

  Copyright © 2015 Verlene Landon

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design: Blue Sky Design - https://www.facebook.com/BlueSkyOverBoston

  Editing: Twitching Pen - http://www.twitchingpen.com/

  Formatting: Shore Thang Publishing Services - https://www.facebook.com/ShoreThangPublishingServices/

  License Notes:

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Publisher’s Note:

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without express written permission from the publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, resold (as a “used” e-book), stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Acknowledgments

  Excerpt From Brand Me: Imagine Ink 2

  DEDICATION

  To anyone who spent their hard earned money on a book by a complete nobody. Taking a chance on an unknown author’s debut novel, believing, at least in a small way, that it wouldn’t totally suck.

  CHAPTER ONE

  LATE MAY

  WALKER

  Oh great, another night of torture, he thought.

  Another night of that fuck-me voice teasing his cock, that infectious laughter invading his bloodstream, those smiling eyes forcing his lips to involuntarily curl upward, and he doesn't smile, damn it.

  Ever.

  Another night of dreaming it's her when he's in the shower later—alone—or when forced to take a pale imitation back to somewhere to scratch that physical itch.

  Who the fuck was he kidding? That particular itch hasn't been scratched in what now? Ten months, one week, three days, and…six hours and thirty-seven minutes, give or take. Not that he was counting.

  Nope.

  No sex with a partner for Walker, not since the realization he'd fallen in love with his sister’s best friend hit him like a Mack truck, or rather, when Big Dax pointed him toward the truth of it.

  Yep, it was the shower solution ever since.

  As Walker made his way across the parking lot to join the group waiting for him to board the ferry to Crossbones, he spotted Erika right away. She stood out in the crowd. Always.

  Under the harsh treasure-themed string lights of the dock, she was a glowing beacon beckoning him closer. Remembering the first time he met her never failed to cause a stutter in his heartbeat. It was one of those rare moments in life—a slice of time the importance of isn’t realized but in hindsight—imprinted on virtual celluloid, to be played over and over in memory.

  If only he'd asked her out when Tori brought her into Imagine Ink to get her first piece done, they'd probably be married by now, with at least one kid, and another on the way; but, he'd had a girlfriend at the time, and it wouldn't have been right. He may be a lot of things, ex-con, crappy son, shitty brother, etc., but he was no cheater. Plus, all his bad boy behaviors were in the past, where they belong; he was no longer the inconsiderate asshole who thought of no one and nothing beyond himself and whatever pleasure he could seek.

  The next few times she came in for ink, he was still seeing Jo. Jo had already pretty much checked out of the relationship, and they were practically broken up. Still, the timing wasn't right. “Practically” isn’t the same as “actually.” Jo was still living with him, because she didn’t feel like moving, and he didn’t feel like fighting about it. So, he spent almost four months not even staying at his own place, and tried, unsuccessfully, to forget his budding feelings for Erika.

  Seven tattoos and what felt like fucking ages later, Erika was a firmly entrenched in his entire circle of friends. It had been five years now since he first laid eyes on her and Walker ached for her every minute of it. After Jo, he wasn't ready for anything that lasted longer than a weekend, although he tried with a handful of failed relationships. His heart wasn’t in them, but it still hurt like hell when they cheated or left, and they always did, he saw to that. After successfully—albeit unconsciously at the time—sabotaging any chance at a genuine relationship, he refused to put himself out there to be hurt, used, or rejected.

  Almost half a decade after he tattooed a faerie on Erika’s thigh, he continued to torment himself by spending almost every weekend with her and not touching her golden, sun-kissed skin.

  At this point, it was fear, and he knew it. He waited so long, and they were such good friends now, he wouldn't even know where to begin. To lose the closeness that’s grown with Erika would slay him.

  However, the vaguest of notions, slightest of signs, any inkling at all Erika was interested in him, and hell, he would have her on her back so fast she would swear they were pulling G's. But, that was all just wishful thinking on his part.

  Tori waved and started heading his way as soon as she spotted him across the parking lot. "Hey Dubya, you're late. The main ferry is almost heading out for the final run. We would have to wait and take the two-person ferries in waves."

  She threw her arms around his neck and Walker picked her up in a bear hug, spinning her around. "How's my favorite sister?"

  "I'm your only sister, now put me down and let’s get moving." Tori was already walking away when she stopped short in her red pumps and spun. "Where's your overnight bag? Please tell me you're not flaking on us?"

  They started walking again and Walker threw his hands up in surrender. "Sorry sis, but I have a client tomorrow, can't be helped."

  She harrumphed. “Well, that bites, this is the last weekend for all of us to be together for a while."

