Drawn Together Page 2

  “Awesome.” He kissed Poppy’s head and ran off.

  “I’m chopped liver to the food goddess and the baby.”

  Raven snorted. “Yes, that’s so obvious. No one loves you, Gillian. You may as well eat worms.” She’d had to explain that line to Gillian back when they’d first met.

  “Give me that baby. I’m her aunt.”

  “Fine. Jeez. I’ll see you later, Pop.” Raven kissed Poppy’s head and handed her to Erin, who immediately began to dance around and sing to her.

  “I’m so glad you came tonight.” Gillian smiled. “I don’t like it when you’re gone for so long.”

  Raven had been in Los Angeles and then stopped off in Honolulu for a while. She liked to roam. But she had people to return to in Seattle and found herself there more and more these days. She used to be gone for six months at a time and now she limited it to no more than a month.

  “I’ll be around for a while. Brody is down two people so I’ll be there for the foreseeable future anyway.”

  Gillian smiled. “Good.”

  She shrugged, not always sure what to do with that sort of positive attention.

  But Gillian got it. Much like Erin did. Gillian was an outsider. Had been for most of her life. She never pressed or got up in Raven’s face about anything. That sort of acceptance was . . . it was startling, and it filled something inside.

  “You know you’re welcome to come back any time to see Poppy. And me of course.”

  “All right. I’ll call you.”

  Gillian took Raven’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “See that you do.”

  “We’ve got to get going. Alexander knows Raven is coming over to give him a bath and read him a story. He’ll be mad if we’re late.”

  Gillian’s mouth tipped up into a grin. “Everyone’s so afraid of you. But they don’t know that underneath that bitchy exterior is all marshmallow.”

  “All that postpartum stuff has made you goofy. That and your prolonged exposure to the Browns.”

  Erin handed Poppy back to her mother. “Hasn’t done that to you.”

  “My bitchiness is bone deep. Even you people can’t change that.”

  Erin linked her arm through Raven’s. “Let’s go.”

  “Thank you both for coming. We’ll walk you out.”

  Adrian had been talking with Todd and Ben and the ever-so-delicious Jonah. But when he caught sight of his wife and daughter, his entire demeanor changed. Raven had to admit—to herself anyway— that having Poppy had changed him nearly as much as being with Gillian. He’d softened, even toward Raven.

  “I’ll meet you all back at the house.” Raven nodded at Erin, who waved. She turned and nearly bumped into Jonah.

  “Don’t forget to call me.”

  She smiled. “I won’t.”

  She put an extra bit of sway into her walk as she left. Didn’t hurt to show him what he wouldn’t be having that night.

  2

  He looked at his phone and her number for a while before he finally called. He’d dreamed of her, the delicious Raven, the night before. All lush curves and cat’s eyes.

  Jonah knew there was an element of danger with a woman like her. There were shadows in her gaze. She wasn’t an easy sort of person. He got that from the way some spoke about her.

  Then again, he wasn’t an easy sort of person either. He’d dated easy women. Both kinds. If he wanted that, it could be had without too much effort. But that had gotten him a broken marriage and single parenthood.

  He’d taken the last several years off from complications. He’d put his energy into raising his daughter, Carrie. She’d needed to finish high school and get prepared to leave for college. Her mother wasn’t any help.

  Though it had been difficult and he hadn’t had much time for more of a life than parenting and working, it had been good. Carrie was smart. Strong. She’d had her pick of schools and though he’d winced when she chose Harvard—across the country . . . and Ivy League was still across the country—he’d also been incredibly proud.

  He’d gotten used to being with her every day. Of getting up and having breakfast with her before she went off to school and he’d gone to work. The house was quiet now. Carrie was in Italy for her senior year of high school, having scored a spot in a prestigious art program.

  The answered phone brought his attention back.

  “Hello?”

  Her voice did things to him, low in his gut.

  “Raven? This is Jonah Warner.”

