Leather Love and Tattoos Read online

  Leather, Love and Tattoos

  ❦

  Book One of an Inked Romance

  Anne Darling

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  Copyright

  About the Author

  Also available from Anne Darling and FriesenPress

  When One Door Closes

  To my dad (the one true Quincy),

  You never had a chance to see what I could accomplish with a laptop, but I know you would be proud. I miss you.

  Chapter One

  The hot summer sun heated up the afternoon to a blistering thirty-four degrees Celsius. The rain the night before had done nothing to decrease the thick humidity that hung in the air like a wet blanket, making Valleyville, a small town in southwestern Ontario, feel more like a sweltering forty-two degrees. Although the summer season was relatively short north of the 49th, the villagers, as they like to be called, complained about the summer heat all the time, but not Abby Pearce. She loved the long, hot sultry days of summer, and today was no exception.

  She’d been spending her day off sunbathing in the backyard but when she heard Cole’s big truck rumble into his driveway, that was her cue to go talk to her bad-boy biker neighbour and maybe do some flirting.

  She wrapped her sarong around her waist, corrected her bikini top to maximize her cleavage and paraded herself out to the side of the house where their driveways ran parallel. Abby was cautious to be friendly but not too flirty or bimbo-ish. The bikini was more than enough to convey her intent. After the usual exchange of pleasantries and salutations, Abby made her way inside her house having made no headway in her attempt to win Cole’s heart.

  The air-conditioning was working hard to barely cool her century home, but it didn’t matter; she wasn’t inside just to cool off. The brief exchange on the driveway wasn’t enough to satisfy her desire—she needed more. Abby walked over to her kitchen window and slowly pulled back the curtain so she could enjoy her other favourite pastime; ogling Cole. Others referred to this kind of behaviour as spying and even stalking, but as far as Abby was concerned, it wasn’t really stalking until they caught you. God, I’m such a sucker for a bald head and a tattoo, she thought.

  Abby sucked in a deep breath and let it out very slowly as she patted her chest, miming the fast beat of her heart. She was twenty-five years old but right now she felt more like a teenager with a secret crush. Cole Fletcher was the reason for her adolescent behaviour and was worth every skipped heartbeat.

  Unlike Abby, Cole wasn’t hiding indoors. He’d just got home from his construction job and was working on his motorcycle and driving Abby crazy. There was no easy way to describe him. He worked hard, leaving early in the mornings for work and coming home late. He lived a simple, modest life, but seemingly by choice. He didn’t seem too interested in worldly possessions but definitely enjoyed his toys. He valued the little things in life and didn’t take himself too seriously. Simply put, he was the most kind-hearted, gorgeous man Abby Pearce had ever laid eyes on.

  Right now he was filthy, covered in dust from work, and soon there would be grease and oily grime from his bike too. From the toes of his scuffed biker boots to his rippling abs, smooth muscular chest and his bald, sweaty head, he was sexy from top to bottom and every woman’s wet dream. He reminded her of a more manly version of one of those shirtless models that appear on the cover of those cheesy romance novels she was not embarrassed to say were her addiction.

  Regardless of the AC, Abby felt flushed. She turned and leaned against the counter, taking a long, cool sip of lemonade in the hopes of bringing down her core temperature, but it didn’t work. Abby smiled as she thought about how her life had changed since the first time she’d met Cole Fletcher. He instantly became her obsession even though she knew her father would believe he was below the calibre of man she deserved. He believed men like Cole came from the other side of the tracks and were beneath him. He wouldn’t consider Cole to be forbidden fruit, but more like the rotten fruit that had fallen to the ground.

  Abby was raised in an upper-class family, and her father had expected her to date men from the same social strata, like investment bankers, doctors and lawyers. Men of wealth and privilege that would never think of marring their flawless, over-moisturized skin by getting a tattoo. Men that would never roll up their sleeves to do manual labour in fear they would chip a nail. They would rather hire a man like Cole to do an oil change or remodel a room than lift that well-manicured finger to complete the task themselves. Lately, Abby had found herself bored with the type of man she habitually dated. After her immediate physical reaction to Cole, Abby knew she was no longer interested in pampered, spoiled men. She wanted a strong man that would wrap his powerful arms around her and take care of her every need … and that was Cole.

  He was the strong man she desired. He’d bought the fixer-upper next door to her a few months ago. When Abby met him for the first time in the early days of spring and heard his deep, raspy voice, he quickly became the starring role of her very adult dreams. He was six foot two, with broad shoulders, and the summer heat revealed tattoos covering his smooth torso and down both muscular arms. He was all man, and Abby dreamed about having his hands slowly caress her body and being held in his arms for comfort. She desperately wanted to run her fingers over his body and trace his tattooed muscles. Abby wondered if he had any other tattoos on his body that she hadn’t yet seen. She sighed as she turned back to continue breaking a few more stalker laws. Abby considered Cole to be worth the risk of the restraining orders. Besides, she was pretty sure Cole was completely unaware he was being ogled.