  Before he had a chance to quiz her on what she meant by that statement, they arrived at the dock.

  Caleb and Marty did the usual masculine hand shake, hug, back slap thi
ng in greeting him. They were more like brothers than friends, seeing each other often throughout the week, so they didn't need the big catch-up moments on the weekends like some did.

  Turning to Melanie and Erika, they both gave him the same greeting—a hug with a mutual kiss at the corner of the lips. Same action, but oh-so-different reaction.

  Walker always saved greeting Erika until last so the sizzle he got—that reminded him of sticking his tongue to a 9-volt—would linger and wasn’t tainted by Melanie's lips. Not that Melanie isn't drop dead gorgeous, all Tori's friends are. They work for a water-sport event organizer, so it's kind of a job requirement, but he wasn’t in love with Melanie.

  "Hey Dubs, what's new?"

  No matter how much he loved that rough, just-woke-up-after-a-night-of-pleasure voice of hers, he hated it when Erika called him by his nickname. He wasn’t fond of it from anyone, but especially her. Given that nickname during his stupid street days, it stuck with him for his three-year stint in prison and reminded him she was too good for an ex-con with tattoos up to his ears.

  She’d gone to college; he’d gone to lock up.

  Walker only needed to look at her and his smile came back. "Not much gorgeous, how about you?" he answered, with a wink and an obvious perusal. It was their way, this flirtation that wasn't really. At least not for her, he thought.

  As he let his eyes caress her entire length from head to toe, his appreciation of her casual style was renewed. While the other ladies were dressed to the nines in designer shoes and tons of jewelry, Erika had on a short sundress that displayed some of his finest work, and flat-toe sandals. Her jewelry was simple and beachy, made of pukka shells and jute.

  Those golden locks he was dying to fist in his hand and feel brush across his thighs were left to catch the ocean breeze in the back. Wild and untamed. However, the front was pushed back and restrained in a tortoise shell band, leaving her face open for admiration, in a simple yet refined way. A true contradiction, just like her.

  The hazel eyes that haunted his dreams were flecked with gold and framed in lashes enhanced with only mascara, and the lips he wanted to see wrapped around his cock were glossed—nothing more. Walker ached to kiss and catalogue each freckle that spread across her nose and cheeks in the shape of a butterfly. Erika didn’t need make-up, she was a natural beauty.

  "Same old, same old.” Erika looped her arm through his as they made their way up the dock to the ferry. "So, you're not staying?"

  "No, I have a client tomorrow." Noticing her own lack of bag prompted him to ask. "What about you, not spending the night onboard or in a hut?”

  Erika leaned into him and her breath feathered his cheek. “My bag is back at the truck. I wanted to get a feel before I committed to stay. You know how Tori is—like a dog with a bone—she never lets anything go. If I brought a bag, I’d have to stay, period. I figured if I decide to stay I could take the two-man ferry back and grab it."

  ***

  ERIKA

  Erika tried not to let her disappointment show. The real reason she left her bag in the car was Walker.

  Reluctantly pulling her arm free from his as they reached the end of the dock, she stepped up onto the ferry. Feeling the loss of the physical connection to Walker was an ache blooming in her gut and radiating throughout her body. Mourning that loss for the fifteen-minute ride out to Crossbones would be unbearable.

  Crossbones wasn’t your typical bar. It was an old ship, rebuilt and restored to look as it would've in the heyday of pirating, but with modern touches. The deck was an open-air nightclub with a giant hot tub on the stern and a small dance floor on the bow. Below deck was a dance club that played techno some nights and featured bands on others. There were also rooms for those who stayed aboard for the weekend, or just wanted some privacy.

  Once the party started, the ship puttered around the bay until 2:00 a.m., docked at Hideaway Island until 5:00 p.m. the next day, then started all over again. No bigger than a few miles, Hideaway hosted a handful of beach huts, jet skis, and fishing equipment for rent, and not much else. All the amenities were on the ship, although, the island did have some impressive snorkeling spots and beach combing. It was one of the hottest tickets in town since space was limited, but this was one of their two big weekends a year, so it was worth the healthy price tag.

  Caleb and Marty managed to engage what seemed like the whole party ship in a game of bastardized beer pong by the hot tub. Erika watched and shook her head with a smile. They were all in their late twenties and early thirties, but when they had their BBW—bi-annual blowout weekends—it was as if every one of them recessed back to their college years, her included. She was the oldest and, at times like this, she certainly felt it.

  Melanie hooked up with some other friends and disappeared below deck to the dance club. It was a techno night, and the girl loved her techno. Tori's boyfriend, aka The Dick, showed up on one of the small ferry trips and they retired to her room.

