Page 7 of Right Next Door (Stone Family #3)

Ian

I n the days since I sat with Nicole while she cried over her cinnamon roll, I’ve thought of little else.

Of the way her enormous blue eyes shone with tears and how those wispy strands of walnut-colored hair floated around her temples.

It’s not as if I hadn’t noticed her before; I always had.

I couldn’t not when she worked right next door to my shop, stretching those lithe limbs of hers to hang decorations in the window of her bookstore.

But now, I can’t fucking stop noticing her.

How she always starts the day with her hair up in some kind of twist or ponytail, but by the time she walks out the door, it’s down.

Or how she takes a break every afternoon to pick up a tea from Cuppa Jo.

Not to mention how she writes cute little quotes on the sandwich board sign she sets out every morning and takes in every evening whenever she closes up.

Although at this point, she’s at Chapter and Verse more often than she’s not.

Nicole took over ownership of the store after her aunt moved to Maine. It was no secret that was always going to happen, but I recall a time when Nicole was nervous about the handoff. Thinking she wouldn’t be able to handle it. I always knew it would be fine. She would be great.

It’s also no secret her husband is a fucking punk. At least, not a secret to me. Anybody who takes a smart and beautiful woman for granted doesn’t deserve her in the first place.

Having finished my latest tattoo appointment, I fill my aluminum water bottle from the dispenser in the corner as I coast my attention around the shop.

My home.

My kids.

They’re all in their early twenties—and my greatest accomplishments by far.

My eldest, Jasper, works on a piece at his station in the corner, while Jaybird, my middle son, and his best friend, Cash—my adopted third son, for all intents and purposes—watches something on an iPad, while my daughter, Juniper, and her best friend, Riley, whisper at the reception desk.

Sloane, the lone female tattoo artist here, busies herself by cleaning up her work area.

It’s a little after four, a rare downtime between appointments.

Most of our clients are booked out months in advance, but we also take some walk-ins for smaller art.

Lately, there’s been a rise in small, cartoonish pieces.

Something college kids will come in and pick out of a book or the kinds of matching tattoos best friends or married couples get.

The mere thought of a married couple slingshots me back to Nicole in my mind, and I lean against the reclaimed wood counter, rapping my knuckles to Gwen Stefani singing “Just a Girl.” It’s Riley’s turn to be in charge of the soundtrack today.

As I sip my water, I observe a few passersby on the sidewalk, which will become more crowded once people clock out of their nine-to-fives. That’s when we hit our busiest time of day, evenings and weekends. But for now, I enjoy the quiet.

And the sight of Nicole strolling down the street with a to-go cup in her hand. Right on time.

Today, she’s in a gray T-shirt dress that’s wide and hangs down to her knees, almost as if she’s trying to hide everything underneath.

Drives a guy wild imagining it. Especially because everything that is showing is so pretty.

All that creamy golden skin and toned legs capped off in sandals that display a thin ankle bracelet that makes my brain sputter to a stop whenever she wears it.

Everything about her is so dainty. She’s fine spun silk, from her slightly upturned pixie nose to her smile that seems so fragile. Yet there are so many more layers to her that I’d love the opportunity to peel back.

I know she grew up in Gainesville, Florida, the youngest in a family of all boys, and from being Juniper’s parent, I understand how tough that can be for a girl.

I also know she’s kindhearted and quiet but is always the first to volunteer for community events, heading charity drives.

The first one to arrive to set up tables for festivals.

She genuinely loves living here and cares for all her neighbors.

So I don’t know what the hell she sees in Bryce, who crawls out of whatever hole he lives in once or twice a year to pretend he’s above it all. I have a feeling he doesn’t appreciate how well-loved she is.

A jealous motherfucker.

Then again, I would be jealous if she were mine.

Jealous with her.

Not of her.

I watch Nicole as she tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear. She stands on the sidewalk, unmoving. I can’t be sure, but I think she’s staring at my shop.

Curious, I smile to myself, waiting to see what she’ll do. No Doubt ends, and “Dreams” by The Cranberries picks up—Riley really does have the best musical tastes out of all the kids—as Nicole straightens her shoulders and crosses the street, heading straight for Stone Ink.

I force myself to stay still, relaxed against the counter, when she opens the door. Her eyes widen when she sees me, as if she didn’t expect anyone to be waiting for her.

“Hey, Nicole.”

She steps inside so the door can close behind her. “Hi.”

“How’re you doing?”

She nods, her attention behind me, checking out the black-painted walls adorned with framed photos, showcasing a diverse range of our tattoos and piercings. I like the way she studies everything carefully, her gaze sweeping over each detail with an almost scholarly interest.

She does everything carefully. It’s evident in the way she moves and speaks, slowly and precisely, choosing each word and action with care.

The way she navigates her world, following the rules and doing what’s expected of her, I can’t help but wonder what it would take for her to let go, to let herself be free, even just for a moment. I bet she’d be captivating.

I want to captivate her.

I want to be captivated.

