Rome: A Marked Men Novel Read online

  There was no denying the Archer brothers had won the genetic lottery. Whereas Rule’s good looks were camouflaged under self-adorned artwork and flair, Rome’s were totally in your face and impossible for all the girly parts of me not to notice. If the army wanted to guarantee the recruitment of every ninety-pound weakling from here to Brooklyn, all they needed to do was slap Rome Archer on their recruitment posters. He just emanated a sense of “take care of business” that was heady, and I shouldn’t have found it attractive, but I totally did. He was as gorgeous as he was annoying.

  I cleared my throat and clicked off the browser.

  “You look terrible.” And he did. He had a black ball cap on with a white Broncos logo on the front, but even under the shadow of the brim I could see that he had the shadow of a bruise under one eye and that the knuckles of the hands he had placed on the counter where he was leaning were torn up and covered in scabs. All that aside, his eyes were still the bluest blue I had ever seen and that tiny little grin did more to make him look like an actual, breathing human than I think a full-on smile ever could.

  The eyebrow under the scar twitched a little and he rapped his fingers on the marble that separated us.

  “You have really pretty eyes.”

  I blinked those eyes in surprise because I wasn’t expecting that. So far all this guy had shown he was capable of emoting was vitriol and angst. The compliment seemed out of left field.

  “Ahh … thanks?” My eyes were two different colors. The left was a bright, iridescent turquoise that was indeed really pretty, the right was a hazel brown that fluctuated between hot-cocoa brown to the color of espresso at any given moment. People commented on them a lot, but I never would have figured Rome to be one of them. In fact I think it was the first thing he had ever spoken directly to me. I was good with words, so I didn’t love that him being nice made me tongue-tied.

  “Do you think you can grab my brother for me? I need to talk to him really quick. I have an entire post–Independence Day parade of repentance I need to get through today.”

  I stared up at him in surprise. In my experience big, gruff ex-soldiers weren’t the type of guys who readily admitted accountability when they messed up. I wasn’t sure what to make of that, or really of him. I did know his looming presence and those too-blue eyes were making me kind of uncomfortable, but not in the he’s a big jerk kind of way, more in the I really want to see him without a shirt on kind of way.

  I cleared my throat again and looked back into the shop. Rule was wiping the clear goo on the fresh ink he used to protect the tattoo for the client until they got home. He was watching Rome and me interact with a frown on his face and I noticed that Nash and Rowdy all wore similar expressions. I didn’t know if the sour looks were directed at me or at Rome, but I didn’t like it either way and gave them all a glare back. I swiveled around in my chair and looked back up at Rome. He was watching me with a look of curiosity on his face and I almost wished I knew him better so I knew what it meant.

  “He’ll be done in like fifteen minutes if you want to hang out. He has another appointment right behind it, though, so try and keep the murder and mayhem to a minimum.”

  He snorted and pushed off the counter. I hated to admit it, but I couldn’t pull my gaze away from the muscles that were rippling along his huge biceps, visible under the sleeves of his black T-shirt. I wasn’t the kind of girl who was attracted to bulging muscles and a rock-hard physique, at least I never thought I was until I couldn’t pull my eyes off of all the sinew and flex that was Rome Archer. He was just too big, too much, and way too all-American to be sending all those kinds of tingly things running under my skin.

  “I’m not exactly sure why, but I feel like I should apologize to you as well. Even though I’m the one that ended up covered head to toe in beer.”

  I winced a little and tried not to squirm under the scrutiny of those piercing eyes. I tugged on my ear and looked away. The smooth surface of the plug in the lobe rubbed back and forth between my fingers.

  “I have a tendency to overreact at times, and you were being unbearable. Every one of those people loves you and has worried about you for years and years while you were gone. The least you can do is return that affection.”

  He had the good grace to look properly chastised, and when he took his hat off to rub a hand over his short cap of hair, I noticed a nasty-looking gash that now decorated the side of his head.

  “What on earth happened to you?”

  He looked confused until his fingers grazed the shaved spot and the tiny metal sutures holding his scalp together.

  He slammed his hat back on his head and the grin that had been dancing around his mouth fell totally away.

  “Wrong place at the wrong time, I have a knack for finding myself there.”

  I didn’t understand how a guy who clearly had so much going for him—good looks, a loving family, hordes of people that cared about him, a successful career, and obviously a rigid sense of duty and honor—could be so unconcerned about his circumstances and his impact on those around him.

  I cocked my head to the side and regarded him closely. I didn’t know Rome from any other stranger on the street, but there was something about him, something strong and magnetic that I was having a hard time denying made me want to figure out what made him tick. Maybe it was the idea of having a distraction from how bummed out I was becoming the closer the date to Jimmy’s wedding got. Maybe it was because he was so ingrained in the lives of everyone I cared about. Maybe it was because he was just so much larger than life and impossible to ignore, but the longer we stared at each other the more my curiosity was piqued.

  I was going to tell him he should be more careful, when a heavy hand fell on the back of my neck and gave it a slight squeeze. I knew Rule well enough to take it as the warning it was: Don’t meddle. Rome didn’t need me trying to dismantle him and reassemble him in proper working order. He was a grown man and was going to have to find his way on his own.

