Tattoos and Transformations (2 page)

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“How do you like it?” The hairdresser turned the chair around and Dakota just stared. On purpose, she hadn’t worn her usual excessive eye makeup and black lipstick. A light dusting of blush and pink lipstick Jade had bought her two years ago were the only things she’d put on her face.

“It doesn’t look anything like me.”

“Wasn’t that the point?”

Yes, it was.
“It’s going to take a while to get used to the new me.”

“I think you look not only beautiful but sophisticated.”
Really?
She removed her smock and hugged her stylist. She took one more glance at the strange girl in the mirror and gave Charlene a good tip. Given how brittle her hair had become because of the

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excessive bleach, the beautician had spent a long time conditioning it.

“Thanks. I love it.”

As she walked outside into the warm sunshine, she nearly froze when she spotted Morgan Callen coming toward her. Her old self probably would have raced up to him and said something snarky to get his attention. The new confident Dakota decided to play it cool.

She’d purchased a rather subdued yellow sundress and plain yellow heels. She held her head high, but kept her gaze on him as they neared.

He seemed to be a man who knew where he was going, but when his glance swept her way, he gave her the old elevator once-over. As he got closer, there seemed to be no recognition.

Hot damn.

She’d really changed. Indecision tugged on her. Should she stop and say hi or let him pass? Before she could make up her mind, Morgan had whizzed on by. Even if he found her attractive, he wasn’t the type to stop and make conversation. His younger brother, Clint, however, would have gone out of his way to get her attention and perhaps even asked her out for a drink.

All the way back to her shop, she hummed. Just getting to feast her eyes on Morgan made her day. When she arrived at her new shop, which she’d simply named, Dakota’s Art Gallery, she headed upstairs to begin the ordering process to get the studio ready. Logan Smithfield, Jade’s fiancé, had agreed to finance the start-up costs.

Fortunately, Jade’s cousin, Dustin Callen, who owned a construction company, said he could spare two guys to put strips of lathing on the brick and run chains from them so she could hang the artwork.

Her father said he’d gather her paintings and bring them over later today. She wasn’t sure which ones she wanted to display, but she needed something on the walls to start. Cody Callen, another one of the many Callen cousins, owned the town newspaper. He was running ads for free requesting commissioned artists’ work. Until their pieces came in, she’d be displaying only her canvases. Tomorrow, she’d see about making a banner to go across Main Street advertising her grand
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opening in three weeks.

She inhaled, not really believing her dream was about to unfold.

A few hours later, the bell above the store door dinged. That must be her dad. Wouldn’t he be surprised to see her transformation?
Or
maybe not
. She’d changed so many times over the years that he seemed oblivious to her various looks. Jade always said that Dakota reinvented herself just to get her dad’s attention. So far, it hadn’t worked.

She trotted downstairs. Her flowing skirt billowed out, making her feel really feminine for the first time. Maybe it was changing from combat boots to heels that made the difference. Her father stood in the front store with at least ten of her paintings.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Dakota. Got what you asked for.”

She held out her skirt and twirled. “You like?”

“You look nice. Where do you want these?” She worked hard to keep the smile on her face. “Just leave them there. You want to check out the place?” He’d helped set up Jade’s blacksmith shop and had stopped in periodically to see her work, but since Jade left, this was the first time he’d come by.

“I have to get back.” He turned around and left the store. Even the bell’s tingle seemed to mock her.

She dragged a finger under her eye.
Do not cry
. Inhaling, she picked up her paintings, brought them into the back, and leaned them against the wall to decide which ones she wanted to put up.

He could have given her a hug, said he missed her, or commented about the change in her hair color.
Jerk
. Fine. Wait until he sat alone night after night without her company. He’d miss her, or at least she hoped he would.

She looked through her paintings to get her mind off the hurt.

Most were landscapes, but she did have other collections. Her most-bizarre pieces of art were a series of photos of her grapefruit tattoos.

She would create intricate tattoo designs and then put the tats on the

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fruit. Since this art was perishable, she took pictures of them. She debated trying her designs on herself but never had the courage to prick her own skin.

Once she decided how she wanted to display her work, she easily hung them on the metal chains draped from the ceiling. She stepped back to admire her work. “Lookin’ good.” Now all she needed were a few other pieces. Jade said she was trying to convince Parker, Jade’s other husband, to put his paintings in the gallery, but he kept saying his heart was in the theater. She could understand that.

The furniture she’d ordered for the front entrance and for sitting in the gallery wouldn’t be delivered for a few days. With nothing else she could do in the studio, she decided to give Harley a call to see if he could fit her in for a tattoo she’d been wanting to get for a while.

