Authors: Kirsty Dallas
“She’s the size of an elephant and beautiful as ever. Eight months pregnant!”
“Damn!” Harper exclaimed. “Bout’ time you learnt to put it in the right hole!” I barely stopped my mouth from dropping open as I glanced up at Harper. He gave me a wink. A giant bearded bald tattooist sat up from his workstation and stretched out his back. Snapping off one of his gloves he strolled across the room and shook Harper’s hand. If he hadn’t smiled I would have pegged him for a stone-cold killer.
“Good to see you, Somerville,” he exclaimed.
“Hey, Marz, how’s things?”
“Same ol’ shit, different day, buddy.” His questioning eyes took me in and I wished to God I didn’t blush. But I did and it only got worse if I tried to stop it.
“Marz, this is Bree, Bree, this is Marz. He owns Oceans.” Marz held out his hand to shake mine. His enormous hand swallowed mine, but it was gentle and warm.
“Nice to meet you, sweetheart.” His smile was affectionate and his eyes sparkled with something akin to mischief. When Marz’s hand lingered a little too long Harper pulled me back into his chest and I swear on all that is holy, the man growled! Harper…Freakin’…Growled!
Marz gave me a cheeky wink. “Thought so,” he murmured.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, trying to ignore Harper’s caveman growliness, along with the long hard heat of his body against mine. In my mind I sounded and looked perfectly indifferent, but I knew my voice had been a little breathless. I’m pretty sure everyone else realized it too as they studied Harper and me like we were alien beings or something. I felt completely out of my element right now, outside I was a pathetic attempt at cool and calm, inside I was flapping about like a fish out of water. I certainly didn’t belong in a tattoo studio and I’m sure these men could see it written all over my face and if not my face then in my pale ink free skin.
“That baby brother of mine behaving?” Yoshi called out, breaking the weird moment of shameless gawking.
Harper grunted. “Hell no, but I’m sure you already knew that. It’s his first year on the tour and he’s loving the entire experience a little too much. To be honest, he’s kinda a pain in the ass.”
“Yup, sounds like China. He’s not satisfied unless he’s pissing someone off,” laughed Yoshi.
“Sounds just like someone I know,” I couldn’t help but murmur from Harper’s side. Yoshi and Marz both laughed loudly.
“Where’s Lacey?” Harper asked after giving me a quick slap across the behind that shut me up pretty darn quick.
“Lace, gear up, sweetheart,” called Marz as he turned and sat back down to his client. “You want some time in the chair, Harp?” Marz continued. Harper rubbed a hand over his newly clipped hair.
“If you got time.”
“Got a couple of hours, come see me when you’ve finished with Lacey.”
“Harper!” It was the perky singsong voice from the phone earlier and again it was far too animated for my liking. I turned to look at the tall leggy blond wearing a skirt around her butt cheeks and a skimpy little top exposing her jewel adorned belly button. Her breasts were proudly pushed up high, cleavage spilling out in unashamed fashion. Yep, a typical Harper skank, I thought as I rolled my eyes at him. He gave me a sheepish look before turning to face the troll.
“Chantelle,” Harper murmured uncomfortably. I somehow managed to appear unfazed, while I really just wanted to grab Chantelle’s perfect long blond hair and mess it up. To hell with that, I wanted to mess her up.
While I was seething in a heavily laced aroma of jealousy, I was sure she didn’t even notice me as she edged around the counter and threw herself into Harper’s arms. I have to admit that Harper’s return embrace was less than enthusiastic, but I still seethed in jealousy. It’s not like he could throw her on the floor and dust off the skank cooties or anything. The image that created did make one corner of my mouth twitch with wicked humor though. Instead of turning into the crazy bitter monster I wanted to be in that moment, I took a discreet step away from the affectionate embrace. Harper’s firm hand on my arm stopped me from getting very far though. Finally blow-up-Barbie noticed me, curiosity and no shortage of amusement crossed her eyes. She obviously didn’t feel the least bit threatened by my presence. Her long sparkly claw ran a trail down Harper’s chest and she looked up at him through her long false eyelashes.
“Maybe you could come round tonight, you remember how to get to my place don’t you?” Okay, now I wanted to damn well growl! Much to my amusement Harper took her greedy little troll hand and carefully removed it from his chest.
“To tell the truth, Chantelle, I was pretty wasted, I wouldn’t have a fucking clue where you live.”
