Repeat - Kylie Scott Page 0,67
say. Then, once I’m sure she’s gone, I whisper, “She almost sounded not completely in hate with me. It’s a miracle!”
Ed just smiles. “Told you she’d come around.”
“I thought I might get to see you doing some ink.”
“Had a cancellation so I was just looking over some bookwork.”
“Ah. By the way, I was wondering . . .”
“Hmm?”
“Would you be willing to do another tattoo for me sometime?” I ask, slipping my arms around his neck.
“Of course. I can do it whenever you want. What are you thinking?”
“You know how there’s the dogwood tree outside the condo? Maybe a branch of that with some flowers.”
His gaze turns thoughtful. “Are you sure about that? Tattoos are awful permanent.”
“I know.”
“Okay, I just want you to be certain. Not all of our time there has been good, you know.”
Hard not to wonder if the unspoken thought there is that we may not last. But it’s not like I’m asking him to tattoo his name on my forehead. I do have some limits.
“I know. It’ll always be an important part of my life, though,” I say. “Besides, I think the flowers are pretty.”
“Where do you want it?”
“Below the violets?”
“Sounds good.” He nods. “Pity you’ve got your self-defense class tonight or I could get started on it for you now.”
“I could miss a class.”
His brows rise. “You’re serious about this?”
“Very. If you don’t mind. I mean, you’ve been here all day. If you’re not in the mood . . .”
“Working on you is not a chore, Clem.” Suddenly enthused about the idea, he pats me on the butt, easing me off his lap. “Let me get something down on paper and you can see what you think.”
It doesn’t take him long and I love watching him work. The man is an extraordinarily talented artist. Something I already knew, but seeing him in action is still mind-blowing. His final drawing is perfect. Exactly what I had in mind.
“You’re absolutely sure about this?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m sure.”
A nod. “All right. Shirt off and lie down on the table.”
“Why do I need to take my shirt off? It’s short-sleeved.” I ease it up over my head regardless, handing it to him so he can hang it over the back of the chair.
“It’ll be in the way.”
This doesn’t entirely make sense since the violets cover my shoulder and this will be going lower on my upper arm, but whatever. He’s the expert and we’re in a private room out back of the parlor so it’s not like me and my bra will be on view. Though lucky I wore a nice black lace number as opposed to plain old cotton. Because making a good impression is always important.
I climb onto the table, getting comfortable, and trying not to wonder how painful it might be, or whether I’ll turn the same pallid shade of green as the girl getting her calf done. Next, the drawing is traced and turned into a sticker which he carefully places against my skin after shaving any hairs from the area and applying lotion. He’s wearing gloves now. Once I okay the position, he pulls over a little stool on wheels and sets up the tattoo gun. This involves a rubber band and him selecting inks to go into little caps since I’m leaving him in charge of colors.
“What’s going on?” asks Leif, arriving in as the gun starts up. “Nice bra.”
“Clem’s getting another tattoo and you keep your damn eyes off her.” Ed is the picture of concentration.
“I’ll have you know that once a client is in the chair, I am the very picture of professionalism,” Leif objects, his voice haughty. “Is that lace edging?”
Ed’s frown deepens. “Ready, baby?”
I nod.
The first touch of the needle is a bit of a shock and it does hurt a little. It’s like a sort of cutting feeling as he does the outline. But the area soon numbs, and I relax.
“Okay?” he asks.
“Yes. Are you finished for the day, Leif?”
“Yeah, Shannon and I are heading out for dinner.”
“Is this a first date sort of thing? How exciting.”
He just winks. “We’ll close up as we head out. Have fun, you two.”
A grunt of acknowledgment from my beloved. His lips are set in a distinctly pissy line. “He shouldn’t have been looking at your chest.”
“You’re the one who made me take my shirt off for no reason.”
Now a small smile appears. He’s so devious in his own sweet way. “That was for me. Not for him.”
“Well lock