Protective Ink

Friends. Allies. Lovers?

Jackson Freeling lost his sense of purpose when he left the marines. Lissa McLaughlin gave him a new one: protecting a man with the ability to forge weapons from his tattoos. Together, they defend the innocent from the criminals vying for control of their city’s drug trade.

Lissa inked those tattoos. After watching her friend risk losing a piece of himself every time he used his powers, she decided to suppress her own strange gift. But, without quite understanding how, she has given Jackson a tattoo that lets him become invisible….

While Jackson and Lissa do their best to save their ally, they also fight the growing passion between them. Everyone they care about is in danger. And they have to decide whether their feelings for each other are a strength or a deadly weakness.

With this sequel, Misty Simon continues the bewitching tale she began with her urban fantasy debut, Wicked Ink.

Protective Ink

Misty Simon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

To anyone who has never risked it all for what's right under their nose. Go for it!

Chapter One

“So, this investor guy…” Jackson Freeling let the sentence trail off as he tried for the twentieth time in five minutes to get comfortable.

“Would you please stop squirming? I’m going to nick you with the tattoo gun and you will not be happy. I guarantee it.”

While Lissa McLaughlin continued to set up her instruments of torture, Jackson repositioned himself again in the old barber’s chair. Lissa had gone all out in preparation for opening her first tattoo parlor. She’d worked in other people’s establishments for years, so when she’d made noise about setting up shop for herself, it had been his bright idea to recommend that she move back to her old hometown to do it so that she’d be close to him and Garrett. Which was why she’d offered to give him the inaugural tattoo at her new shop, Wicked Ink. He only had himself to blame. But it felt good to have her back in town. He hadn’t seen her in a long time.

While Jackson certainly trusted Lissa with that gun of hers, he hadn’t been inked in almost twenty years. Not since Lissa gave him his first mark right before he went into the military—the standard United States Marine Corps insignia with the eagle, the world and the anchor. Over his decade in the service, he’d watched all of his buddies smack girls’ names on their biceps and American flags on their chests, but he’d never been tempted to go back for round two. His best friend, Garrett Blackwell, local unsung superhero, had a ton of tattoos and had been trying to talk him into getting another one for the past five years. Even that hadn’t changed his mind. Hell, he had enough battle scars.

But then Lissa had called him, sounding so excited, and offered to give him this tat as a gift—one that would get Wicked Ink off to a good start.… And even though his brain had wanted him to say no, his mouth had said yes. Saying no to this woman had never been easy for him.

And so here he was, trying hard not to be a wimp. Getting a tattoo wasn’t any worse than pulling shrapnel out of his ass, but it wasn’t going to be a massage, either. He remembered that much.

Why hadn’t she answered his question yet?

“The investor guy,” he prompted again.

“His name is Cameron DiMaggio and he’s a perfectly nice man. He contacted me after I went to the bank for a loan. I couldn’t get the whole thing financed and the loan officer asked if he could give my name to a new investor in the area. Of course I wasn’t going to say no. You’ll meet him at my grand opening tomorrow night, you nervous Nellie.” She paused and he held his breath as the low-level buzz of the tattoo gun filled the small shop before it suddenly cut off. “Just making sure everything works. Now, hold still while I shave the area. Your skin will have to be smooth for the transfer to work.”

He immediately jerked in the chair. “Wait, hold on. What transfer? We didn’t talk about me getting one of your ‘special’ tats, Lissa.”

She threw back her head and laughed, making her button-down shirt pull tight across her chest. He forced his eyes to find something else to focus on. Still, he couldn’t help but notice how incredibly smooth and graceful her neck was when she arched back to let out the full throaty sound. Just because he hadn’t seen her in years didn’t mean he hadn’t thought of her. She was the one who’d gotten away. Actually, the one he’d never pursued. By the time she was old enough, he’d been put on Garrett-watch. Helping his buddy turn his life around had been a full-time job at first.

Shaking his head like a dog wouldn’t get the traitorous thoughts to go away—besides she’d just yell at him for moving—so he closed his eyes and willed himself to think of something else. It had worked for years, but for some reason it wasn’t working today. Well, shit.