Tattoo (Take It Off #7)(31)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“Trying to get rid of your babysitter?”

“Yeah, and then you showed up.” I glanced over my shoulder to mock scowl at him. The scowl didn’t go very well though because I was completely distracted by the way he leaned his hip into the counter and casually flung out his leg. His arms were folded over his chest and the tattoos on his arms were in full view.

Did I mention I really, really liked the way he looked?

“I’m not so bad, am I?” He gave me a knowing smile.

I plopped a huge helping of the casserole on a plate, added a little butter, a drizzle of syrup, a fork, and handed it to him. I wasn’t about to tell him just before he arrived I had wished I could see him.

He took the plate, scooped up a huge forkful, and shoved it in his mouth.

“You’re going to choke,” I admonished.

“You know mouth to mouth?” he asked around the food he was chewing.

I rolled my eyes and served myself a much more sensible piece. I sat down on one of the nearby stools and Brody came over to sit beside me. “What is this?” he asked, shoving yet another huge bite into his mouth. Then he growled. “It’s good.”

“It’s pumpkin French toast bake. She makes it a lot. It is really good,” I replied, taking a bite. The bread melted in my mouth and the sugary sweetness of the syrup slid over my tongue.

“Is she single?” he asked.

“I think so.”

“Think she’d marry me?”

I snorted. “She’s twice your age.”

“I like a woman with experience,” he quipped, shoving the last bite into his mouth.

I knew he was only teasing, but part of me felt a little disappointed. It was clear by the way he kissed and by the way he moved that Brody was very experienced. While I had dated, my experience was a lot less than his.

I pushed another bite into my mouth to avoid having to reply. He pushed off the stool and went to the coffeemaker sitting on the counter. “How do you work this thing?”

“Just push the start button. It should already be ready to brew.”

A little beep filled the silence and then the fresh scent of brewing coffee filled the room. “So do you live here with your dad?” he asked as he helped himself to another huge piece of French toast.

“If he had his way I would,” I answered, setting aside my fork. “But, no, I live a few miles away in a townhouse. My best friend lives there with me, but right now she’s in Europe.”

“So you’re staying here.”

“For now.” Brody returned to the stool right beside me and I turned toward him. “He’s very protective, to the point of frustration, but I can also understand.”

“Is it just you and him?”

I nodded. “For the last two years. My mom passed away from breast cancer. Before she died, he wasn’t as bad as he is now, but losing her was…” I paused and cleared my throat. Just thinking of her and the pain she went through before the disease finally claimed her life caused emotion to well up inside me. “It was really hard. Now I’m all he has left.”

“Cancer sucks,” Brody said, shoving another bite into his mouth.

I laughed. I was so used to hearing the obligatory, “I’m so sorry for your loss,” that having him come right out and say what he was thinking was refreshing. “Yes, it does.”

“I figure you take after your mom in the looks department?”

“Yes, I look a lot like her. Which I think is also another reason my father is so protective.”

“Makes sense.”

“What about you? Do your parents live around here?” I asked as he finished up his second plate of food.

“They live outside of Raleigh. I don’t see them much.”

“Do you have any brothers and sisters?”

“I have a brother, but I don’t see him much either.”

“Oh.” I was very close to my father and mother before she died. I’d always wanted siblings, but by the time my parents thought of having more, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer and having more children wasn’t an option. She went into remission when I was ten, for several years, but then it came back. She fought it for a very long time, but eventually her body just couldn’t fight anymore.

“With the kind of life I live, the kind of job I do, it’s safer for my family not be around me so much,” he explained, watching me.

“That sounds lonely.” My heart ached for him. I knew he thought staying away from his family was only helping them, but what about him? He didn’t have anyone.

“I’m hardly ever alone.”

“But are you surrounded by people you actually like?”

“You need to eat more than two bites,” he told me, ignoring my question. Brody picked up my fork and stabbed a bite of food on it to hold up to my mouth.

I parted my lips, allowing him to slip the food inside.

I didn’t ask the question again because his lack of response was a very telling answer. Brody was lonely. He was just either too blind to see it or too stubborn to admit it.

15

Brody

Her hair was in two thick braids that fell over her shoulders. Her black pants were like a second skin and the loose, blue shirt buttoned up over her body couldn’t disguise how sexy she was. She still seemed a little worn out, with light-purple smudges beneath her eyes, but even tired, she was beautiful.

I wasn’t used to thinking of women as beautiful. Hot? Yes. Desirable? Of course. Likable? Sometimes. But never beautiful.

There wasn’t much beauty in the world I lived in. Even physical beauty could be overshadowed by what lay just beneath the surface. Living in the ghetto, living deep undercover for years taught me that. Usually, if I did meet a woman who could be considered beautiful, she ruined it all by opening her mouth, getting into a bar fight, or ho-ing herself out to every guy she thought would give her a little bit more than what she already had.

The streets weren’t kind to beauty. Beauty was easily corrupted. Beauty was easily tarnished.

Taylor was untarnished. Her beauty remained even after she opened her mouth. In fact, her beauty intensified. I might not like her father, but he did right by this girl. He shielded her, he took care of her, and he kept the rareness of her beauty intact. Sure, he was a little overprotective, but the more time I spent with Taylor, the more I understood.

Even guarded by money and a loving father hadn’t kept her innocent. I was glad for that. I was too corrupt for innocence. True, I didn’t know her very well, but I knew enough to see she had the kind of backbone a person only formed when adversity stepped in their path.