  He was still on his driveway working on his bike. The sun was beaming down on him, causing him and the chrome on his bike to gleam. Abby appreciated how cool the bike looked, but at this very moment she was more interested in how Cole looked. If Abby didn’t know better, she would have said he’d gotten sexier in the short amount of time she’d been looking away. He was wearing a black T-shirt that fit him like a second skin, accentuating every muscle in his strong arms and chest. With each passing minute, his shirt became more and more fitted as the sweat glued it to his well-toned back. Abby gasped as he reached back and pulled off his shirt. He tied it around his head, which provided Abby with an unobstructed view of a very sweaty, shirtless Cole in a pair of well-worn jeans. There were no words to describe how sexy he looked and how well he filled out a pair of Levi’s. Abby’s fantasy took over and she imagined him pouring cold water over his overheated chest and how the water would run down over his six pack and past his button fly. She took another sip of lemonade, but her heart still raced, and her temperature still soared. If only she had a reason to go over there again and talk to him right now.

  She glanced at the clock on the stove and realized she’d been staring for the better part of an hour. Time really did fly by when you were having fun—or stalking your neighbour. Her best friend, Beth, who h
ad also spent some time watching Cole from the window with Abby, once joked that it’s not stalking when they know your name. For Abby, knowing her best friend also enjoyed her extra-curricular activity was just another check in the “Cole is awesome” column. She was pretty sure her sneaky tactics of pulling back the curtain only a little so she could see out but no one could see in was working. Cole showed no reaction that Abby was staring today or any other day she hung out in her kitchen.

  Harley, Abby thought with a chuckle. A few months ago, she wouldn’t have been able to tell you that Cole rode a Harley. She would have only known it to be a “two-wheeled death trap.” But since Cole had moved in, Abby had taken an active interest in all things Cole. She’d found out he had a Road King 88 Twin Cam. The pipes were aftermarket. A common mod was to swap out the chain-driven cams for gear-driven cams and put on a big bore kit. One day she would learn what a cam and big bore kit was. Heck, Abby didn’t even know if aftermarket was a brand name or just something that was bought after. She spent her very lonely nights researching on the internet everything she could about motorcycles.

  Beth had told Abby she was crazy to fall for a man like Cole. “Abby,” she would say. “I agree he’s sexy to the extreme but if after a couple of months you haven’t gotten past obligatory greetings, maybe he’s not interested and you should move on to someone else.” Although Abby knew she meant well, the words came across as very critical. Abby explained to Beth many, many times that she wanted passion more than a provider. Someone strong, confident and capable; someone like Cole. No, not someone like Cole; Abby wanted Cole.

  Beth thought Abby was obsessed and that it was an unhealthy reaction to her neighbour—Abby disagreed. She knew her love was one-sided for now and she was not the type of women a guy like Cole would normally chase after. Abby wasn’t the typical Daddy’s little princess, but she was still Daddy’s little princess, nonetheless. She wouldn’t give up on Cole, and eventually he would notice she was the right kind of woman for him. She knew in her heart that if she stayed positive, he would realize they were meant to be together and then he would fall madly in love with her.

  Abby was truly invested in her plan. She had a three-pronged approach. The first part was looking the part, so she went out and bought the denim and leather biker clothes she’d seen on TV and in magazines, but she hadn’t had the nerve to wear them yet. There were two obstacles she had to get over first. One, the leather skirt was waaay too short and showed off parts of her body that Abby was pretty sure she hadn’t even seen. She knew she had nailed the look because she had seen women wearing the same clothes on bike week and rally websites she surfed during the long, lonely nights that followed bad dates with stuffed shirts. If she wanted to fit in with Cole and his crowd, she needed to get over her nerves and finally squeeze herself into her new clothes.

  The second and probably the most difficult obstacle to her happiness was her father. Matthew Pearce wasn’t the kind of man that would accept the biker lifestyle into his world of privilege. He definitely wouldn’t condone his princess wearing such revealing clothes; he would freak out if he caught her dressed in leather. Furniture and cars wore leather in his world. But Abby knew she couldn’t worry about what her father would think. She’d long ago decided she was a grown woman with her own opinions and was going to decide her own future. Her father was just going to have to deal with it.

  The final part of her “make Cole fall in love with her plan,” and maybe the most important part, was learning all she could about motorcycles. Looking the part was one thing but understanding and being able to carry on a conversation was another. She wanted to be able to use the correct terminology when she spoke to Cole and actually understand what she was talking about, so she read magazines and watched TV shows so she could learn as much as she possibly could about bikes. She wanted to impress him with her knowledge and not look like a poser—she learned that term off the internet too. She didn’t want to look like she was pretending to fit in. She wanted to belong.

