Chapter Two:

It was the next morning when the bell on the front door rang to signal that someone had entered the shop, and I frowned at Jess, our apprentice, nervous stutter.

Maggie was working on a client across the room from me while I finished the stencil for my four o'clock appointment and she raised an eyebrow at me in confusion. Jess was normally put together, if not a little on the too-confidant side. It led me to believe that Happy had decided to come to the store just to fuck with her.

I made my way out to the front of the shop and grinned at the woman standing on the other side of the desk, eyes flashing with amusement at how uncomfortable she'd made the young girl who was still stuttering and trying to find words. "Gemma, how can I help you?"

The brunette turned away from Jess to stare directly at me. "I just came by to say hello and see the place. I haven't been in here before."

I hummed in agreement and swept my arms out to gesture to the large room. "Well, what do you think?"

"It's good." She nodded as she eyed the framed photographs on the wall of our best work. "I've passed it a number of times, I never realised that a woman owned it."

My lip twitched at the tone in her voice, my initial thought that she was disapproving of a woman running a tattoo shop - a reaction that I'd had from a surprising number of people. When she finally looked back at me she grinned in approval. "It's great, baby. Exactly what this town needs."

For whatever reason, the fact that she appreciated something that I'd worked hard for and put my blood, sweat and tears into gave me a feeling of pure joy. It was as if I'd needed her approval, which was ridiculous because I didn't know the woman.

"Glad that you like it." I grinned again. "Now, I don't think you took time out of your busy day just to come on down and look at my shop, so what can I do for you?"

Gemma's eyebrow twitched. "Just showing some hospitality, baby-"

"Gemma, I'm from Georgia, we basically invented hospitality, and my mama is the queen of it. What do you want?" I asked bluntly.

She smirked at the same time that she chuckled and pointed a long fingernail at me. "I like you. You've got a fire hidden in there behind that good-girl shit you've got going on. I came to tell you that we're having a drink when you finish work."

My eyebrow raised. "You hunted me down to ask if I wanted to have a drink with you?"

"Did you hear a question?" She grinned. "What time do you finish?"

"My last client will be out of here about six." I said, still slightly shocked at the audacity of the woman as well as the fact that I liked her rather than being off put by her.

"Good, I'll be out front at six-thirty." She waved over her shoulder as she left the shop and I stared at her retreating figure until she got in her car and vacated the parking space on the street.

Maggie, one of the women that I'd hired when I'd first opened the shop and someone I considered a close friend, poked her head into the front room. "Did Gemma Teller just invite you for drinks?"

"Did you hear a question?" I deadpanned, then put on a smile as my client walked inside. "Herman, right on time! Come on in, I've got your stencil ready to go."

Gemma was out the front at six-thirty, leaning against the side of her car while she smoked a cigarette and bathed in the air of confidence that swam around her.

I locked the door to the shop and stopped in front of her. "Where are we goin'?"

"Your house." She smirked and pointed at her car with her thumb. "I've got a bottle of wine and a cheeseboard in the backseat."

Even if I'd wanted to fight her, which I didn't, I knew that I wouldn't have won the argument about her overstepping boundaries. "I live on Samson."

She didn't voice it, but the look on her face told me she already knew exactly where I lived and had come to work to be polite rather than sitting in my driveway until I'd gotten home.

Gemma looked around my home with interest, taking in every personal belonging that I had on display. "Nice house, baby."

"Thanks." I poured two glasses of wine and got out a knife for the expensive cheese that she'd brought inside with her. "It's only a rental and it's small, but it's enough for just me and Larry."

"Larry?" She asked, her curiosity peeked.

I pointed to the corner of the room and she blanched at the large pitbull who had come in through the doggy door when we had arrived home and was watching her with inquisitive eyes. He was huge and looked scary, but he was a big baby at heart and was shy until I told him that it was okay.

Gemma, despite the rumours and her hard exterior, turned out to be a lot of fun to spend time with. After an hour we'd finished the bottle of wine and the conversation was still flowing so I broke out the bottle of whiskey.

"Don't tell Happy I gave you this." I smirked when I poured her a generous shot. "He got into my whiskey when I went to the store a few months back after I'd had a bad day, and I screamed at him."

She was taken aback by that. "Happy's been here?"

"I do his smiley-faces." I explained and gave her a pointed look. "He's only a friend. My best friend."

Gemma's eyebrows raised after she'd taken a sip and she put her glass down. "Wow, the Tacoma Killer with a friend, who would have thought?"

"He's quite fond of Koz and Jax, although don't tell him that I told you that. I think he thinks he's got everybody fooled that he has no emotions with his glare." I chuckled.

She waited for me to sit down before she looked at me with a stare that would have put most people on edge. "He tell you club shit?"

"No." I shook my head. "He doesn't tell me anythin', and we pretend that the blood he tracks in is paint. I only know about the boys because he talks about his family's Friday night shenanigans."

Gemma nodded in understanding, but I decided to speak my mind. "Even if he had, I wouldn't tell anyone, Gem. Whatever people tell me never leaves my house or goes any further, I don't like to gossip. It's part of the reason I left Georgia behind."

"Keep it that way." Her tone was no-nonsense and I rolled my eyes.

"Yes ma'am." When she glared at me I laughed. "Mrs. Reynolds next door thinks we're havin' a love affair, she won't speak to me anymore."

"If Killa trusts you, I do." She thought about her words carefully. "And I don't like people breaking my trust or my boys. You understand me?"

"Loud and clear."