Moving out of the only home she’d known needed a bit of closure, and the tattoo she’d designed would be a fitting tribute to her dad, though at this precise moment, she wasn’t sure he deserved the homage.

Don’t be petty. He loves you even if he never says it.

She looked up D’Ink Coda on the web for the phone number and gave them a call.

Harley had sold his shop to some outsider a year ago, claiming tough times and the inability to get good help as the reasons for his near bankruptcy. Not only did the new owner ask Harley to stay, but he brought in a guest artist once a month that brought life back into the store.

Harley answered and said if she came right away, he could fit her in.

“I’ll be right over.”

Since she wanted a tattoo above her breast, she needed to wear a top that was easy to slip down but still keep her covered. After she changed, she darted down the street to the tattoo parlor. The inside looked the same as when she’d been there the last time, which was a
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good two years ago. The walls were plastered with amazing designs.

She would have lingered to admire the talent, but she understood another client would be arriving in a half hour.

Harley came out of the back and tossed her a lopsided grin. His limp was a bit more pronounced from the last time and his stomach protruded more, but at least he was still doing what he loved. Or at least she hoped he still loved his job. From the yellow tinge to his face, he wasn’t looking very healthy.

“Wow. What happened to you?” He cocked a brow and ran his gaze from her head to her cute sandals.

She couldn’t tell if he liked the change or not. “I’m about to open my own art gallery and I wanted to look a bit more upscale.”

“You’re put together, I’ll grant you that. I like the new look, but then again, I liked the spunky one, too.” If she’d come in wearing her yellow dress and heels, she wondered if he would’ve known it was even her. “Thank you.” He motioned she sit in the chair. “What can I do for you today?” His light tone disappeared and turned gruffer, as if this last year had taken a huge toll on his pride.

“I want a tat of a paintbrush crossed with an anvil.” She pulled the drawing from her pocket. “I want it over my left breast.” Even she wasn’t sure why she could pierce her face and dye her hair the colors of the rainbow, but when it came to her tats, she wanted them hidden. Maybe because they represented something private to her and weren’t merely artwork.

Harley studied the picture. “You draw this?”

“Yes.”

“The detail is good.” Something dark flashed in his eyes but was gone before she could figure it out.

“Thanks. Can you do it?”

“Do I like ink?”

“Okay, then. Let’s get started.”

She took off her shirt. Underneath she had a tube top that would

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allow Harley access to the area without her having to get naked. He made the transfer from her drawing and gathered his inks and cleaning supplies. The only color used would be on the bristles on the brush itself. The two-inch-tall design would be a reminder of all that her father had given her. Too bad he’d never learn about the acknowledgment.

Harley gathered his tools, set them next to her, and began to prep her skin with alcohol.

When he leaned in close she could see how much he’d aged, as if the life had been sucked out of him. “How are you doing?” His smile faltered. “I’m busier than ever, but I’m a bit pissed at myself for not thinking about bringing in those guest artists. Business has been booming. Did you know we had someone from LA last month?”

She’d seen all the ads. “Yeah. I would have come in then, but I like
your
work.” Harley seemed a bit down.

“You may look different, but you’re just as sweet.”

“Who’s the new owner?”

He shrugged. “Some holding company. There wasn’t a name on the documents. Even when I did the closing, some lawyer did all the signing. I’m betting the real owner has never even stepped foot in Intrigue.”

“Interesting.”

Harley got to work on the design. She leaned back her head to keep out of his way and closed her eyes, trying to imagine what her opening would be like. Would the town embrace her new gallery like they had Jade’s metalwork? Or would they believe a store clerk couldn’t pull off something this big?

The bell above the door chimed, signaling another potential customer. She opened her eyes and every muscle tensed. It was Clint Callen. Her heart galloped. She hadn’t seen him since his parents’

thirtieth anniversary party, which was a few months ago.

His light brown hair was a bit shaggier than before, but his
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muscled shoulders still strained against his shirt. Maybe it was his sun-kissed skin that caused her pussy to dampen.

Harley glanced up. “Be with you in a sec, Clint.”
He knows him?
Intrigue, Wyoming wasn’t a big town, but she hadn’t expected Harley to know Clint Callen. He didn’t have a tat on him. Then again, the whole town had interacted with someone from the Callen family at one time. They were some of the richest people in the state.

Holding her breath, she waited for him to notice her, or rather to recognize her.
Aw, hell
. Just because she’d dyed her hair, it didn’t mean she’d changed as a person. When it came to the Callen brothers, she was never shy.

“Hello, Clint Callen.” She gave him her best
kiss me
smile.

He whipped around toward the sound and his eyes widened.

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