Beautiful Disaster (Page 82)

With the head start they’ve had from Bella’s tattoo being completely planned already when we got here, and the whole piece being smaller than my dragon, it’s no surprise Mandy is done long before her father. After giving Bella a short respite Carlos and Mandy switch places to include the parts Bella and I have agreed on before – a stylized black dragon soon circles the stem of her lily, while my half-finished dragon clutches a lily in the talons of his left front leg. Each of us will now bear a part of the other with us, wherever we go, come what may.

Once Carlos takes over again, Mandy and Bella leave the room, the tattoo artist murmuring something about showing her the rest of the studio. There are no other customers left as it’s very close to closing time already, and to me at least it seems as if Mandy is aching for a smoke.

Finally on our own Carlos clears his throat, then chuckles softly.

"It’s usually the slight girls who are the toughest. Don’t let her get to you, you’re handling this well. Just last week I’ve had to stop after twenty minutes because a guy couldn’t handle it anymore. Not a problem, we all have our good and bad days."

I try to take that with the humor the situation deserves, but my ego is still bruised.

"Sure. But it’s a little embarrassing."

He gives a noncommittal grunt before he sets to switching colors one last time, adding green highlights to the blue scaled beast.

"Guess that depends. You one of the guys who can’t handle his girl being better at anything than him?"

"Oh, I know she’s better than me in pretty much everything."

"But?"

"I’m not used to being the squeamish one."

Carlos seems to weigh my words as he cleans up some of the residual ink.

The tissue halts for a moment at the faint scar close to my elbow, right next to the lily.

"Single-tail?"

His question surprises me, but a glance at his knowing look he’s giving me makes me shake my head, laughing.

"No, bullwhip."

"Ah," he wisely surmises, then gets back to working on the scales. I wonder if I should say more, and part of me feels the need to clarify that I’m more comfortable with being the one on the other end of the whip, but then I figure I might as well let him believe that Bella beats me up on a daily basis.

Eventually we’re done, too, and I take my time admiring the piece of art now covering my arm. The animal looks ready to jump right off my skin, sinewy and strong, while at the same time he is ready to protect his precious flower. I just love it, and when Bella and Mandy rejoin us, I’m nearly as jumpy as she’s been all day to show it to her. So much so that it takes me a full minute to realize that she’s a little white in the face herself, but I figure that is most likely from her tatt hurting more now that it’s done than it did in the process of creation.

Before we go, Mandy takes a few pictures of our tattoos, then a few more of us both together, from the side with my arm curled around Bella’s side so that my dragon ends up right next to her lily – and two more with us kissing that way. She already has Bella’s email address and promises to send us the best ones, while two print-outs will join the huge wall of their happy customers at the back of the studio.

Armed with a whole arsenal of cleaning products and instructions we finally take our leave and head back home. Bella is unusually quiet in the passenger seat, but I don’t worry too much when I see her lift her right shoulder periodically where it sits very lightly against the backrest of the seat. It costs me a lot not to add a few taunting remarks but I decide to act more mature than my ego wants me to and hold my tongue until we’re back home.

I have to admit, it feels like a small weight has been lifted off my chest when we find the living room empty, and a note from Jazz telling us that he’s out with a few of his colleagues, trying to round up a few more people for his business – and won’t be back for several hours still. To me at least it seems like he’s making an effort not to get on our nerves too much, and I appreciate that, even though Bella keeps frowning at the note for nearly a minute.

"Would you really prefer if he’d be so broken that he’s all curled up on our couch the whole time?"

She must have been lost in her own thoughts because she jumps at the sound of my voice, then hastily puts the note down and shakes her head.

"No, of course not. I just hope he doesn’t take an example from Alice and goes into full-blown avoidance mode now."

Nothing I can add to that, really, so I hug her from behind and pull her against me, relishing the low laugh she rewards me with.

"Stop it, you insatiable beast you!"

"Beast, huh?"

"Yes, a beast," she huffs, then tabs the bandage over my tatt lightly. "That dragon really fits you perfectly. Although I think it still lacks some smoke coming from its nostrils, when it’s huffing and puffing indignantly."

I accept her jab with a grunt, then retaliate by letting my arms slip from around her so I can tickle her sides. Now she’s squealing, and before I can catch her again Bella dances away from me and towards the bedroom.

"No, you don’t!" she complains when I make as if to grab her again, making me raise my eyebrow.

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"I can’t help it, you seem awfully cocky tonight. I think something must have gotten to your head. What you really need right now is a good lesson in proper behavior."

Her eyes light up at my ‘threat’, but then she bites her lip and shakes her head.

"Not tonight. And I really need to use the bathroom now. Gotta see the tatt from up close."

Then she’s gone, leaving me with the distinct feeling that my girl just cockblocked me in the most blatant of ways. Following her upstairs, I stay in the bedroom and give her what time she needs in the bathroom, which is an awful lot as I soon realize. I’m even a little concerned by the time she exits it again and pads over to me. When I kiss her I taste a hint of something I didn’t really expect.

"Painkillers? That bad?"

She shrugs, avoiding my gaze, but when I catch her hand and draw her down onto the bed next to me, she offers me a small, apologetic smile.

"Not the tattoo."

I mentally go through all the conversations we’ve had today, wondering if she’s mentioned something like the onset of a headache, but come up blank. Then something else occurs to me.

"Just what were you and Mandy up to when she was giving you the tour?

As far as I remember the studio’s not that large."

Bella shrugs again, the gesture obviously too offhand to be real, but when she sees that I don’t buy it, she drops the act of innocence. Instead she’s back to gnawing on her lip, her standard nervous gesture, but her gaze is laden with something heavier than just chagrin at avoiding me.

"We might have been up to something else, too, yes."

"Something else, huh?"

"Yes," she said, pronouncing the word very precisely, before she crawls backwards off the bed until she’s standing right next to me. I follow her movements with my eyes only, and watch in silence as she wrings her hands, then ditches her sweater and halter top she’s wearing underneath, leaving her in her pants and the dark blue halter bikini top she’s chosen to avoid any bra straps causing her discomfort over her new tattoo.

"You know, this is probably just because I’ve been watching too much  p**n ."

"There is nothing like too much  p**n ," I reply, grinning up at her. She huffs, then smiles back.

"Okay, scratch that then, maybe I’ve been watching just enough  p**n  to get curious. Not that I want to attempt a new career as a Suicide Girl, but, you know, I’m a terribly curious person."