“It’s fine, Con. I’m good. He was just leaving.” A second dismissal. And it blew.
Con looked at me, his eyes not giving anything away. He glanced down to the tattoo on the inside of my forearm. “We touch up work for vets for free. Come on back anytime—before you start tipping ‘em back.” He jerked a chin toward the sign. I stared at his hand curling around her waist. It was too familiar to be an act. They looked like a perfect couple. All ink and fuck you attitudes.
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” I turned and walked away. I told myself it was for the best. She wasn’t for me. But those eyes …