  Rule’s client looked back and forth between the brothers with huge eyes and then at me, like I could explain why the room suddenly seemed full of tension and hostility, making it almost impossible to breathe. I forced a smile at her and climbed out of the chair.

  “Let me just check you out and get you paid up. Why don’t you two take the brotherly love outside before you scare the rest of the customers into leaving?”

  Rule gave the back of my neck another squeeze and let me go as he made his way around the counter toward Rome. The two brothers regarded each other stonily and Rule pushed out the glass front door without saying a word to his big brother. The antagonism passing between the two of them felt hot and heavy, which was a shame. They had already suffered the loss of one brother, they should be reveling in the fact they still had each other to lean on and give shit to. I had a hard time understanding how Remy’s secrets had done more to drive the Archer brothers apart than his actual death had.

  Rome gave me one last look that I couldn’t decipher. “They’re all lucky to have you.”

  I thought the same thing all the time, but it was weird hearing him say it in such an empty and hollow tone, like he was missing something crucial.

  “Well, I’m lucky to have all of them, too, and so are you, Captain No-Fun.”

  Those blue eyes got big and then blinked at me and once again that little half grin that turned him from a good-looking dude into someone that made my heart bump against my chest in an erratic rhythm lit up his face.

  “What did you call me?”

  “Captain No-Fun.”

  He let out a chuckle that sounded rusty from lack of use and he shook his head at me.

  “Staff Sergeant No-Fun is more accurate.”

  I gaped a little in surprise that a sense of humor actually lurked somewhere under all the muscle and broodiness.

  “I call my dad ‘Admiral Ass Hat,’ he doesn’t really think it’s funny.”

  The scar on his forehead twitched again. “Your dad was in
the navy?”

  “Oh yeah. He was totally Popeye.”

  “Was he really an admiral?” There was a shade of respect in his tone.

  “Yep, so you can imagine how thrilled he was trying to rein me in when I was younger.”

  He chuckled again and this time it didn’t sound so much like it hurt him. His eyes glinted at me as he pulled the door open to follow Rule out into the Colorado sunshine.

  “I don’t know, Half-Pint, something tells me reining you in is probably a pretty good time.”

  I felt my next words die in my throat, and it occurred to me that I was openly flirting with a guy I had poured beer all over only a couple of days ago. Not to mention he totally wasn’t my type and so far from what my idea of what the perfect match for me was that it was laughable.

  I jerked my attention back to Rule’s client, who was still waiting to pay for the peacock design he had inked along her rib cage. She was watching me with what I could only describe as envy, so I coughed a little and tried to get back down to business. It bugged me that while I ran her credit card and went over the after-care instructions with her, my gaze kept wandering to the big panes of glass that faced Colfax and the Capitol Hill area of downtown Denver. Rome had his back to the glass and I could see Rule gesturing with his hands, and he had a look on his face that was intense and serious. It looked like this was a confrontation the boys needed to have a long time ago.

  “Here ya go.” I handed her the slip to sign and wasn’t surprised when she not only tipped 35 percent but also jotted her phone number down on the back of the slip. I would have given her a reproachful look or made some kind of snarky comment about it but she beat me to the punch.

  With a shrug she tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave me a rueful grin.

  “You have the best view in all of Denver in this shop, and every time I come back it gets better. I saw his girl’s name tattooed across his knuckles on his hand. If he won’t take my number, give it to the big guy, I’m not picky and he looks like he could use a good time.”

  She swept out of the shop leaving me feeling a mixture of irritation and something else I wasn’t sure of. It felt slimy and slippery and I didn’t like whatever it was at all. I was possessive over my guys, that much was true, but Rome wasn’t one of them, so I couldn’t justify why the girl wanting him to have her number made me want to pull out her hair strand by strand.

  Rome and Rule were still going at it when his next client showed up, so I set the guy up and had him fill out all his paperwork and stuff so that all Rule had to do was put the transfer on and do the tattoo. When I got back to the desk, Nash was sending his client on his way and had taken over my seat. He was watching me steadily out of those eyes that were way more lilac than blue. I crossed my arms over my chest, propped a hip on the desk, and met him look for look.

  “What?”

  He rubbed his thumb along the corner of his mouth and blew out a breath. “I need a smoke.”

  “I thought you were trying to quit.”

  “‘Trying’ is the operative word in that sentence.”

  “Try chewing gum or something.”

  He grunted and arched back in the chair, lacing his fingers together behind his tattooed head. Nash was a really handsome guy, it just took a minute to notice it under that shockingly tattooed scalp and the tiny ring hooked through the center of his nose.

  “Don’t even try and go there with Rome, Cora.”

  I tried to keep my eye from twitching and my mouth from frowning. I had known Nash for a long time and there was no way I could pretend not to know what he was talking about.

  “You all say he’s a wonderful guy. Why wouldn’t you want me to try and help get him back for you?”

  “Because not everyone in the world needs your kind of help. Rome will find his way, we all believe that, and I was talking about the goo-goo eyes you two were just making at each other. That isn’t something I think either of you needs to try and mess with.”