  “Why hello, Jonah Warner. I’ve got some designs for you to look at.”

  “Already?”

  “Of course. I said I would. I keep my promises.”

  He liked that quality.

  “Would you like to come to my house tonight?” he asked. “I’ve got a pretty busy day at work, but I’ll be home by seven. I can make you dinner as incentive.”

  “All right, that works.”

  He gave her directions and she hung up and he was still smiling when he walked into court twenty minutes later.

  “What are you smiling about?” His mother sent him a raised brow.

  “What isn’t there to smile over? It’s a nice day. I won in court not once, but twice today. My mother has shown up in the office unexpectedly. Spoke to Carrie earlier, she’s having a great time.”

  Liesl Warner wasn’t stupid. She narrowed her gaze but didn’t say anything else about it.

  “Did she mention if she’d received my package?”

  “She said it arrived Friday and to thank you.” His mother scared people routinely, as regularly as she breathed. But she loved her granddaughter and sent her care packages several times a month. It probably made them both feel better.

  “She sent me one too, with photographs as well. She’s got quite an eye.”

  Art was important in his family. They’d been raised to appreciate it. His mother collected it, as did Jonah and Levi. It was no surprise really that Carrie wanted to be a curator or go into museum and collection management.

  “Daisy has been a great deal of help.” That had been surprising as well. Levi’s hot young fiancée the artist had won their mother over quite handily. And she’d been supportive of Carrie as well. “I wasn’t sure about your brother for a while, but Daisy is entirely suitable. He’s far better behaved since they’ve been together. Have you noticed that? Now if they’d only actually choose a date to get married. My heavens, Jonah, what sort of engagement is it that lasts so long without a date?”

  Ha. He wasn’t going to touch that one. Not for all the money in the world.

  In fact, it was time for him to get out of there so he could stop at the grocery store on the way home. He promised dinner but realized he had an empty fridge.

  “I’ve got to rush.” He gathered up his things. “Is there something you needed?”

  He kissed her cheek on his way past as he turned out his light.

  “Your father and I are going to the symphony tonight. Would you like to join us for dinner?”

  “Not tonight. I’ve got some things to do. Have a good time though.”

  She looked him over again but didn’t say anything else.

  “I’m out of here.” Raven gathered her stuff up.

  Brody Brown, her friend and the owner of Written On The Body, looked up from his place just across from hers. “Whatcha up to tonight?”

  “Thanks to your recommendation, I’m meeting with Jonah Warner about a full back piece.”

  “Nice. I saw something between you at the engagement party. Did I imagine more than ink talk?”

  Brody knew her in ways less than a handful of people did. There was once a time when she could have let herself love him, and probably did, but she’d fucked it up. He liked to tell her she did it on purpose. But he’d been married for several years at that point. He and his beautiful wife had two kids and it fit him perfectly. He was still her friend. Always that.

  “There’s some chemistry.”

  Brody laughed then and she paused, co
cking her head. “What?”

  “Oh, just that from what I’ve seen and heard, he’s the kind of guy who likes what he likes, exactly how he likes it. Gonna be fun to watch you try to sidestep being owned by a guy like him.”

  “Pfft. No one owns me, Brody Brown. And I happen to like what I like exactly how I like it. So maybe we’ll be perfect for each other.” She sniffed. “But for now, it’s just a nice piece of work to do to pay the bills.”

  She waved over her shoulder as she left.

  She stopped home before heading out to Jonah’s house. She never used to have a place in Seattle. Or anywhere for that matter. She liked to house-sit instead. Kept her from feeling trapped. She traded out time in L.A. and Seattle mostly, did a few stints in Hawaii as well.

  But when Erin had gotten pregnant with Alexander she’d wanted to be there for her friend. She’d known how freaked out Erin was about having another baby after losing her daughter in such a tragic fashion. And then it had been a high-risk pregnancy. So Raven had bought a condo in Capitol Hill with a nice view of downtown and the Sound. Just a studio. It had a bed and her music and sketch pads and clothes and that was pretty much all she needed anyway.

