Marked Men: Rome Part 3

"What did you call me?"

"Captain No-Fun."

He let out a chuckle that sounded rusty from lack of use and he shook his head at me.

"Staff Sergeant No-Fun is more accurate."

I gaped a little in surprise that a sense of humor actually lurked somewhere under all the muscle and broodiness.

"I call my dad 'Admiral a.s.s Hat,' he doesn't really think it's funny."

The scar on his forehead twitched again. "Your dad was in the navy?"

"Oh yeah. He was totally Popeye."

"Was he really an admiral?" There was a shade of respect in his tone.

"Yep, so you can imagine how thrilled he was trying to rein me in when I was younger."

He chuckled again and this time it didn't sound so much like it hurt him. His eyes glinted at me as he pulled the door open to follow Rule out into the Colorado suns.h.i.+ne.

"I don't know, Half-Pint, something tells me reining you in is probably a pretty good time."

I felt my next words die in my throat, and it occurred to me that I was openly flirting with a guy I had poured beer all over only a couple of days ago. Not to mention he totally wasn't my type and so far from what my idea of what the perfect match for me was that it was laughable.

I jerked my attention back to Rule's client, who was still waiting to pay for the peac.o.c.k design he had inked along her rib cage. She was watching me with what I could only describe as envy, so I coughed a little and tried to get back down to business. It bugged me that while I ran her credit card and went over the after-care instructions with her, my gaze kept wandering to the big panes of gla.s.s that faced Colfax and the Capitol Hill area of downtown Denver. Rome had his back to the gla.s.s and I could see Rule gesturing with his hands, and he had a look on his face that was intense and serious. It looked like this was a confrontation the boys needed to have a long time ago.

"Here ya go." I handed her the slip to sign and wasn't surprised when she not only tipped 35 percent but also jotted her phone number down on the back of the slip. I would have given her a reproachful look or made some kind of snarky comment about it but she beat me to the punch.

With a shrug she tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave me a rueful grin.

"You have the best view in all of Denver in this shop, and every time I come back it gets better. I saw his girl's name tattooed across his knuckles on his hand. If he won't take my number, give it to the big guy, I'm not picky and he looks like he could use a good time."

She swept out of the shop leaving me feeling a mixture of irritation and something else I wasn't sure of. It felt slimy and slippery and I didn't like whatever it was at all. I was possessive over my guys, that much was true, but Rome wasn't one of them, so I couldn't justify why the girl wanting him to have her number made me want to pull out her hair strand by strand.

Rome and Rule were still going at it when his next client showed up, so I set the guy up and had him fill out all his paperwork and stuff so that all Rule had to do was put the transfer on and do the tattoo. When I got back to the desk, Nash was sending his client on his way and had taken over my seat. He was watching me steadily out of those eyes that were way more lilac than blue. I crossed my arms over my chest, propped a hip on the desk, and met him look for look.

"What?"

He rubbed his thumb along the corner of his mouth and blew out a breath. "I need a smoke."

"I thought you were trying to quit."

"'Trying' is the operative word in that sentence."

"Try chewing gum or something."

He grunted and arched back in the chair, lacing his fingers together behind his tattooed head. Nash was a really handsome guy, it just took a minute to notice it under that shockingly tattooed scalp and the tiny ring hooked through the center of his nose.

"Don't even try and go there with Rome, Cora."

I tried to keep my eye from twitching and my mouth from frowning. I had known Nash for a long time and there was no way I could pretend not to know what he was talking about.

"You all say he's a wonderful guy. Why wouldn't you want me to try and help get him back for you?"

"Because not everyone in the world needs your kind of help. Rome will find his way, we all believe that, and I was talking about the goo-goo eyes you two were just making at each other. That isn't something I think either of you needs to try and mess with."

I didn't like anyone trying to tell me what to do, even if I knew Nash was just looking out for my ultimate best interests.

"It's not like I'm Captain America's type anyway. Don't worry." I pushed the edge of the chair with my foot, making him twist away from me. "Besides, you know I'm holding out for Mr. Perfect and that guy is so far from it there isn't a bridge on this planet that could get him from here to there."

He planted his Vans-clad feet on the ground and pushed up so that he was standing in front of me. He bent down so that we were nose to nose and I couldn't look away from those intense, pretty-colored eyes.

"There is no Mr. Perfect, Tink. You made him laugh, whatever that means. I haven't heard him laugh one single time since he got back into town. Just watch yourself because no one county can have two rulers and neither one of you likes to give up control."

