by Jacob Chance
“I’m Josh.”
We shake hands.
“This is my girl, Georgia.”
“Hi.,” She waves.
“It’s nice to meet you both. After we spoke on the phone yesterday, I drew up something for you. Why don’t you come back with me and we can get started.”
I clap my hands together once. “Let’s do this. Georgie, do you want to keep looking for something you might want to get?”
She surprises me when she nods. “Yeah, sure.”
“Just head back this way,” Josh points, “last door on the right.”
“Okay, thanks.” She catches my eye and smiles at me. “Be brave.”
“I’ll do my best, but I might need you to come hold my hand.” I wink before following Josh. He leads me to a large room and gestures toward a chair.
“Have a seat.”
I maneuver onto the black leather chair that resembles something from a barber shop. “Am I getting a haircut or a tattoo?”
Josh laughs. “We haven’t branched out beyond tattoos, but I’ll keep it in mind. I’ve heard of worse ideas.” He grabs a piece of paper from the counter. “So, let me show you what I drew based on the description you gave me. Hopefully, it’s what you had in mind.” He hands over the sketch, and my eyes land on the image.
“Dude, this is fecking amazing. You nailed it. Everything I wanted is included.”
Josh smiles. “Glad to hear it. Is there anything you’d want to change?”
I shake my head. “Not a thing.”
“Excellent. On the phone, you mentioned wanting it on your left pec. Does that still work?”
“Yes.” Sitting up, I remove my long sleeved t-shirt, setting it in my lap.
Josh’s eyes skim over my bruised ribs and he lets out a long, low whistle. “Looks painful, man.”
“Nah, it’s not too bad anymore.”
It takes a few minutes for Josh to set everything up. “Let’s get started.” Pushing a lever on the chair, it slowly reclines.
“Hydraulic eh?” I’m impressed.
“Yeah, they’re a new addition, but well worth the investment.”
“It’s pretty comfortable too. I might doze off on ya.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time a client fell asleep in my chair. I’m going to shave your chest first.”
“Good luck finding any hairs.”
“One is too many.”
My thoughts drift to Georgia, and I wonder what she’s doing. I should’ve had her come back with me. Now I’m worried that someone is bothering her while I’m not around.
He wets my chest with water from a spray bottle and lays the transfer paper with the drawing on my skin.
The buzz when he turns on the machine isn’t an unfamiliar sound to me. While I may not have gotten any ink before, over the years, plenty of my friends have.
“Is this your first tattoo?”
“Aye.”
“Hold still.”
“That’s the plan.” There’s a faint scratching feeling on my skin. It’s not so much painful as it is distracting.
I focus on picturing Georgia’s face one detail at a time. First, I start with the oval shape, and then add her sparkling orbs.
I’ve heard people refer to eyes as the windows to your soul, and in Georgia’s case that’s absolutely true. Everything she thinks and feels shows in her green eyes. Even her iris color varies depending on her mood. When she’s angry or frustrated with me they darken to an emerald green.
Next, I imagine the fine, straight lines of her narrow nose and add her rosy, plump lips that I love to kiss below it. High cheekbones and dark, arched eyebrows complete the ensemble of features, and all together she’s a fecking masterpiece.
“How are you doing?” Josh checks in.
“All’s well, man.”
“Let me know if you need a break.”
“Will do.”
After another five minutes, give or take, Georgia appears in the doorway. I beckon her over and her eyes pop open comically wide when she sees the tattoo.
She gasps. “Brennan, are you crazy?”
“Is that a rhetorical question? I think ya know me well enough that I don’t really need to answer.”
“Are you sure you want to finish that?” She points her chin at my chest.
“It’s going to look pretty fucked up if I stop now,” Josh chimes in.
“What’s the matter, Georgie? Does this make you nervous?” I look down at the Claddagh symbol on my chest. Done in shades of gray and black, the details make it appear to be carved from stone. The green banner below it mimics the shade of Georgia’s eyes and her name is written in all capitals to be prominently displayed.
“Yes...no...maybe.”
“Which is it?”
“I guess a little. It is permanent.”
“And so are we, luv.”