  She got to spend time with Alexander, who she adored like crazy. She’d never been one for kids until he’d come along. And then she’d found herself really enjoying Brody’s daughters as well. Rennie, the oldest, who only stopped talking long enough to take a breath, and Martine, who had burst into toddlerhood and cracked Raven up.

  So she’d let herself put some roots down and it hadn’t felt bad at all. It had felt . . . all right.

  She checked her mail, finding little of interest, and recycled the junk before heading upstairs to change and get her sketches.

  Raven didn’t work from transfers. They felt constraining. But she did like to work from sketches. Row after row of neatly organized sketch pads lined her bookshelves and she found the one she needed to take over to Jonah’s that evening. She’d done several different styles so he could choose whichever he preferred from those.

  She took her hair down from the ponytail she’d had it in all day and brushed it out. Brushing her hair had been a soothing ritual for her for as long as she could remember. Every night, every morning, whenever she was stressed or scared.

  The clothes she had on were good enough for a long day bent over people doing ink. But. Well, she wanted to wear something pretty and sexy. Not too much of either. She liked Jonah. She hoped they’d end up naked and sweaty too. In the meantime, it wasn’t a crime to look good for a man of his caliber anyway.

  She’d mapped out directions online to his place so she found it easily enough. A nice neighborhood near the arboretum. His driveway curved a little up to the front of the house. Brick exterior. Lots of windows. Big lawn. His front door had a pretty knocker dealie on it.

  She only had to tap it a few times before he opened it and stole her breath. He’d been dressed up for the party, but this night he had on a worn T-shirt that hugged over a broad chest and Levi’s with bare patches on the thigh and at the hem. No shoes.

  His dark hair was a little tousled and he had a look. Oh my, that look. Like he was going to take a big bite.

  “Please, come in.” He stepped back and motioned her inside.

  She hesitated in the entry. There was a woman’s stamp on that entry. Interesting that the man bore no indication of a woman’s stamp at all.

  “Can I take your things?” Jonah indicated the sketchbook and her bag.

  “Oh sure.” She handed them over.

  Contrary to popular belief, she did have filters. A few anyway. She’d been working on it. Which is why she didn’t blurt out the question she was dying to have answered about who had decorated the entry.

  She didn’t get involved with married men. She didn’t have a lot of rules about her sex life, but that was one of them. She did not break her personal rules.

  “Come through. Would you like a beer or a glass of wine? I hope chicken is all right. I should have asked if you were a vegetarian.”

  She followed him, checking out that ass and the broad expanse of his back. He’d look mighty fine with ink.

  “Do you have other tats?”

  “I do. Three others.”

  “Beer, please.” She sat at the large island in the kitchen, watching him pull the beer from the fridge and crack it open. He had nice hands. Big. He moved with ease in his space. Though she’d seen him at the party and he moved with ease there too.

  Confident.

  He handed it over once he poured it into a glass and then clinked it with his.

  “Chicken is fine. Who did your other work?”

  “Two of them I got in Boston. The other in San Diego. How many do you have?”

  “Six. Brody did them all. He’d kill me if I got them from anyone else.” She snorted. “We’re territorial, you know. Tattoo artists.”

  “Don’t report me then. We’ve got about half an hour until the food is ready. Want to go out back? I picked up some appetizer-type stuff. You can show me the sketches while we have our beer.”

  He took her elbow and steered her out, not really waiting for her answer. But it wasn’t rude, it was more . . . in charge.

  Out back was a gorgeous deck overlooking the water and the lake beyond. He indicated for her to sit on a couch so she did. “This is pretty swank.”

  He nodded. “I can’t complain. We used to live on the Eastside, but Carrie, my daughter, wanted to go to a high school over this way. She liked being able to help me decorate this place. Our old house . . . well, it wasn’t hard to move.”

