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“No!” My shout caught us both off guard. I threw up my hands, then ran them through my hair as I tried to calm myself. “No. You remember how he was whenever we were in the same room. The endless teasing. And if a guy showed any interest in me? Ross was right there, scaring them away with his put-downs and intimidation. He made my early high school years until you guys graduated a living hell.” Gulping in several breaths, I ran out of steam.

Dammit, simply speaking about Ross had sent my nervous system back into overdrive. My brother probably thought I was being overdramatic. Possibly. But he needed to understand how I still felt about his best friend.

Jett’s expression had turned from concern to confusion before he blanked his features, his lips pressed firmly together in that way he often did when he was gearing up to debate me. Please, not this time. Even he couldn’t deny that Ross had an intense dislike for me in school.

“So nothing happened behind my back?”

“What? No, I just explained how it was for me. I guess seeing him again has just brought everything back full force.” I let my hands fall and cross over my middle, hoping the movement would settle me.

“Okay, okay. I get it, I think. And if you say nothing happened, I believe you. Thanks. Now, I won’t have to smash his face in when I see him.” Jett took another long look at the studio, then walked toward the front. “Looks great, sis. You should be super proud. I am.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.” I followed Jett and brooded. This was silly. I let my memories interfere with showing off my studio to my brother because I was proud of myself. My dream of owning this space had finally come true. And I was so done thinking about Ross London.

With his hand on the doorknob, Jett gave me another of his unreadable looks. “And hey, maybe give the guy a break now. Ross has been serving our country in a way none of us can understand. And he gave up a lot of his personal life to do it. And now that he’s back, we’ll both be seeing a lot of him. And I’d really like it if you two could be friends?”

Dammit. The last thing I wanted to do was cause any hard feelings between them. We were all adults, and the past was just that. I needed to get over it. Get over all these unresolved feelings for a guy who probably never gave me a second thought in all these years.

Jett was right, not that I’d tell him. It would probably swell his ego even more. I’d try my best. Sixteen years was a long time to hold a grudge against someone. And even longer to still be dealing with unresolved feelings.

But later that day as I locked up the studio, I found myself once again reliving the look Ross gave me and that electric handshake. Maybe it was time to accept what I was actually upset about?

I was still attracted to Ross, and I wanted him to see me as more than Jett’s little sister.

CHAPTER 5

ROSS

Three days after returning to Pineville, I parked my rental in the lot of Jett Ink. I took a moment to go through the speech I had planned. The one where I told my buddy how I felt about his sister.

But I was going to be smart about it. I didn’t want a pissed-off Jett with an ink gun in his hand. Because if he was angry once I told him about my intentions with Hannah, then there was a high chance that he’d royally screw me and leave me with a messed-up tattoo.

I remembered that this place had been a bar when it first opened, even before Jett and I were born. We even tried to use fake IDs once to get in during senior year. The inside of the tattoo parlor wasn’t what I expected.

The furnishings in the lobby were high-end. Black leather club chairs and heavy-looking walnut tables filled the space. Framed pictures lined the walls of famous people showing off the tattoos Jett had done. Including several past and current team members from the Idaho Outlaws baseball team that had relocated to Pineville about ten years ago. The team Jett had been forced to retire early from because of a career-ending injury to his knee.

The major league team had put our little hometown on the map, and the area had grown to almost become unrecognizable as I’d driven in from the airport. But at least the people were still welcoming.

At the reception desk, I asked for Jett, but before his employee could even turn around to let him know I'd arrived; a shout from the back rang out.

“Get your ass back here, London.”

“He always like this?” I asked the lovely blonde employee who had two full arm sleeves and a piercing in her eyebrow. An eyebrow that had lifted, disappearing under her bangs.

“No. And I’m glad I’m not you.” She returned my grin and told me where to go to find the source of the grouchy disembodied voice.

Jett was in the furthest room from the front, sitting on a stool next to an antique client chair. His tatted-up arms crossed over his chest, wearing an uncharacteristic scowl on his handsome face. I had no problem admitting that the guy was better looking than me, but it still rankled that he always ended up with more girls' phone numbers anytime we’d gone out.

And no matter how hard I tried, okay, maybe I didn’t really, but Jett always drew women to him with little effort. More than his good looks, he just had this thing about him that made women want to be around him. I knew he’d carried that on through college and into his playing days with the Boston Patriots, who’d later become the Outlaws.

I now wondered why Jett was still single. Whenever we caught up through the years, he’d mention girlfriends. A couple of them had been long-term relationships, well, at least for him. But I never knew why they ended. Out of all my friends, I thought he’d be married with kids long before now.

Unlike the reasons I was still single, which now that one of them was over and behind me, thanks Uncle Sam for the pension, the plan was to take care of the second. Very good care, in fact. Now, I just had to tell Jett without ending up in the ER.

“You want to tell me why my sister is all riled up about you being back in town?” Jett rasped, his voice even deeper than I remembered.

Whoa, that was spooky. I shrugged out of my leather jacket, tossed it on the bench next to the door, and settled into the torture chair. “I have no idea. Sounds like you do.” I left the paper with the design I wanted in my back pocket. I wasn’t going to let Jett anywhere near my skin today. Not with a sharp electric device, and not in his current mood.

“We may not have been around each other much over the years, but I recognized the look you gave my sister the other day.” He stood and then paced. Then leaned against a wall, crossed his arms and ankles. But his relaxed pose didn’t fool me. Jett’s narrowed gaze never wavered as I decided not to take the chair so I could face him.