Rome. Jay Crownover

hand over his short cap of hair, I noticed a nasty-looking gash that now decorated the side of his head.

      “What on earth happened to you?”

      He looked confused until his fingers grazed the shaved spot and the tiny metal sutures holding his scalp together.

      He slammed his hat back on his head and the grin that had been dancing around his mouth fell totally away.

      “Wrong place at the wrong time, I have a knack for finding myself there.”

      I didn’t understand how a guy who clearly had so much going for him—good looks, a loving family, hordes of people that cared about him, a successful career, and obviously a rigid sense of duty and honor—could be so unconcerned about his circumstances and his impact on those around him.

      I cocked my head to the side and regarded him closely. I didn’t know Rome from any other stranger on the street, but there was something about him, something strong and magnetic that I was having a hard time denying made me want to figure out what made him tick. Maybe it was the idea of having a distraction from how bummed out I was becoming the closer the date to Jimmy’s wedding got. Maybe it was because he was so ingrained in the lives of everyone I cared about. Maybe it was because he was just so much larger than life and impossible to ignore, but the longer we stared at each other the more my curiosity was piqued.

      I was going to tell him he should be more careful, when a heavy hand fell on the back of my neck and gave it a slight squeeze. I knew Rule well enough to take it as the warning it was: Don’t meddle. Rome didn’t need me trying to dismantle him and reassemble him in proper working order. He was a grown man and was going to have to find his way on his own.

      Rule’s client looked back and forth between the brothers with huge eyes and then at me, like I could explain why the room suddenly seemed full of tension and hostility, making it almost impossible to breathe. I forced a smile at her and climbed out of the chair.

      “Let me just check you out and get you paid up. Why don’t you two take the brotherly love outside before you scare the rest of the customers into leaving?”

      Rule gave the back of my neck another squeeze and let me go as he made his way around the counter toward Rome. The two brothers regarded each other stonily and Rule pushed out the glass front door without saying a word to his big brother. The antagonism passing between the two of them felt hot and heavy, which was a shame. They had already suffered the loss of one brother, they should be reveling in the fact they still had each other to lean on and give shit to. I had a hard time understanding how Remy’s secrets had done more to drive the Archer brothers apart than his actual death had.

      Rome gave me one last look that I couldn’t decipher. “They’re all lucky to have you.”

      I thought the same thing all the time, but it was weird hearing him say it in such an empty and hollow tone, like he was missing something crucial.

      “Well, I’m lucky to have all of them, too, and so are you, Captain No-Fun.”

      Those blue eyes got big and then blinked at me and once again that little half grin that turned him from a good-looking dude into someone that made my heart bump against my chest in an erratic rhythm lit up his face.

      “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 Ass 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 sunshine.

      “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 peacock 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 glass that faced Colfax and the Capitol Hill area of downtown Denver. Rome had his back to the glass 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