HOW TO CATCH A BAD BOY

Chandler caught her arm, stopping her movement. She stared at his place where he made contact and he dropped his hand to his side. The thing was that he did understand. He understood how it felt to have a sibling who seemed to be the apple of everyone’s eye. The child the parents were always proud of. The one who had everything figured out. “I’m not complaining,” he said, “I kinda did the same thing and you listened…. And it’s okay to start over. As long as you don’t give up. You can try as many times as you need to,”

Elena smiled at him. It was weird and funny at the same time. How she’d come here, anxious to see her crush from years ago… Who happened to be his brother, and now she couldn’t even remember if Elijah existed. She stared at the clover tattoo on the side of his hand and wondered why he had so many of them.

Chandler noticed her staring. The wavy length of her deep brown hair caught the lights in the room and he tilted his head and watched her for a moment. It had been a while since he’d spent an evening like this with a woman, especially someone like Elena. Dressed up and out on the town, with a good girl to boot. It almost felt like he was someone else because he’d managed to find himself in such a situation. She was incredibly beautiful in the unaffected, natural way that heavily made-up women hated. There was something about the way she was staring up at him, something he couldn’t define. She had a hint of childlike wonder in her eyes and in the slight curl of her lips.

Watching her, he felt his chest swell with something foreign and warm at the thought that he was the man with her tonight. No one else. Not his brother, the Golden Boy who everyone loved or any of the other peacocks under that roof.

Just him.

In every way, Elena Davis was too good for him, Chandler thought. She was neat and clean and innocent with no trace of a scar or ink on her skin that he could see. It was obvious in her eyes that despite her struggles with her business, she was loved and happy and secure, and that was the kind of woman he had no place feeling any sort of attraction to, but very slowly, he reached his hand out and cupped her elbow with his hand, just so that he could feel her skin against the pads of his fingers. She startled but didn’t pull away.

“Wanna go to the bar and get some more drinks?” he murmured next to her ear. The edges of her hair tickled his mouth; that was how closely he was standing next to her.

Elena didn’t answer right away, but she took another one of those deep, fortifying breaths and turned to catch his stare. Chandler’s heart turned uncomfortably in his chest.

“Sounds like a good and bad idea at the same time,” she answered seriously. “So yes,”

Chandler’s lips hooked in a smile, and he held out his elbow. This protective instinct to be with her throughout the evening took him by surprise, and as her small hand curled around the crook of his arm, he grinned more widely.

Chandler led them to two open stools at the bar and ordered tequila shots for them. He pulled out one of the stools for her and after she was seated, he slid his tall, broad frame onto the other stool and folded his large hands together in front of him on the bar. Ink crawled up his forearms, as did ropey muscles and strong veins. Have you ever tried to check out a man without him noticing? It takes skill, people.

Elena had no issues with tattoos. She didn’t have any either, because she’d never been fascinated by them before, but on Chandler, they looked very attractive. Carefully and professionally drawn too, she observed. It gave him a dangerous look, although she suspected that he’d still look that way even if he didn’t have them. His stature was enough…. The tattoos only enhanced them.

“Nice ink,” she told him, still staring at his hands. “Just how many do you have?”

He licked his bottom lip, and reflexively, Elena felt her thighs clench together. His eyes, gleaming in the dim light of the bar, never strayed from hers. “I was expecting that question sooner or later,” he said.

Elena raised an eyebrow. “What?”

His thumb tapped the surface of the bar. His lips curved into a devious smile that made her toes curl inside her shoes. “You have been staring at them all night, love. I figured you’d ask me a question about them and you didn’t disappoint”

“Oh… well, is it okay if I ask then?”

He grinned and nodded, “It’s fine,” he replied, “I’ve got a lot of them that I lost count. Some on my body too.” There was a pause, then he added without taking his eyes off her, “I can show you the rest of them sometime if you want me to,”

He was flirting with her. The realization almost came as a shock to Elena , and she looked away shyly. The bartender chose that moment to bring their drink, and Elena welcomed the distraction. He’d managed to work her up with that dance and his bloody intense stare. She sure as hell wasn’t going to stay composed if he added flirting to the mix so she needed that buzz.

Chandler silently watched as she sipped the liquor. Not even a flinch. His admiration grew. When she lifted those beautiful brown eyes to him, he fucking melted.

“No thank you,” she said finally.

“Ouch,” said Chandler, but he was smiling. He honestly wasn’t expecting her to say yes, knowing the kind of person she was. She was too good for him, but that didn’t mean he had to stop trying. “Do you have a problem with the ink?” He had to know, which surprised him, because he’d never been concerned with what other people thought about his tattoos. Not once in his life, and crazy enough he was relieved when she shook her head.

“No. Why would I have a problem with it?” Elena replied, “I mean… It’s your body. No one should have a say in what you want to do. Besides, it’s not like they’re tacky. It’s beautifully drawn and they suit you,”