“I know. I’m just surprised by it all. You’re a man of many surprises, Brennan Collins.”
“Aye. I figured you’d be used to them by now.”
She cocks her head, staring at the large tattoo. “This is a doozy.”
“At least it’s legal,” I point out, and Josh chuckles. As the brother of a biker, he’s no stranger to hearing about illegal acts.
“This is true,” Georgia agrees.
We fall silent and let Josh work in peace for the remainder of the time. He wipes my chest with a damp paper towel. “Go check it out.” He nods toward the full-length mirror.
I practically spring up from the chair in my haste to see how it looks. “Dude, this is sick. Your work is fecking amazing.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you’re pleased.”
“Pleased? That’s an understatement.”
Josh comes over and disinfects the tattooed area with some green soap and water, explaining what he’s doing and then he wipes the moisture away with a paper towel. He slathers on some vitamin A and D ointment and covers it with a sterile pad and tape.
I turn to Georgia, flexing and making my muscles jump under my skin. “What do you think, Georgie? Do we need to get home?” I wiggle my brows.
She giggles. “As tempting as your offer is, I thought it was my turn now?”
I grin. “For real? You really want to get a tattoo?”
She gives a slight half shrug. “Why not?”
“Give me a few minutes to wipe everything down and set up. Did you see something you like in one of the books out front?”
“I have something in mind.” She tells him the details while I watch her and beam like a fool. I think I’m more excited about her getting inked than she is. But this is an experience we’re doing together and we’ll always remember it.
Tugging her into my arms, I lean down, whispering in her ear, “We’re losing our virginity together.”
She snorts. “It’s a little late for that.”
“There are still plenty of firsts we can do together. They don’t have to be sexual. Get your mind out of the gutter, dirty girl. Actually, scratch that. Keep it there.”
“Pfft. Who’s the dirty one?”
“I think it’s a toss up, Georgie, as it should be.”
“Georgia, you can take a seat,” Josh calls out.
“Wish me luck.” She raises her lips and I can’t resist her silent request. Her soft, warm mouth has me wanting to bend her over the chair and take what’s mine. Instead, I clamp down on my raging libido and show some restraint.
Georgia’s fingers go to the buttons on her flannel shirt. I scowl and I’m about to protest, when I notice the tank top she’s wearing underneath. She peels the long sleeved shirt off and hands it to me.
“So, what are we doing and where’s it going?”
She answers, but I can’t hear what she said. She shows him something on her phone. He studies it for a minute and then nods before walking over to the counter. I notice he’s drawing, and it has me curious to see what she chose.
He returns, pausing at the side of the chair.
Georgia u
ndoes her jeans and rocks them down lower on her hips and then drops onto the chair.
“Georgia,” I grit out her name.
“What?”
“What in the feck do you think you’re doing?”
Her forehead crinkles in the middle as she glares my way. “Duh, I’m about to eat a sandwich.” Her reply oozes sarcasm. “What do you think I’m doing?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Oh, I don’t know. Is there a reason why your pants are half off?”
“It’s hard to get a tattoo on my lower stomach through my jeans.” Her gaze moves to Josh, and he’s doing his best to pretend he’s not here. Her eyes swing back to me.
“Why don’t you put it on your shoulder?” I ask.
“Because I want it on my stomach,” she enunciates slowly.
“Are we good to start?” Josh questions.
“No,” I bark.
“Yes,” she spits, narrowing her eyes at me. For the sake of ever having the privilege of seeing her naked again, I bite my tongue and back down.
Josh does all the same steps he did with me before the buzz of his machine is heard. “Hold still,” he reminds her.
“I’m good to go.”
She doesn’t even react when the needle hits her skin for the first time. My woman is braver than most men, and at this moment she’s angry with me. Avoiding my gaze, she looks everywhere but in my direction.
She’s so adorable when she’s pissed off. I raise my hand and cover my mouth, pretending to stroke each side of my moustache so she won’t notice my amusement.
While I’m not happy about Josh being in such close proximity to my woman, at least her tattoo doesn’t take longer than thirty minutes from start to finish.
Josh wipes it down and hands her a hand mirror.
“Oh my God, it’s so beautiful.”
