Inked Fighter: Complete Collection (MMA MC New Adult Romance) by E. E. Griffin Read Free Book Online Page B

at his soft, full lips imagining what it would be like to kiss them. Kissing a guy I’d just met was the last thing I needed in my life, even though my body seemed to disagree.
    I still couldn’t help thinking that there was something wrong with him for being interested in me. Then again, if I thought something was wrong with a guy because he was interested in me, what was wrong with me?
    What was wrong with me was a one-year-old baby and an out-of-control sister. Zoe and I were keeping things together as much as we could, but boy drama could mess up what little peace we had. I wasn’t going to let my hormones destroy my family.
    Taking a deep breath, I got up from the table and forced myself to get my fabric ready. Out on the front porch, I filled a big aluminum tub with water from the hose and added pink dye. Then I cut a length of fabric and pressed it into the pink water. For twenty minutes, I stirred on and off as the fabric soaked up the pink. When it was done, it had a nice even coat.
    I put the fabric into another tub and poured out the dye water. I put the first batch through a quick cycle in the washer and dryer while I dyed the other half of the fabric batch light yellow. When the pink fabric was dry, I put the yellow fabric in the washing machine.
    With the first batch of pink fabric in hand, I went to the kitchen table and got my wax ready. I used a technique like batik but less detailed. I melted the wax until it was soft, and then finger-painted the designs into the fabric. I didn’t want a discernible pattern. The messier the better. It ended up looking really organic.
    After I’d smooshed warm wax over the pink fabric, I heard Rose crying upstairs. I looked at the clock on the microwave. It was already six in the evening. Zoe would be home soon. There was no sign of Regan. Sometimes she came home stinking of booze. I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to think about it.
    Upstairs, I opened the bedroom door and found Rose standing in her crib. She was wearing her little onesie with a cute mouse on the chest. It was already tight on her. She grew out of her clothes so fast.
    Her face was red and streaked with tears. I picked up my baby girl and held her close to me. I would do anything for my daughter. I kissed her head and smelled her fresh baby scent. Love tumbled out of me uncontrollably and tears formed in my eyes.
    Sometimes it was like I was hollow, and there was no light at the end of that tunnel. I wanted to give up, throw my hands in the air, and scream I was done. But I couldn’t. I had to keep going, for her.
    A vision of Damien crossed my mind and a seed of hope grew deep in my chest. No matter how hard I fought it, my instincts longed for him. There was something in the tilt of his head, in the way he smiled, that told me everything would be all right. 
    I heard the door banging closed and high-frequency conversation from downstairs. One of the voices was Regan’s and the other was male.
    With Rose on my hip, I walked downstairs, worried about what I would find. She sat on the couch with a guy. He had shoulder-length dreadlocks, and wore a long-sleeved t-shirt with holes in it and skinny jeans that covered his lean form. I could smell the sharp scent of alcohol.
    Regan had her kinky red hair braided in two braids down her neck. She wore a tank top and tiny seventies-style shorts with basketball socks pulled up to her knees.
    “Hi, Claire,” she said animatedly. She seemed happy. Too happy.
    “Hi,” I said back, sounding far less enthused. “Who’s your friend?” Rose weighed heavily in my arms, but I didn’t want to put her down with the weirdness going on in the living room.
    “This is Toby. I met him at The Clutch.” She leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Toby didn’t seem the type to go to The Clutch. The place was mostly frequented by overweight, bald, bearded biker types.
    “Is that where you’ve been, Regan?” I asked. My voice revealed my