Love and Tattoos Page 7
“Yes. Are you going to let me?”
“I didn’t think I had a choice.”
“You didn’t at first, but I was going to let you think you did.”
“Do I get to pick the tattoo?”
“Nope. I have it picked out.”
“That requires serious trust. What have you chosen?”
“A cherry blossom. A sleeve. In a rainbow of colors.”
“Cherry blossoms? Why?”
“They mean new beginnings, new life. You’re finding yours.”
“And you’re willing to risk even more ass kicking from Joe by inking me?” she teased.
She loved that she could flirt and joke and tease, that she felt comfortable enough with him. She knew things would change, maybe even go back to being a little awkward when the shop opened for business in a few hours, when Joe came back from the convention in a couple of days, when their lives went back to normal. But she wouldn’t trade this magical night for anything.
“Yes. I’m willing to risk everything,” he promised softly.
He meant it. She saw it in the slight smile on his lips. She felt it in his tender touch. She heard it in the low rumble of his voice. Her art gave her pleasure and love of life. He understood that. Tattoos were an outlet for all of them, in one form or another. Sharing that passion with him…
“Would you like me to draw them?”
“No. I did.”
“You?”
“Just hold that thought, okay? I am not without artistic ability.”
“I never said you were.” Curiously, she watched as he slid off the desk. In the top drawer, he pulled out a thin stack of paper and handed it over. “I’ve been working on several different ones for a couple of months, changing them as I saw you change.”
Annie counted seven pages and Brax took up his seat next to her again. Some pages held simple drawings and outlines. Some shaded and three-dimensional.
Slowly, she flipped through the sheets of thick drawing paper, then did it again from the last to the first. He was good at his job and could tattoo rings around most artists, but beside her, Brax fidgeted.
Was he nervous? Other than the wings on his shoulders, she didn’t know if she’d ever seen any of his designs. The only people she’d seen him ink were those who brought in their own images.
His confidence was something that rarely ever cracked, but after her earlier bit of dissention, she knew she could do damage with a simple look or word. There was power in that knowledge and suddenly he wasn’t the only one who was nervous.
She traced one of the flowers on one of the pages. “This one,” she said softly. “I like this one.” She held the piece out to him and she was surprised at how his fingers shook as he took it from her.
The one she’d chosen was a branch, twisted around itself, with cherry blossoms in varying shades of pink, blue, and orange. It would travel from her elbow to the top of her shoulder. It would be his ink on her, his mark.
“This is my favorite. I can’t explain how much I want to see this come to life against your skin, to have some part of me be a permanent part of you.”
She nodded, unable to speak. She couldn’t explain to him either how much she wanted his ink on her, for him to be with her at all times.
They were quiet in the even quieter, empty office. The hum from the refrigerator a few feet from the door was the only other sound beyond their breathing. The heating and air conditioning system wasn’t on because it wasn’t cold enough and hadn’t been hot out in a couple of months.
No, it was just the two of them, like kids up all night someplace they shouldn’t be when instead they should be home in bed.
“It’s been a magical night,” she said. She wasn’t looking at him, but she saw him, out of the corner of her eye, look up from the drawing. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you liked me?”
“You’re my best friend’s little sister. There’s generally a rule against that.”
“But he knows you better than anyone. Wouldn’t that make you the best choice for me?”
Brax laughed. “Only if we planned to remain celibate.”
Annie nodded and joined in with a muted laugh of her own. “Okay. I can give you that one?”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“You were older, my brother’s best friend, and figured that you had many girls trailing after you.”
“Yeah. I did. Catnip,” he reminded her, though she didn’t need it. “But…” He leaned close and kissed her. “You know now.”
“There you go again. Sweet and romantic.” The tenderness she felt for him came through in her voice. “I smell ruin.”
Chapter Five
Brax pulled his shirt down over his chest. He slowed his movements when he caught Annie staring. When the last bit of skin was covered, he made a casual inquiry. “Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere.” She grabbed his keys from his desk. “Do you know where my flip flops are?”
“Probably the same place mine are.” He reached for his pants and tugged them on, sans underwear. Again, he caught Annie staring. “Want a taste before we go?”
“Yes, but no.”
“Tease. So where? I’m curious.”
“I’m not telling. You’re going to have to trust me.”
“I do trust you. Completely. I just like to know where I’m being led at four in the morning. Give me a hint?”
“It’s a special surprise.”
“Walking or taking my car?” Most days he walked to work. He only lived at the other end of downtown, but when it dipped into the forties or lower at night, he preferred the warmth of his car.
“Walking. It’s not far.”
Annie slipped her feet into her flip flops and Brax slid his feet into his. They’d been found under his pants. “Let’s go.”
“Hold your horses. We could at least make a cup of coffee to share on the way, couldn’t we?”
“You don’t drink coffee.”
“I don’t do cold either, but I’m going to brave it for you.”
“Wimp. You wouldn’t have survived in Philly,” Annie said, stepping out into the chilly autumn night. “Hurry up.”