I wanted to laugh it off, to brush off his warning as unwarranted and silly, but I couldn't ignore the fact that Rome Archer was enigmatic and that I found him more interesting than anyone I had encountered in a long time. Not to mention I really did want to see what he looked like without his s.h.i.+rt on, which was something because my libido had been missing in action for longer than I cared to admit ... Ack, it all had the makings of something that was indeed bound to get complicated and messy if I didn't put a lid on it quick.

I sat back down just as Rule came back in the door. He didn't look overly upset, but he didn't exactly look very happy either. I was going to ask him if he was okay, but he waved me off and muttered that he didn't want to keep his client waiting any longer than he already had. Since that was a valid brush-off, I let it slide and went back about the business of keeping the shop running.

I know it was often hard to believe, given my big mouth and unusual appearance, but I had a killer mind for business and was really only a few college courses away from finis.h.i.+ng out a full-fledged MBA. My dad and I had a difficult and convoluted relations.h.i.+p, but I always wanted him to be proud of me, and he had given me every tool and every opportunity to be the best me I could be. It had just been him and me for as long as I could remember. My mom had decided having a baby and being married to a guy who was deployed all the time was no fun, so I bounced from naval base to naval base and spent unG.o.dly amounts of time with a series of nannies, distant relatives, and eventually Dad's girlfriends or live-in lady friends until I met Jimmy when I was seventeen and promptly decided he was my whole world.

Dad had eventually, after too many knock-down, drag-out fights, agreed to let me go live with Jimmy as long as I graduated high school and enrolled in college. I had no problem doing either of those things, and by the time I was a freshman in college, Jimmy had the shop open in Brooklyn and I was doing the same thing I did now for far less money. I had always had an interest in body modification, but I couldn't even draw a stick figure, so it was just a natural progression that I learned how to pierce and do dermal implants from the guy at Jimmy's shop. He was an awesome mentor and I liked having an actual skill that I could use in the world I lived in. Plus, it was fun to stick needles in people. What can I say, I'm a weird chick.

When things had gone south with Jimmy, my drive and ambition had taken a nosedive right along with my relations.h.i.+p. I barely finished my senior year and the damage done had a lasting effect on my GPA. I could go back and finish fairly easily but at this point in my career I made a good living at the Marked, I had a full life and generally was happy, aside from missing that magical connection with someone to make me a we instead of simply a me. I had been alone for too long.

Unbidden my thoughts went back to Rome and to that eerie and tight feeling I had in my chest when that girl had asked me to hand her number off to him. We were strangers, I was pretty sure I didn't even like him very much, but there was no doubt about it: today, while we were in each other's...o...b..t, he got me to react. I wasn't sure what to make of that yet. The last guy who had gotten me to react had also destroyed my world when he decided I wasn't what he wanted. I didn't do well as a leaf no longer attached to tree. I needed roots, a foundation to grab on to, and when my perfect guy came along he was going to be so solidly planted it would take a hurricane to move him.

The rest of the day was busy and I had two more appointments of my own to get through. I lost track of time and was busy cleaning up my piercing studio and hollering at the guys to make sure they turned off the lights on their way out when I heard the bell over the door ring. Since I had locked it after my last client, I knew it could only be Phil. I poked my head out of the door to tell him I would be out in a second and tried to remember if I had done the "cash out" in order to hand it off to him for the nightly cash drop.

Phil was as opposite to my very clean-cut, straitlaced dad as a man could get. He looked more like a biker than a successful businessman, but the two men had served together in their much younger days, Phil only staying in for a short four years, while my dad made a lifelong career out of the navy. I never really understood how they managed to maintain such a close friends.h.i.+p, considering they disagreed on everything under the sun. Phil was like a second father to me, and I treated him just like I did my own, so when I came out of the room snapping off my latex gloves, I frowned when I saw him sitting in my chair with his head in his hands.

Phil looked an awful lot like an older version of Nash; they had the same swarthy complexion, the same periwinkle-colored eyes, and the same stocky build. Phil had a riot of black hair that he wore pretty long for a guy his age, but with his sleeves of tattoos and neatly trimmed goatee, he pulled it off and still managed to be a babe even if he was in his late forties.

"What's going on, boss?"

He was typically an energetic and vivacious guy. He lived life at a hundred miles an hour and was constantly taking in strays. I personally thought it was his mission in life to save every wayward soul from themselves.

He looked up at me and I was surprised to see how tired and worn he looked. He had bags under his eyes and his normally full cheeks looked slightly sunken in and hollow, like he hadn't had a good meal in a few weeks. He rubbed his fists in his eyes and blinked at me.

"Just tired. I've been busy. I was thinking about opening a second shop in LoDo and that's taken more time and effort than I thought." He even sounded exhausted.

"I didn't know you were thinking about opening another shop."