Behind me, Riley and June perk up. Even though the bookstore is right next door to us, I can count on one hand the number of times Nicole has been in here, and I would still have a few fingers to spare.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” June makes her way around the desk to greet our visitor. My daughter, the social butterfly. “You’re finally here for a visit!”

Nicole lets Juniper push her farther into the shop while Riley leans her elbows on the counter. “Or are you here to finally get something done?”

Riley’s our admin, social media guru, and does all of our piercings while she’s finishing her marketing degree. She and June both attend the university.

“I’m actually here to talk to Ian,” Nicole says a bit too timidly for my liking, and my daughter shoots me a look of surprise. I’m not a monk, far from it, but I keep my exploits well away from the shop and Aster Street. Gossip spreads fast around here.

“Go make yourselves busy,” I suggest, and the two young girls barely conceal their curious gazes as they head to the break room, leaving Nicole and me alone.

“So, how are you, really?” I start when she doesn’t, probably second-guessing her decision to come in here.

Her throat bobs on a swallow, and it’s too tempting to stare at the freckle on the right side of her throat, under her jaw. Instead, I set down my water bottle and lean back against the counter, crossing my arms and ankles.

“I’m okay. I, uh… I just wanted to tell you… I agreed.”

I freeze. “You agreed?”

She keeps her focus on her cup, her thumb repeatedly rubbing over the edge, her nails painted a light purple. A matching set of rings still on the fourth finger of her left hand. She clears her throat, flicks her eyes up to mine. “To the open marriage.”

I attempt to keep my expression neutral, even as my blood rushes in my ears and not unexpectedly to my cock. Not that anything is going to happen between us. But, shit. Nicole is beautiful and available now.

At least, in theory.

Fearing she might pass out for how her knees are knocking together, I guide her to sit in one of the leather chairs in front of the window.

“And?” I motion for more information.

“And…” Her gaze darts all over the place, anywhere except me. “I don’t know why I did it. I… I think not agreeing would have been worse, but now I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. No is a complete sentence.”

She nods, but I can read the uncertainty in her eyes. “I know. It’s just… I’ve never really done anything like this before. I don’t know where to start.”

If she’s expecting me to be her Mr. Miyagi, she’ll be doing more than waxing on and off, that’s for goddamn sure. But I try to offer her the support she needs anyway. “There’s no time like the present to start exploring.”

Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of red, and she covers her face with her hand. “Oh my god. Pretend I never said anything. This is so humiliating.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” I tug on her arm, lowering her hand from her face, and I duck down to meet her gaze. “You could wade into this. You don’t have to think about your marriage or sex or anything.”

Although, now I’m thinking about sex.

And from the way she stares at my mouth, maybe she is too.

“Start with something easy,” I tell her. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do, but never have? Travel somewhere or learn a new hobby, make a purchase…?”

“I’ve never really thought about it.”

I nudge her elbow. “Come on, there has to be something.”

She bites her lip, and I have to fight the urge to reach out and run the pad of my thumb over the soft skin there. “There’s something, isn’t there? Too afraid to admit it? You can tell me.”

She answers after a few seconds, both of us leaning into each other’s space. “I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo.”

“Yeah?” My imagination takes flight, and I immediately picture her naked, all her virgin skin on display for me to tattoo and do as I’d like. My newest fantasy, apparently.

“But the idea of being stuck with a needle over and over again is not something I’m really interested in.”

“I’m not going to lie, it’ll hurt, but it’s not too bad, depending where you get it.”

I can see her mind chewing on that information. Then she winces. “I’ve also been…” She closes her eyes and shakes her head, obviously uneasy about whatever it is. Eventually, she lifts her chin, her eyes shining with amusement. “I’ve been afraid to ask you about it. You’re kind of intimidating.”

“You’re intimidated by me?” Not gonna lie. Kinda turns me on to hear it.

She waves her hand up and down my body. “You’re covered in tattoos, and you look like you’ve fought a crocodile with your bare hands.”

A loud chuckle bursts out of me, one that startles even my kids. They all whip their attention to me. Probably because I’m not usually a big laugher. There are very few instances when I’ll let my guard down, and it’s only with my family.

And, apparently, Nicole Kelly.

“I really appreciate that,” I tell her in response to the crocodile-wrestler comment. “Thank you.”

Her answering smile is my new obsession. “You’re welcome.”

“If you want to get a tattoo, I happen to know a guy who can help you out with that. On the house.”

She thinks it over, her lip trapped between her teeth again. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you.”

I don’t know where those words came from, but they feel truer than anything that’s come out of my mouth in the last few years.

Her breath hitches, and I can see desire ignite in her eyes. Before either of us can say anything more, the sound of the door opening steals our attention, and Riley makes her way up to the front. “Hi. Welcome to Stone Ink. How can I help you today?”

I press my hand to Nicole’s lower back, escorting her outside. “I think you should come back tonight before you lose your nerve.”

“What time?”

“Come over after you close up. Then we can have the place to ourselves.”

Her smile is slow to grow, a little nervous but hella fucking cute. “Okay. I’ll see you tonight.”