“Hey, Harp, what’s new?” came another female voice from the back of the studio. This voice belonged to a much older woman and if Harper had slept with her I was officially in an episode of
The
Twilight Zone.
“Hi, Lace, how’s it going?” The woman appeared to be eyeballing Chantelle who had made no effort to move away from Harper.
“Chantelle, you wanna go order lunch for the boys?”
“Maybe Harper can come with me?” she suggested in a seductive tone with a little pout I think was meant to be sexy. I kinda wanted to punch her in that pouty mouth right now.
“Harp’s busy. Go down to the sandwich bar and get our usual.” Marz had given a direct order so it seemed, because Chantelle immediately turned and left, a highly satisfying scowl on her lips as she did so.
“Lacey, I want you to meet Bree, Bree, this is Lacey.” The older woman made her way around the counter. She looked totally Martha Stewart and completely out of place in a tattoo shop.
“So, this is your Breeze,” Lacey said fondly. I was surprised she knew of me, and more surprised she had referred to me as ‘Harper’s’ Breeze. Marz and Yoshi were grinning from behind us and Harper was actually blushing. Like, God for real blushing—red cheeks, red ears, and all. Well, if wonders never cease.
“Yeah, this is my Breeze. We wondered if you could help us out with something, one of your own specialties?” I shuffled nervously. There was no way in hell I was getting a tattoo. Not a chance!
“I know I can,” murmured Lacey looking at me like she was trying to figure out an intricate puzzle. She reached out her hand and I reluctantly took it. She was such a strait-laced motherly looking lady and I was worried I would do anything she asked of me, even get a tattoo, which I wouldn’t. No tattoos, uh-huh. We followed Lacey through a door and down a short corridor lined with a long desk full of art supplies, drawings and computers. We then entered another doorway and Lacey flicked on a light. The room was a smaller copy of the large tattoo studio out front—clean, professional but much more private and feminine. Without saying a word, Lacey grabbed a folder and flicked through a few pages until she found what she was looking for. She turned the folder around and placed it on the reclining chair before me. The photos were all of women and they were all bald. The before pictures were disturbingly familiar—pale, so solemn, and completely hair free; the after pictures were quite different though. The girls were still bald but now they had eyebrows, and they all smiled with a new confidence they all seemed to wear after their visit with Lacey. I looked up at Harper, my voice gone, my eyes misting with tears that I didn’t want to shed here in front of strangers. I had walked into the tattoo studio with my mind made up—NO TATTOOS—but this was different. This was Harper’s way of fixing something that bothered me. He was giving me back something I had lost and it wasn’t the eyebrows, it was my confidence. In that moment I was absolutely, irrevocably in love with Harper. It was a dangerous emotion to accept because nothing had changed. I couldn’t be with him the way I wanted, but trying to stop myself from loving him would hurt just as much as cutting off my own arm. I dropped Lacey’s portfolio and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Thank you,” I breathed with a sniffle. I was not going to cry, I would not cry!
“You’re welcome, baby girl. Like I told you though, you’re beautiful just as you are but if this makes you feel better then you need to do it.” I finally pulled away wiping the stubborn tears that had refused to listen to me. “Do you want me to stay here with you?” he asked. My hand gripped his tightly.
“I held your hand when you got your first tattoo!” Harper grinned.
“Any excuse to hold your hand is good with me.” Lacey prompted me to sit back in the vinyl chair and Harper sank down at my side, holding my hand just as he had said he would. We spent a long time looking at different styles, colors, shapes, and arches. Finally we decided on a shape very similar to my own brow line that we established from a picture on Harper’s phone. The color was going to be as light as my complexion was fair. All too soon Lacey was drawing the line that would be tattooed onto my skin and my nerves set in. We checked the line in a mirror, rechecked it and checked it again, until I finally laid back and held on tightly to Harper’s hand. As if sensing my nerves Harper began to talk.
“Remember Sean’s first tattoo?” I smiled. How could I forget? He hadn’t wanted Harper or me to tag along, so we went and found out where and when he had booked and showed up anyway. “He started off all macho then ended up moaning like a damn cow in labor.” My laughter made me twitch and Lacey chastised Harper and told him not to make me laugh again. I endured the next forty-five minutes in painful silence, and Harper didn’t let go of my hand once. When finished, Lacey applied a little cream and nudged me over to the mirror. I stared at my reflection for the longest time. My head was still hideously bare, but the distinctly arched brows were beautiful. They gave my face color, animation and life again. I spun around and leapt into Harper’s unsuspecting arms, almost knocking him to the ground.