"You guys are the best, but there is a lot of talent out there. I see way too many bad tattoos, too much messed-up work coming out of other shops in this town. I have the resources for it, and frankly I think Denver needs it."

I went to the safe and pulled the cash dropout. There was definitely a profit to be made in having a second location. I was just surprised I had never heard a word about it before now.

"Have you told the guys about it?"

Phil took the bank bag from me and I frowned when I noticed that his fingers were shaking. Something was off here and I didn't have a good feeling about it at all. He gave his head a little shake and pushed up from the chair. It looked like it took far more effort than such a simple act should have taken.

"No. Rule was busy getting a house and settling down with his girl. Nash would ask too many questions, want to be too involved, and I haven't made enough firm decisions about anything yet. Jet ran off and got married, so we know where his head is at, and Rowdy ..." A little grin tugged at his goatee. "Rowdy will just go with the flow. The others won't be affected by it one way or the other, so I don't think anyone needs in on it until I know for sure what I'm dealing with."

I had the very distinct impression we were talking about something other than a second tattoo shop, but I had no clue what that might be, so I just stared at him hoping he would clue me in. When he didn't I sighed and ran my hands through my short hair. I decided to change the subject.

"How well do you know Rome?"

He gave me a strange look. "That's an odd question, Cora. Why do you ask?"

I tried to shrug nonchalantly but I wasn't sure I pulled it off.

"Now that he's back from Afghanistan, he's around a lot. We don't exactly click. I poured a beer over his head at the barbecue on the Fourth. I thought he would be p.i.s.sed about it forever but then he showed up here today all contrite and conciliatory. I'm just trying to figure him out."

He started to answer me but broke into a cough so loud and hacking that I thought maybe I was going to have to catch his lung if it flew out of his mouth. I settled for patting him on the back until he waved me away.

"Stop it. I'm fine."

"You sound the opposite of fine."

"I think I'm just coming down with a cold or something." He cleared his throat and rubbed the center of his chest like it hurt. "I don't know Rome as well as the rest of the boys. He had it okay at home, his relations.h.i.+p with his folks was nowhere near as contentious as Rule's was. I know he loved those brothers of his and took care of them like it was his G.o.d-given mission from birth. They were a solid unit and I was glad when he took Nash into that fold. It didn't surprise me when he enlisted, or that things got rough when the folks let the truth out about Remy. Rome was always going out of his way to play hero for his little brothers, I'm sure it stung something fierce to find out one of them was protecting him all along."

"I don't get it. Why would anyone have cared if Remy was gay if they all loved him so d.a.m.n much?"

"It wasn't that. Rome would have tried to stand between Remy and the rest of the world, he wouldn't have tolerated anyone trying to say anything bad about his baby brother, regardless if Remy needed the help or not. I think he was saving Rome from himself by not telling him the truth, but knowing someone you loved so fiercely kept such a huge secret from you is rough. You know that, Tink."

I did know that, but I was so used to fighting my battles alone that the idea of having someone love me as unconditionally as that was pretty foreign. I mean my dad loved me, but he didn't necessarily protect me. I knew my friends here would die for me, would stand between me and anything that wanted to hurt me, but I was always the one that charged headfirst into most situations, regardless of the blowback that tended to end up on me. There were times when I wondered if I was going to be too much for them to take.

"He comes across very intense."

"He's a guy that has been at war for too long. I'm sure that's left its mark."

I thought about that scar that cut across his forehead, marring an otherwise beautiful example of masculine perfection. The marks that had been left on him from that life weren't just the ones on the inside, I guessed.

Another round of coughing broke through my thoughts and I scowled at Phil as fiercely as I could to let him know that I meant business.

"You need to get that checked out. It sounds terrible."

"Yeah, yeah, as soon as I find the time. It's just a little tickle."

"No, it's not. It sounds like you have the Black Plague."

He shook his head at me and bent over to give me a little kiss on the cheek.

"You worry too much. You take care of those boys, I can take care of myself." He lifted a dark eyebrow at me. "While you're at it, why don't you find someone to take care of you? That would make your old man so d.a.m.n happy."

I snorted and went to grab my purse and cell phone from the drawer I kept them in while I worked. I was trying, but everyone came up short. It was hard to trust someone enough to let them all the way in when I didn't think they deserved to be there.

"n.o.body fits the bill. Everyone keeps telling me my expectations are too high."

"Are they?"

We walked out the front door and I hit the last of the lights. I folded against Phil as he tugged me into a tight one-armed hug. I tried to fight down a swell of panic when I realized I could feel his ribs through his s.h.i.+rt. He was typically a solid guy, this wasn't good.

"My expectations are what they are. I'm never going to end up in a situation like I did with Jimmy again."

