Cecilia didn't hear her studio door open over the music blaring through her headphones. She sat hunched over a drawing desk, her focus only on the paper in front of her. Minutes passed and she still failed to notice as someone moves behind her.

She pushed back from the desk, her stool rolling beneath her, her eyes locked on the drawing as her fingers and pencil drummed against her legs in time to the heavy beat pounding through her headphones.

She didn’t notice she wasn’t alone until a pillow from her day bed flew through the air and hit her on the side of the face.”

“FUCK A DUCK!” Cecilia shouted, spinning on her stool, and yanking her headphones off. Her eyes landed on the blue haired woman standing in her studio, “What the ever-loving fuck Franny!”

“You’re gonna go deaf one day CeCe.” Franny smiled, shrugging innocently, “You were in that special art place where your music is too loud and your so hyper focused you forget the world exists.”

Cecilia rolled her eyes, “And you’re here interrupting that because….”

“Your appointment is here. Time to work.”

Cecilia sighed; she had forgotten all about the appointment. She’d never met the man, but his many emails came off like a fussy, nit-picky, controlling perfectionist. She was understanding when his questions and micromanaging were about the tattoo itself but when he started asking about what kind of needles she used and the exact ingredients in the ink, she started to lose her patience.

Franny smirked at the expression on her friend’s face having heard many rants about this particular client and his ‘never-ending, anal retentive, controlling emails.’

“Trust me CeCe, he has some qualities I know you’ll appreciate.” Tapping her nose, Franny’s smirk widened, and she winked at Cecilia before turning and walking away.

Cecilia narrowed her eyes at Franny’s retreating back, try8ing to understand her vague comment. Making her way down the stairs and to the front room she took a few deep breathes, centering herself and putting on a more professional demeanor. She spotted Franny at her desk, typing on her phone, her eyes occasionally flicking toward the other person in the room, standing looking out the picture windows.

He was tall, taller than Cecilia’s own 5-foot 10 height, 6’3 if she had to guess. His shoulders were broad and tapered into a lean waist. He was built like a professional athlete of someone who had done manual labor all his life. As he rolled his shoulders, the ripple that went through the muscles along his back showed through the light grey dress shirt he wore.

His auburn hair was cut close along the sides and back but was slightly longer on the top. Cecilia could tell from his profile that he was handsome with a strong jaw, his facial hair was present, a few days growth at most. He had handsome features and a masculinity that made her think of Vikings and Scottish highlanders.

As she walked closer to him she could smell a new scent in the air, a combination of sawdust, spices and fresh mountain air. The scent made her mouth go dry and she had to struggle not to moan with pleasure. Cecilia knew it was his scent and she had a sudden urge to climb him like a tree, wrap her legs around his waist and bury her nose in his neck.

Pushing that desire back she stepped closer, “Mr. Steinson?”

He turned at the sound of her voice if she thought his profile was handsome, the full view was even better. She caught a hint of moss green eyes before focusing on a point just behind his head, careful not to make eye contact.

“No need to be so formal. Please, everyone calls me Hammer.” He had a hint of an accent, Irish most likely, maybe Scottish. He flashed a heart stopping smile at her.

Cecilia grimaced internally hoping his parents hadn’t actually named him ‘Hammer’,

“I’m Cecilia, if you want to follow me Mr. Steinson, we’ll get you tattooed.”

His head tilted slightly to the side, a frown forming on his lips and she knew what was coming next. “I thought my appointment was with Lawson. Is he not coming?”

“It is.” Cecilia sighed pinching the bridge of her nose, “I’m Lawson. This is my shop.”