Mads searched his scruff-shadowed face, secretly grateful for this rare opportunity to drink him in without anyone thinking she was weird for staring. Maybe it was the set of those brooding, strong brows, or the contrasting soft blue of his eyes, but there was just something about his angular, unsmiling face that riveted her attention in ways she couldn’t begin to explain. Especially since she had no intention of getting close to anyone at House Of Payne.
After all, it wasn't like she had any idea if she was going to stay there on a permanent basis.
A short huff escaped him, leaving a vapor trail in the night. “So, what’s the verdict, Daniels? You coming or not? I'm not standing out here in this fucking frozen hell all night waiting for you to make up your damn mind.”
He just had to be the one who found her, she thought with an inward sigh. The guy who was her own personal kryptonite. No one else at the House tempted her to come out of her shell the way Sage McCormick did, so naturally fate just had to throw the charmingly grumpy-looking portrait specialist at her in her moment of need, just to trip her up.
Too bad she was untrippable.
“I appreciate it, but I’m good.” Reminding herself that keeping her distance from her coworkers hadn’t let her down yet, she took a half-step back. “Thanks any—”
The metal back door to House Of Payne opened at that moment, and the person she did everything she could to avoid—Sebastian Payne, the founder and lead tattooist of House Of Payne—stepped out into the frozen night.
Eeeeeeeek.
“Oh, hey.” Glancing at them in surprise, Payne took a moment to lock the door before crunching his way across the dirty snow and ice toward them. “I'm usually the last one here when it's time to close up. Everything okay?”
The moment she heard Payne’s voice, her already-formidable defenses slammed up stronger than ever. “Yeah, of course. Everything’s fine.”
“Everything is not fine.” Sage shot her look that clearly questioned her sanity before he returned his attention to Payne. “Daniels has a dead battery, so her car’s going to have to stay in the lot overnight. I'll change the battery out before my shift starts tomorrow, so no worries on that score.”
“Cool.” Payne nodded once before shooting her a questioning look. “You need a lift, Mads?”
“Sage is giving me a ride home.” No way was she prepared to be in an enclosed space with the man who had shaped so much of her world.
Not that he knew about that, but whatever.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sage’s quick glance, even as Payne nodded and tugged on a beanie with the House Of Payne logo on it. “All right, good to know you're covered. Call in tomorrow if you have a problem getting to work, and Scout will help you out with your schedule. Have a nice night, you two.”
“I can pick you up tomorrow if you want,” Sage said after Payne had gone. “Where do you live, anyway? I guess I should know that since I'm suddenly back to giving you a lift home.”
“Ukrainian Village. Sorry about that,” she added, again ducking her chin into her scarf. “I just, uh… I didn't want to bother Payne.”
“But you don't mind bothering me?”
That made her stiffen, and she turned away. “Yeah, good point. I'll just figure out what train I need to get—”
“I'm kidding.” He was in her path before she saw him move, and his gloved hands snapped out to clamp around her upper arms to hold her in place. “Geez, it was just a joke, Daniels. Relax.”
Mads’s skin prickled in humiliation as his words hit home. Shit. How many fucking times had she been told she was too sensitive? Her whole life seemed to be nothing more than one long string of moments where she was told that she couldn't take a joke.
Apparently she couldn't.
Especially when she was the punchline.
“Look, my ride’s right over here.” He gestured toward a fire-engine red Jeep Cherokee before digging for his keys. “Ukrainian Village, right?”
“Right.” Unsure if she should apologize for taking him—and the rest of the world—so damn seriously, she followed him to the Jeep. “Red, huh? I would have pegged you for a black or gray kind of guy, maybe even silver. But not red.”
“Why not red?” He clicked the locks and surprised her by opening the door for her like some courtly gentleman. “Red’s my favorite color,