“It is in my book,” Rosie answered. “There are drinks in the cooler in the back hallway—beers and soda—and some harder stuff and snacks lined up on the reception desk. You two help yourselves to whatever you want.
“Thanks—and don’t worry. We’re self-sufficient enough,” Layla said, giving her friend’s arm a squeeze. “You get back to hostessing.”
“I will, but there are a few people I want to introduce you to first. My cousin, Christi, is in town, and I’ve been dying for you all to meet. Come on. Finn can hold down the fort for me for a minute.”
She grabbed Layla’s hand and led her through the crowd, Duff sticking close by in that protective manner.
“Christi, come and meet Layla’s new man, Duff—he’s Jamie’s cousin from Edinburgh.”
Her man? Was that what he was? She didn’t think it was anything so official, but she was too momentarily stunned by the title to protest—it left her reeling a bit.
Duff shook hands with the tall, dark-haired shop owner and famous indie rock star.
“Great to meet you, man,” Christi said. “I need to come down and see the shop as soon as you’re open. I don’t know if anyone’s mentioned my love for a good Harley, but I’ll have some work for you as soon as you’re ready.”
“Good man. Come anytime.”
Christi grinned. “That’s an offer I can’t refuse.”
“Hello, Etta,” Duff said, taking the beautiful young woman’s hand and giving it a brief, respectful squeeze. “Nice to see you again.”
“You, too.”
Etta smiled shyly at Duff, then at Layla, then at Duff again, her lovely brown eyes lighting up, leaving Layla to wonder what Rosie had been saying about their relationship. Or was she wearing her ridiculous teenage giddiness over Duff on the outside for everyone to see?
Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find Kitty there, dressed in what she called her “power suit”—a waist-hugging corset in black satin with a deep blue damask pattern and a short black skirt. Layla hugged her friend, particularly happy to see her after the small shake-up she’d just had.
“Kitty!”
“Hi, honey. And this must be Duff. I’ve seen you before, but it’s nice to finally have a formal introduction.”
“Too formal to hug my girl’s best friend?”
“Of course not.”
As Duff pulled Kitty into his arms, Layla had to wonder at all the assumptions being made about her relationship with Duff. It had been a month, for God’s sake! She knew they’d been kind of inseparable lately, but first Rosie, then apparently Etta, and now Duff himself. Especially Duff. What did this mean, if anything? Or did he call every girl he was seeing his “girl”?
“Okay,” Kitty said, “which of these hot tattoo artists is single?”
“Um . . .” Layla looked around the room, spotting the enormous Caliph with his girl, Jennifer, the beautiful Declan and the lovely Sophie, as well as Eli the piercer with his partners, Rhonda and Burt. She’d always had a little thing for the darkly stunning Eli, but he was firmly and lovingly involved with his triad. “Honey, I think all the artists are taken. But there are plenty of guests. And you’re looking extra hot tonight—I’m sure you’ll have no trouble.”
“Well, then, I’m off to mingle for a few minutes. Be back after I get a drink and look around. But don’t think you’re off the hook that easily, Duff—you and I have to have a little Q&A before I’m able to approve you as acceptable company for my best friend.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Kitty grinned. “That’s right.” She winked at Layla. “I like that he knows his place in the hierarchy.”
After she’d wandered off, Duff leaned in close to Layla. “She’s a bit scary, that one.”
“You’d do well to be scared. There are Kitty claws behind the soft curves and blond hair, and she’s very protective of me.”
He leaned closer to brush a soft kiss across her cheek, then pulled back and caught her gaze with his. “So am I, princess.”
“I . . .” But she didn’t know how to respond.
What was happening here? What was happening to her? It felt as if she were giving too much over, even though it felt good. Hell, it felt amazing. And seeing all the happy couples among her friends at the party made something in her want the same. But she’d fucked that up pretty well before—what made her think she could really choose any better this time around?
But when she looked up at Duff and saw the undeniably smitten grin on his face, that last wedge of resistance melted. And right there, in the middle of the party, she tilted her face up to be kissed.
His kiss was soft, just a pressing of lips, then again, then a third time—just enough for her to temporarily lose herself, which was what always happened when this man kissed her. When he pulled back she had to silently order herself not to sigh aloud. But she sure as hell was sighing on the inside.
His hand went to her hair, and he tucked a stray curl behind her heated cheek. The expression in his hazel eyes was soft, as if diffused by twilight. But the sun had already set, and the lighting in the shop was bright enough to tattoo by. What was going on with him? What was going on with her?
“Hey, lovely girl,” he said, his tone low and husky.
“Yes, Duff?” she asked, breathlessly. Why had his voice, the words, made her heart flutter in her chest?
“It’s good to meet your friends. I’ve wanted to, you know. Because I—”
“Hey there, Layla!”
She turned to see the shop’s manager, Sassy, standing next to them with her hands on her softly flared hips, which were covered in snug black leather pants. Her hair—which was ever-changing—was black and orange for the occasion, and there was a wide smile on her face. Layla had always thought she was gorgeous, with her caramel skin nearly the same shade as her own and her wild hair. And her personality always shone through, making everyone adore her.
“Oh my God, Sassy—you are the only woman who could look this great after having twins.”
“My partners, Ian and Rafe, between them keep me on my toes—I swear my two men are more work than little Ethan and Lily are. Not that I really mind. They find the best ways to burn the calories off me.”