  That answered her question about who’d put the female stamp on the entry. “The mother?”

  He was quiet a while. She figured that if he didn’t want to talk about it he wouldn’t.

  “Yes. It was a house I bought for my ex-wife as a wedding present.”

  “What’s that story?”

  She drank her beer and sat back, looking out over the yard and the view.

  Jonah wasn’t used to people asking him really personal questions like this. Sure, his nosy mother and his brothers, who really had no manners when it came to family stuff. But not strangers.

  It was oddly freeing.

  “She left.” He shrugged. “It was okay for about eight years. We had some good times. But she wasn’t happy after that.”

  “What about your daughter?”

  “My ex wasn’t happy as a mother either.”

  A look flashed over Raven’s face. Rage. And then it was gone. “She walked away from her kid or did you take your daughter from her?”

  He started. “Do I seem that type to you?”

  “People are seldom what they appear to be.”

  “That’s pretty jaded.”

  “That’s pretty reality. I don’t know you that well. You clearly have a lot of money and you’re not used to hearing no. Would you be the first rich powerful dude in history to railroad the wife to snatch the kid just because he could?”

  Put that way . . .

  He blew out a breath. “I’m not an asshole. No. I didn’t snatch my daughter. But I would have if I needed to. My ex is far happier with my money than our kid. She walked away. Carrie was twelve so she made the choice to stay out here. Her mother lives on the East Coast.”

  “She sounds swell. Your ex I mean.”

  He paused and then laughed. “She’s missing out on the best thing in the world.” Jonah shrugged. “I can’t pretend I understand it. It used to make me mad.”

  “Why not relieved? I mean, I know people who’ve gone through hellish custody battles. It sucks she’s a twat and doesn’t give two shits about her kid. But it sounds to me like your kid is better off without her mom in her life. Just because someone gives birth to you doesn’t mean they’re your fucking mother. Being a mom, or a dad for that matter, is more than biology.”

  “There’s a story.”

  “Everyone has a story.” She pulled a big pad out. “Here are some of the de
signs I worked up for you.”

  “I’d rather hear your story.”

  She sent him a raised brow and he liked it. A lot.

  “Fine. But as you noted, I don’t like being told no.”

  Her smile sent a shiver through him. “You’ll get used to it.”

  He took her hand, turning it to press a kiss at her wrist. She smelled good. Warm. He liked the pleased surprise on her face and the indrawn breath.

  “Or maybe you could get used to telling me yes.”

  “You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?”

  He nodded. “I’m told it’s a flaw. I’ll try to be worth it.” This woman was a challenge, yes. But one he had every intention of undertaking. He wanted in.

  “Hm.”

  He grinned as he sat back, taking the sketchbook and opening it.

  “Wow. These are incredible.”

  And they were. Such a range of styles and designs.

  She scooted closer. “This one.” She pointed to a design with multiple wolves. “Could go from your lower back up to your shoulder. I’d need to see where your other tattoos are to figure out how to integrate if they’re close to your back.” She turned the page. “This one would fit nicely square in the center.”

  Stunning. Concentric circles of design that built to create the image of a wolf head.

  “It’s more Celtic. The first is more Nordic.”

  There were others, but his attention kept returning to those first two. “Which do you like best?”

  “You’re a big man. Imposing. Intense.” One shoulder lifted. “I like to see the skin where the tat would go. What your musculature is like. A bold tattoo needs to sit just right.”

  “Are you trying to get me naked?”

  She smirked. “I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait.”

  He pulled the T-shirt off and she hummed. That hum was a caress.

  She stood. “I need you up so I can get a better look.”

  He obeyed, staying very close. She didn’t move away. Instead she looked up into his face. “Goddamn.”

  As compliments went, it was a pretty good one.

  She circled him, near enough to brush the heat of her body against his skin. Her palms smoothed over his shoulders, across his back, down his spine. She traced the tattoo on his right shoulder.