  At thirty-two, Tori could do whatever she pleased, but everyone knew he was a total douche. Walker promised not to assault him again, even though it was clear he was spoiling to throttle his ass. Walker was the one who realized, before Tori did, that the asshole was married. Supposedly separated, but, still married. Tori made her little brother swear to leave them alone, so he did. Walker was true to his word, even though the fact his big sister was with a married man would burn in his gut. In Walker’s mind, married people don't sleep with other people. Period. No matter what the situation.

  Erika wasn’t too happy The Dick showed up, nobody was, but Tori was content, and Erika wasn’t one to interfere. The reason she didn’t like him had nothing to do with his marital status, it was his behavior toward Tori that Erika detested.

  Hell, she wasn’t one to judge, if he said the marriage was over, and Tori was okay with that explanation, she was too. Erika was Tori’s best friend, and she would support her no matter what. No one knows what truly does or doesn't go on in a marriage, but the two people involved.

  Erika also accepted not all marriages are what they seem; she understood that truth better than most. So, while she wasn’t happy about The Dick, she wasn’t going to spoil the BBW for her friend. His appearance did, however, make her decision on whether or not to overnight on the ship a clear one.

  With everyone else occupied, Erika was left with just Walker. Never having been uncomfortable with him before, she was disturbed to be so now. They usually enjoyed a pleasant silence, or a therapeutic gab session.

  Her deep friendship with Walker rivaled what she had with Tori, Melanie, and Andy. Erika spent a lot of time with Walker, learning everything about each other, well, mostly everything. He unquestionably knew more about her than almost anyone else in her life.

  The discomfort was only in her head; she was nervous because she decided tonight was the night, that's all. She wouldn't lead off with the whole: “I-think-I'm-in-love-with-you” thing, or the “I’m-leaving-for-a-few-months-to-clear-some-things-up-so-we-can-be-together-forever-if-that's-what-you-want?” line. The last thing she wanted was to send him running for the hills.

  Man, even in her own head she sounded needy.

  Hopefully, that wouldn’t translate to her actions. Being around Walker, now she had decided to pull that cord and see if they could fly, made her feel like she’d been about to ask the quarterback to prom when she was an awkward sixteen year old.

  Walker was only twenty-seven, and one wouldn't expect him to be the fall-in-love type. Walker's appearance didn't exactly scream: “Hey ladies, I'd make a good husband, father, and provider.” Although Erika knew, with all her heart, all three of those things were true. Just goes to prove, you can't judge a book and all that.

  He also possessed a genius IQ, but he didn’t share that bit of information with too many people. No, his bad boy looks screamed something more like: “Hey ladies, if you want the best night of your life with no strings attached, board the Walker Train and hold on.”

  Erika knew h
e dreamed of the whole family-thing, a dream they shared. Kids, spouse, yappy dog, middle-class house, et cetera. One night, he’d gotten wasted, and, being an apparent emotional drunk, spilled his deepest secrets and domestic desires. In his Crown-induced truth session, he shared his dreams of settling down with someone he loved, who loved him too, past and all. He had looked at her with a wistful expression, like she was the one he loved, before he passed out.

  That was the one and only time she’d seen him foxed. Walker had never been a formal alcoholic, if that’s such a thing? No rehab or anything like that, but he believed he was heading there before he went to prison.

  Since she’d known him, he never had more than a drink, maybe two, at any given time—said he didn’t trust himself to have more—until that night anyway. That was around ten months ago and she dreamt of that look in his eyes ever since.

  Erika prayed after she spilled her guts, she’d be the one he offered it to every morning.

  His black eyes—framed with lashes so long you could practically hear them “whoosh” when he blinked—bored into her soul like obsidian lasers.

  However, it wasn’t just his eyes that fueled her fantasies, his shaved head, and sexy biker beard were certified panty droppers. Not to mention those tattoos up to his neck, and the piercings in all the obvious, and not so obvious, places. Erika hadn’t seen all his piercings, yet, but she'd like too, even hoped to become intimately acquainted with each one on an oral level. Just like all his tattoos, she wanted to read them like Braille...only with her tongue. Erika spent many a night with “Thor,” her D-cell boyfriend, imagining tracing each line on his body and sucking each piercing.

  Now was as good a time as any. All was set for her to leave for North Dakota first thing in the morning. She needed to let Walker know how she felt before she left, and definitely before the liquid courage wore off and she channeled the cowardly lion. It was decided, she would ride the double ferry back to the parking lot when he left for the night, tell him how she felt and all her secrets, and see what happened. With any luck, they would share a long, promising kiss goodnight, maybe more, then in a few months, be starting their relationship free and clear.