  But her new knowledge and clothes hadn’t done her any good yet. He didn’t see her walking the walk in the clothes or hear her talking the talk about bikes. She needed to work up the nerve to wow Cole. Abby had made several attempts to get a reaction out of him, but he acted like she was just his neighbour. He was always very polite to her, but he never pursued her and never gave the impression she could be a possible love interest. She was the one that always had to instigate the conversation. He never once came over to her house, started a conversation or even waved at her first. The fact that he always seemed to keep her at a distance upset Abby. He acted like he was married or already had a girlfriend, but she’d never seen a woman at the house.

  Abigail Pearce was a determined girl and she was not going to give up. She had tried everything she could think of to gain Cole’s attention. One afternoon she brought him freshly baked cookies still warm from the oven, but still nothing. She was surprised the cookies didn’t work. Her mother always told her a way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.

  That’s when she decided to take her pursuit to a new level and give him a preview of what she had to offer. She was stepping out of her comfort zone but she needed to catch his attention. When she sunbathed in the backyard she made sure she wore her skimpiest bikini. Abby figured Cole saw her, though she couldn’t know for sure. Once, she had noticed the curtains open in the back of his house. His house layout was the same as hers so it would have been his bedroom, but still nothing. Abby was practically throwing herself at him and he didn’t seem to notice her.

  She was running out of ideas, and she was beginning to get disappointed. Her resolve was starting to waver. She was going to have to step up her game and get to know him better before it was too late.

  Cole stood up and stretched, arching his back. Abby stopped evaluating her past efforts and snapped back to the current obsession. During the time she’d reminisced, Cole had continued to work on his bike with his shirt off. It should be illegal to look the way he does, she thought. Cole worked in construction, and although the world has experienced advances in gender equality, construction jobsites were still predominately men. This was a good thing because nothing would ever get built with him around if women made up half the workforce. Just imagine the number of workplace accidents that would occur. Damn, Abby loved a man that worked with his hands.

  She was mesmerized by his bulging muscles. Oh yeah, she definitely appreciated a man that did manual labour. She wondered what it would feel like to run her hands up and down his sculpted, tattooed chest … strong thighs … firm, supple ass. Abby quickly shook her head from side to side to clear the vivid fantasy from her imagination. Thinking about what she wanted to do to him could wait until she was alone in her bed. Right now, she had to think of ways to impress Cole and show him just what kind of woman she really was.

  Abby was a hopeless romantic and believed in fairytales. She knew one of these days her dreams would come true and Cole would finally realize not only was he the right man for her but that she was the woman of his dreams, and they would fall madly in love and live happily ever after.

  Chapter Two

  Cole couldn’t concentrate on the braided brake lines he was attempting to install on his Road King Custom. If he wasn’t careful, he would hurt himself and he knew who to blame if he did: Abigail Pearce, the typical girl next door was staring at him—again. Cole figured his hot neighbour was unaware that her way of sneakily staring at him from behind her kitchen curtain wasn’t working; he could see her. It stoked his ego to have such a great- looking woman interested in him, but he had to keep reminding himself she was a friend—nothing more. He had put her in that category from the first time he’d seen her.

  Even though Cole only considered her a friendly neighbour, it didn’t stop him from being distracted by those full breasts, her sexy pouty mouth and her beautiful, well-rounded ass. He would love to grab that ass and … Cole shook his he
ad to clear the X-rated image from his brain. It was bad enough that his lusty thoughts were the reason he was currently sporting an impressive erection, but the sexy images were also the reason he was currently undoing and then going to have to redo the brake-line job on his bike.

  Why did Cole move next door to the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen? This question had haunted him since he’d made the move. He’d seen other houses in other neighbourhoods and they were great but he’d fallen in love with this one the minute he opened the door. It was a bit of a fixer-upper that had been neglected for years by the original owners who were just too old to keep up the place. It wasn’t abused, it was just not maintained. He loved the layout, and of course the detached two-car garage with a workshop worked really well with his lifestyle. The real-estate agent had mentioned the local schools and shops, which was a bonus, but the agent clearly neglected to mention the sexy blonde that lived next door. Cole got a great price on the house. If the agent knew Abby was next door, he could have listed it for more.

  He used to live in a community across town where the demographic was largely made up of women between the ages of sixty-five to somewhere close to death. As the women were older than his mother, and in some cases his grandmother, he never found himself distracted over their breasts. His old neighbours were constantly trying to hook him up with a niece or a granddaughter. Cole knew they meant well but he had needed to move to a hipper neighbourhood with people his own age. He also knew he was disturbing them when he started up his bike all hours of the day. The saying goes—loud pipes save lives, which was true, but they also made lousy neighbours. It could be especially ignorant when his best pals Scott and Tim joined him for a ride. He had needed to move to a place with more action; a place where he could start his bike at 4:00 a.m. and no one would mind or bother to complain.

  His new neighbourhood was full of hipsters and vegans. There were weirdos with man buns, and everyone seemed to have a dog, but everyone was too cool to be the busybody or gossip. He was the black sheep of the street but everything about the house was perfect, including the beautiful distraction next door.