“Give me a second. Jesus, woman. Let me get my jacket at least. Will I like it? This place you’re taking me?” It was only in the mid-forties, but for the South, that was chilly. Brax’s toes reminded him every time he stepped outside in his flip flops that it was time for closed toe shoes now.
She was right though. He wouldn’t have survived in Philly. He was a Cali boy and an adopted Southern boy. No way in hell would he or his thin blood survive a winter above the Mason-Dixon.
“We won’t be gone very long.”
“Okay. So it’s not far.” Brax took her hand and fell into step beside her. He liked this, holding hands with her. Her fingers snuggled between his the way her body snuggled against body. She’d called him a romantic and when it came to her, he had to admit that yes, he was romantic.
Looking back over the last few hours, the laughing and teasing and making love and learning about each other, stealing Joe’s cookies… There was romance in all of it.
And this, too. Walking down a deserted street when most people were home in bed. Where she was taking him didn’t matter as much as the fact that she wanted to share with him.
She’d wondered why he never went to see her in Philly and his reason was simple enough. She wasn’t his. She was his best friend’s sister. He wasn’t supposed to fall for her or her for him.
And he’d have been heartbroken if she’d rejected him. He had no idea she’d come home, but she had and he had her. “Babe?” He squeezed her fingers and drew her hand up to his lips for a soft kiss.
“What? Oh, yes. You’ll like it.”
“You okay?”
“Yes. Just lost in thought.”
“About what?”
“Mmm. Wondering if I hurt your feelings earlier. You know, when I said you didn’t know as much about my art and what I wa
s feeling about it as you thought you did.”
“I don’t think you hurt my feelings, no. It was hard to hear though. I wanted to be the tattooed knight. I wanted to help you fix whatever you might have been going through. I was presuming a lot and was bound to be wrong and off the mark in some things.” He looked down at her, at the top of her head. He leaned down and nuzzled the black strands that glinted in the street lights. “So, have other people been there? To this place we’re going?”
“Yes.”
“It’s not private, then.”
“No. It’s a public place with a very specific purpose.”
“Uh huh. You’re not very good at this. You have to give better hints.”
“I know,” she admitted.
“Umm…”
“No. No more questions. You’re just going to have to trust me. There’s no way to explain it without giving it away or without it leading to more questions. I want to share this with you, so please let me.”
“No more questions,” he repeated. “I think that’s disappointing. Questions are what got us here to the middle of the street just a few hours before dawn.”
“Awww. You’ll get over it. I promise.”
Brax gave his head a negative shake. “I don’t know.”
She softened and tugged him to a stop. “I do. Now, I need you to close your eyes.”
“What? Why?”
“Because.” Annie leaned up and kissed him. Her mouth was warm and he wanted to prolong the kiss but she drew away. “Trust. Remember?”
He glanced down at her. “You planning to strip me naked out here in the cold and run away?”
“And you said you trusted me. For shame, Brax. No, I’m not going to get you naked and run away.”
“This a mob hit? Or some sort of years later post graduation sorority dare? For the record, I never said I trusted you.” He did though. Implicitly.
“No, and no. I think you’ve had way too much Red Bull.”
“I haven’t had any since around nine and you’re being way too suspicious.”
“Maybe. It’s a nice night,” she said offhandedly.
“It is.”
“I missed the mountains.”
“You can’t see them at night.”
“No, but just knowing they’re all around, they’re out there, they’re just over the horizon makes me happy.”
“All right. Closing my eyes. See?” The wording wasn’t lost on him. She was still beside him, still had her hand wrapped in his. He was being a pain in the ass and he knew it. He’d found a new camaraderie with her since she’d answered his challenge and he could help wanting to explore it.
“Good man.” She turned them to the left. “We’re going to be walking straight, which is toward the sidewalk, then around a corner up a side street, and up a flight of stairs.”
Brax pictured in his head the directions she’d given. They were near the art store and the coffee shop. Most of the buildings had second stories, some had third stories.
He was entirely in her hands. It was a position, a lack of control he’d never felt before. He wasn’t sure he liked it. He wasn’t sure he didn’t. Either way, he had to go along with it. “And I have to keep my eyes closed the whole time?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Lead the way.”
“Just listen to my voice I’ll lead you every step of the way.”
“Have you rented an art studio?”
“Not exactly. Watch your footing now. We’re going up.” She moved first. Brax stumbled once and in flip flops on metal stairs, it hurt like a bitch. He kept his groan to himself, but Annie… Adorable, loving Annie, laughed at him anyway. “Careful.”
“Yeah,” he scoffed. “It has to do with your art though? Where you’re taking me?”
“Yes.”
“All right.” Brax kept quiet the rest of the way up the stairs. They climbed slowly and the only time she let go of him was at the top. He heard keys jingle on a ring, followed by a lock sliding. He felt a rush of warm air and when it hit his chilly skin, he shivered.
Light flooded from behind his closed eyelids and then Annie let go of his hand. “You can look now.”