"Ah, honey, you gotta get over that burn. It was a long time ago. It should all be scar tissue by now and there are plenty of good, if not great men out there, and not a single one of them is going to come wrapped up in a bow of perfection."

"I expect a lot because I deserve a lot."

"That you do, Tink, but you also gotta keep your eyes open or the right one is going to pa.s.s you by because you were too busy looking for the white whale."

Again, against my will, my thoughts flipped to Rome Archer. I had told Nash that the older Archer was as far from perfect as I could imagine and I wasn't lying. He was moody, unpredictable, and I had a feeling that he was dealing with some baggage that even I couldn't help tackle. However, by all accounts he was also loyal to a fault, steadfastly honorable, and I had firsthand knowledge that he appeared to be honest and up-front about what he was feeling. There would be no guessing where you stood with the big guy, and something about that was alarmingly appealing.

Jimmy had been tall, not nearly as tall as Rome, but a lot taller than me. He had also had ink from his neck to his toes and had been pierced in all the most fun places. He wasn't drop-dead gorgeous like Rowdy, unforgettable like Rule, even just handsome like Nash, or rock-and-roll s.e.xy like Jet. He was just a guy, and I had loved him beyond measure. But now, looking back on things, I was beginning to wonder if maybe I had been selling myself short because Rome was most definitely the most attractive guy I had ever seen up close and personal and he thought I had pretty eyes. Jimmy had never told me I had pretty anything. Rome felt dangerous and exciting at the same time even if perfect was nowhere in the picture. It made me all kinds of tingly and that was more than anyone else had done since Jimmy broke my heart.

CHAPTER 4.

Rome

Rule looked p.i.s.sed when I finally pulled myself away from Cora and made my way outside. I wasn't looking forward to this little chat and flirting with the blonde was a great distraction. While she had been occupied with something on the computer I slipped in the front door and watched her unnoticed for a few minutes. She wasn't my type. I didn't normally go for girls that were so tiny. I liked them built st.u.r.dy and able to handle everything I had to give them. I wasn't a huge fan of all the ink and metal. I was used to it because my brother was covered in it and I had to admit that I liked the snowflakes that Shaw had across her neck and shoulders, but it wasn't my thing. I had enough permanent marks forever etched in my skin that I had never asked for and I couldn't imagine voluntarily adding any more. In fact I wasn't thrilled about the new addition on my head, considering that since I wore my hair so short, the bald spot from the scar was bound to show.

Cora was different. She didn't come across as delicate even though she probably only reached my chest when we stood toe-to-toe. Her eyes were outstanding. I had never seen anything like them; the dual colors were unique in themselves, but the fact that whatever she was feeling literally ran from one color to the next was fascinating. I had never met a woman that transparent or that open with her emotions before. It was like she had zero artifice in her. She was also d.a.m.n cute. Not beautiful or stunningly pretty, but she was cuter than any girl with that much att.i.tude had a right to be, and somehow the bouquet of flowers that colored her skin in every shape and variety seemed like it belonged there. Even the pink eyebrow ring and the little gauges in her ears didn't distract from the fact that she was pretty much a hot little number all around.

I had to drag my attention to my brother when I could feel the heat of his anger blazing off the distance separating us. His icy eyes were hard and I knew simply throwing out a generic apology wasn't going to cut it.

"Rule, I'm sorry." I took my hat off and rubbed the back of my neck. "I'm sort of spiraling out of control right now and I don't want you to get caught up in it."

"Well, I am, and more importantly Shaw is, and I'm not down with that at all."

I cringed. "I'm sorry."

"For what? For ruining my barbecue? For making Shaw cry for no reason? For calling my relations.h.i.+p a mistake? For getting wasted and acting stupid all the time? For ignoring Mom and Dad? For getting your a.s.s kicked by a bunch of bikers and calling Nash and not me? Narrow it the f.u.c.k down, Rome. What exactly are you sorry for?"

d.a.m.n, this wasn't my carefree and I don't give a s.h.i.+t about anyone brother. This was a serious-as-all-get-out young man who was rightfully p.i.s.sed, and it was all directed at me. I sighed and I hung my head. Ever since the twins could walk, I had felt like they were mine to protect, mine to guide in the right direction, and mine to help groom into the men they were supposed to become. I didn't know if it was because Rule was such a troublemaker and always flitting from one catastrophe to the next, or because Remy was so coddled, so babied and in real danger of becoming a pansy, that I was so invested in their care, but whatever the reason, their well-being had always been my top priority and I felt now like I had let both of them down.

"All of it. I'm sorry for all of it. It's been rough trying to settle back into civilian life and I'm sucking at it. I shouldn't be taking it out on you guys. I know it, but I can't seem to stop it."