“Thank Christ!” He breathed. “For a moment I thought you hated them and you were going to beat the shit out of me.” I turned to face Lacey.
“Thank you so much,” I said, my voice wavering with emotion.
“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart,” Lacey said fondly.
“Thanks, Lace.” Harper wrapped his big strong arms around the little lady and she looked so small tucked into his chest. I quickly re-wrapped my head and allowed Harper to pull me from the room and back down the corridor into the bright tattoo studio. I was greeted with approving nods from all the tattooists except for Marz. He stood and inspected Lacey’s work for the longest time before finally grinning with approval. Lacey slapped him on the back of the head with a gentle reprimand.
“As if I would let a client walk out with anything but the best,” she growled.
“Now, because I waited so patiently and held your hand, it’s your turn to do the same for me,” Harper whispered.
“I thought you were going to stop once your arms were full,” I said glancing at the array of tattoos on Harper’s skin.
“I just need one more,” he said without further explanation. While Harper stood with Marz flicking through a folder of artwork, I wandered over to Yoshi and glanced over his shoulder, admiring the tattoo he was working on.
“You like it?” the guy being tattooed asked. He was young, probably a year or two younger than me and definitely cute. I nodded while watching the tattoo gun whisper across his skin, leaving a trail of ink and blood. The tattoo was a Japanese inspired scene with a brightly colored Koi fish on his forearm.
“It’s beautiful,” I admitted.
“I’m Tim,” he offered.
“Bree,” I introduced myself. A quick glance in Harper’s direction almost had me staggering backwards with surprise. The possessive glaze in his eyes had my emotions lurching in disbelief.
“My older sister had breast cancer. Lacey helped her out with a new set of brows. Emma’s hair has all grown back now but she still says her tattooed brow is the best thing she ever did.” I looked back at Tim.
“I have Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Harper surprised me with this today, I had no idea, it didn’t even cross my mind to do something like this.” Tim looked across to Harper, whose territorial gaze had not left mine. Tim gave him a friendly nod which Harper responded to with restraint.
“He must be a good friend.” The best, I thought. I smiled at Harper, trying to convey my sincere appreciation, my love. His gaze softened, the love in his own eyes caused a little more of my suppressed feelings to bubble to the surface.
“He’s my best friend,” I admitted, then strolled towards Harper and leant over to press my lips to his forehead. It seemed to surprise the guys in the studio as much as it surprised me. It was no more than a chaste kiss but it still held a level of intimacy. I shouldn’t have initiated it but I simply could not help myself. Being around Harper was like being drawn into a force of gravity, I just drifted towards him without practical thought.
“What was that for?” Harper murmured. I was finding it difficult to concentrate. Harper had removed his shirt and now sat in all his eight pack muscled glory.
“Thought you needed it. You looked like you were going to wig out and go all caveman,” I whispered. Marz grinned as he began sketching in freehand on Harper’s chest, right over his heart. I sighed loudly and Harper stared at me curiously. “You’re going to ink that pretty boy chest of yours?” I teased, silently wishing he wouldn’t. It’s not that I had a problem with tattoos, especially on Harper, I adored them, but his chest was so bronzed and hard. It was simply a masterpiece all on its own; it really didn’t need ink.
“Pretty boy?” Marz chuckled. Soon enough the sketch, which was a little bigger than my hand splayed, began to take a familiar shape. Twisting limbs free of leaves extending from a thick trunk.
“Tree of life,” I murmured. Harper winked as Marz began organizing the ink and tattoo gun. I rubbed my rumbling stomach. It was past lunch time and I was starving.
“So, Somerville, you going to put on your big boy undies and take this like a man or are you going to be a pussy and hold my hand.” The men in the room erupted into laughter and Harper grinned at me.
“Well, when you put it like that.” He rolled his eyes. I was so hungry I found myself eyeing Marz’s half eaten sandwich abandoned at the back of the shop. I was also eager to spend some of Harper’s hard-earned money. It had been many months since I had gone shopping and Harper’s generous gift of ten thousand dollars was burning a hole in my pocket.