  I didn’t like anyone trying to tell me what to do, even if I knew Nash was just looking out for my ultimate best interests.

  “It’s not like I’m Captain America’s type anyway. Don’t worry.” I pushed the edge of the chair with my foot, making him twist away from me. “Besides, you know I’m holding out for Mr. Perfect and that guy is so far from it there isn’t a bridge on this planet that could get him from here to there.”

  He planted his Vans-clad feet on the ground and pushed up so that he was standing in front of me. He bent down so that we were nose to nose and I couldn’t look away from those intense, pretty-colored eyes.

  “There is no Mr. Perfect, Tink. You made him laugh, whatever that means. I haven’t heard him laugh one single time since he got back into town. Just watch yourself because no one county can have two rulers and neither one of you likes to give up control.”

  I wanted to laugh it off, to brush off his warning as unwarranted and silly, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that Rome Archer was enigmatic and that I found him more interesting than anyone I had encountered in a long time. Not to mention I really did want to see what he looked like without his shirt on, which was something because my libido had been missing in action for longer than I cared to admit … Ack, it all had the makings of something that was indeed bound to get complicated and messy if I didn’t put a lid on it quick.

  I sat back down just as Rule came back in the door. He didn’t look overly upset, but he didn’t exactly look very happy either. I was going to ask him if he was okay, but he waved me off and muttered that he didn’t want to keep his client waiting any longer than he already had. Since that was a valid brush-off, I let it slide and went back about the business of keeping the shop running.

  I know it was often hard to believe, given my big mouth and unusual appearance, but I had a killer mind for business and was really only a few college courses away from finishing out a full-fledged MBA. My dad and I had a difficult and convoluted relationship, but I always wanted him to be proud of me, and he had given me every tool and every opportunity to be the best me I could be. It had just been him and me for as long as I could remember. My mom had decided having a baby and being married to a guy who was deployed all the time was no fun, so I bounced from naval base to naval base and spent ungodly amounts of time with a series of nannies, distant relatives, and eventually Dad’s girlfriends or live-in lady friends until I met Jimmy when I was seventeen and promptly decided he was my whole world.

  Dad had eventually, after too many knock-down, drag-out fights, agreed to let me go live with Jimmy as long as I graduated high school and enrolled in college. I had no problem doing either of those things, and by the time I was a freshman in college, Jimmy had the shop open in Brooklyn and I was doing the same thing I did now for far less money. I had always had an interest in body modification, but I couldn’t even draw a stick figure, so it was just a natural progression that I learned how to pierce and do dermal implants from the guy at Jimmy’s shop. He was an awesome mentor and I liked having an actual skill that I could use in the world I lived in. Plus, it was fun to stick needles in people. What can I say, I’m a weird chick.

  When things had gone south with Jimmy, my drive and ambition had taken a nosedive right along with my relationship. I barely finished my senior year and the damage done had a lasting effect on my GPA. I could go back and finish fairly easily but at this point in my career I made a good living at the Marked, I had a full life and generally was happy, aside from missing that magical connection with someone to make me a we instead of simply a me. I had been alone for too long.

  Unbidden my thoughts went back to Rome and to that eerie and tight feeling I had in my chest when that girl had asked me to hand her number off to him. We were strangers, I was pretty sure I didn’t even like him very much, but there was no doubt about it: today, while we were in each other’s orbit, he got me to react. I wasn’t sure what to make of that yet. The last guy who had gotten me to react had also destroyed my world when he deci
ded I wasn’t what he wanted. I didn’t do well as a leaf no longer attached to tree. I needed roots, a foundation to grab on to, and when my perfect guy came along he was going to be so solidly planted it would take a hurricane to move him.

  The rest of the day was busy and I had two more appointments of my own to get through. I lost track of time and was busy cleaning up my piercing studio and hollering at the guys to make sure they turned off the lights on their way out when I heard the bell over the door ring. Since I had locked it after my last client, I knew it could only be Phil. I poked my head out of the door to tell him I would be out in a second and tried to remember if I had done the “cash out” in order to hand it off to him for the nightly cash drop.

  Phil was as opposite to my very clean-cut, straitlaced dad as a man could get. He looked more like a biker than a successful businessman, but the two men had served together in their much younger days, Phil only staying in for a short four years, while my dad made a lifelong career out of the navy. I never really understood how they managed to maintain such a close friendship, considering they disagreed on everything under the sun. Phil was like a second father to me, and I treated him just like I did my own, so when I came out of the room snapping off my latex gloves, I frowned when I saw him sitting in my chair with his head in his hands.

  Phil looked an awful lot like an older version of Nash; they had the same swarthy complexion, the same periwinkle-colored eyes, and the same stocky build. Phil had a riot of black hair that he wore pretty long for a guy his age, but with his sleeves of tattoos and neatly trimmed goatee, he pulled it off and still managed to be a babe even if he was in his late forties.

  “What’s going on, boss?”

  He was typically an energetic and vivacious guy. He lived life at a hundred miles an hour and was constantly taking in strays. I personally thought it was his mission in life to save every wayward soul from themselves.