Unsure what he’d see, Brax eased open his eyes. The light hadn’t been from overhead, but from several fixed spotlights around a large open room.
What he actually did see, left him breathless. “What the…? Oh my God. Annie, these pictures ―”
“Are mine,” she added quickly. “My work. My art. The reason I don’t have a social life.”
“Shit,” Brax said under his breath. “I was so wrong and you were so right.” In a daze, he made his way around the perimeter of the art gallery. “I thought you were lost and unsure of who you were but it’s clear that you know exactly who you are. These are so… Fuck, they’re so beautiful. Arms. Legs. Backs. All tattoos.”
He couldn’t stop looking at them. Charcoal drawings. Pencil sketches. Watercolor reproductions of tattoos. There were a couple of chalk renderings as well. Every bit of Annie’s talent was depicted in frames lining the walls.
“I can’t believe the detail in the images. You captured the grimace of pain when a needle is first applied, the fear before the tattoo is even begun, the ungraceful cry with such depth. I can almost feel their pain, their uncertainty, and then there are the smiles, the beauty… The pleasure.”
“When I first came home, I really was lost. You weren’t wrong about that. I thought where I’d been defined me, but it didn’t. Art is what I want. Not an art department in an ad agency or in any other agency. Just art. How I see it. How it makes me feel. It took me getting laid off and coming home to Joe, to Love and Tattoos, to you before I realized it. I’d become a drone and this, everything, before tonight but especially tonight, set me free.”
“Annie.” Brax turned to find her sitting on a bench in the middle of the room and he moved to take a seat beside her.
“They want to see how the show goes up here, then maybe take it down to Asheville, to a larger, sister gallery.
“My games tonight were so dumb, so arrogant. Must’ve seemed as though I only wanted in your pants. I’m so sorry.”
Annie looped her arm through his and leaned her head against his shoulder. Brax reveled in the closeness.“Your games were fun. They made me laugh and they broke the ice between us, got us talking, opening up. I guess it’s been a long time coming. And, for what it’s worth, you do know me. You know every day things about me. You know the small stuff, the little things that are more important than any of the big stuff. Seeing you again helped me realize what I wanted, really wanted, and showed me that you’re a big part of it.”
“What’s the name of your collection.”
“Love and Tattoos: Pain and Pleasure.”
“I absolutely fucking love it and Joe… God, Joe is going to dig this. He’s going to be so proud of you. Hell, I’m so proud of you.”
“You and Joe and the clients who visit the shop gave me courage, provided my inspiration. I love tattoos and I want the world to see why I do, to see how beautiful they are, how personal, how intense they are.”
“You’ve certainly captured all that and more.”
“You’ve seen disjointed pieces of my work, scribbles and scraps of things that I was trying and using and discarding. I needed to keep drawing, whether it was working or not. I needed to find what I wanted to share, to reveal. I didn’t want to just do flowers, you know? I wanted to create the flower from within. Do you know what I mean?”
“I do. There’s life in the flower inked on skin. Life that can’t be experienced when it’s only on the paper.”
“Tattoos, even as they’re inked in, they’re changing, growing and shrinking, fading, moving with muscle as the human being changes. Tattoos have a life of their own when they’re transferred onto flesh. I wanted that to come out in my art. I wanted it to be alive, to almost breathe on whatever surface or canvas I chose.”
“I get it. I really do. I just wish you�
�d said something before I made a fool of myself.”
“You didn’t. I didn’t tell you or Joe what I was doing because I didn’t know how it was going to turn out. I didn’t know if it was going to turn out at all. I let you guys think I was lost because if this didn’t work out, I would’ve been. The gallery owners were incredibly receptive when I approached them but until the final piece was done and they saw it all put together, I didn’t know if what I envisioned would come to life. But, you didn’t make a fool of yourself.” She squeezed his arm and pressed her lips to his shoulder. Even though he wore a shirt and a hoodie, he felt the heat of her breath, the touch of her lips as if she were kissing his bare skin, branding him.
“How long has this been going on? How long have you been arranging this?”
“About a month after I got home.”
“I can’t believe no one said anything to any of us. This is a small town. There’s supposed to be rumors and gossip. I feel so let down.”
Annie smacked him on the arm. “You’re such a smart ass.”
“You said earlier that this was a magical night.” He waved his arm to encompass the room, still blown away by what he was seeing. “Looking at this… At your work, the soulfulness of tattoos through your eyes, and then the feel of you next to me…” Brax kissed the top of her head. “I agree. It has been and is very magical.
“Thank you”.
“You know,” he said softly into the silence that had grown around them, “Maybe I was the lost one.”
“How so?”
“Maybe I was lost looking for you, waiting for you.”
Annie lifted her head. “I don’t see how that’s right. You weren’t lost. You weren’t wandering aimlessly in the dark, you weren’t suffering through life changes, and career decisions. How could you have been lost?”
“I don’t know, I—”
“Maybe it’s a purpose you needed.”
“Are you my purpose in life?”
“Possibly. At least, you know, until Joe gets back.”