There’s a seashell done in soft shades of pink and purple on the left side of her lower stomach.
“Why the shell, luv?”
“This isn’t just any shell, Brennan. This is a Knobbed Whelk that’s commonly found in Cape Hatteras. Do you remember seeing these on the beach when we were there?”
“I do, but I didn’t make the connection until you pointed it out. Why did you choose this?” I’m hoping I know the answer.
“Well, there are a few reasons. One, that was where we fell in love, and two, I wanted to be able to have the reminder of our time there forever. When you were taken and I was told you were dead, I grabbed a seashell from the beach to bring home with me. I wanted something concrete from there to remind me of you. I showed Josh a picture of the shell that I’d taken with my phone, so it could look exactly like the one I brought back to Boston.”
Josh is gone from the room and I’m not sure when he left. Whether it’s by design or a happy accident, I don’t know and I don’t care.
Wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, I steal her breath with my lips, like she’s already stolen mine with her words and her loving heart.
I press my forehead to hers. “I love that you got inked with me. Even though there’s so much up in the air for us, we still found a way to make the most of today. No matter what life throws at us, we’re going to do our best to dodge the negative things and embrace the positives.”
Her arms wrap tighter around me. “That’s what I’m doing right now.”
“What’s that?”
She looks at me like I’m clueless. “I’m embracing you. You know—embracing the positive.”
“And you think my jokes are bad?”
“Shut up and kiss me before you piss me off, again,” she orders.
“When we get home I’m going hunting for a seashell,” I state. Closing my mouth over hers, no more words are needed as we let our tongues stroke and twist, speaking the universal language of love.
I can’t believe this is my life. How did an irredeemable asshole like me end up here with Georgia?
Chapter Sixteen
Georgia
After my shower, I get dressed in black pants and a pale pink button down shirt that I would typically wear to work. For appearances sake, everything needs to seem like an average day. I don’t want to accidentally send out any red flags. Just because we found out my friends aren’t involved doesn’t mean someone at headquarters isn’t.
Wrapping an elastic around my ponytail, I take a final glance at my face in the mirror. Do I look like my normal self? I don’t notice anything in my expression that could tip anyone off that anything is suspect. In fact, I look better than usual. There’s a healthy flush to my cheeks and a sparkle in my eyes that Belfast is responsible for.
It might be difficult to explain how I look so bright and shiny when I’m supposed to convince Dr. Morrisey that I’m falling into a depression.
Belfast drives me to work in a vehicle I’ve never seen before, but I’m liking the dark tint of the windows. They give me a sense of comfort knowing that no one can tell who’s inside.
“We need to stop at Dunks on the way.”
“Really, Georgie?”
“What? You guys were the ones saying that I need to act as though nothing is wrong. I always grab coffee on my way to work. Besides, you’re going to be sitting in this car for a while. You might want something too “
“Okay,” he grumbles. “I do like their plain donuts.”
His begrudging agreement is childlike, and I bite back a laugh.
After a quick trip through the Dunks drive through, we head straight to Chelsea. He pulls into the lot and parks the car before turning to me.
“You’re clear on what you need to do?”
I nod. “I am. Don’t worry. This is a piece of cake compared to what you and I have been through.” I caress his short beard with my fingers.
He catches hold of my hand, raising it to his lips and pressing a kiss on the back. His worry-filled eyes stare deeply into mine, and I almost forget why we’re here. My heart, so full of love for this man, aches in the best of ways.
“Pay attention to everyone and everything while you’re in there. There’s no one who’s not a suspect where you’re concerned.”
“I know. I’ve got this. Where’s your confidence in me?” I jest, trying to ease his fears.
“It’s not you that I’m worried about, luv. It’s that I can’t go in there and protect you.”
“This is my place of work, Brennan. It’s like my second home. Stop worrying.” Leaning over, I press a soft, slow kiss to his lips. The fact that he doesn’t grab hold and deepen the kiss tells me how concerned he really is. When has he ever missed an opportunity to do so?
Drawing back, I smile and pat his cheek. “Eat your donuts, and I’ll be back before you know it.”
He smiles briefly and then grows serious. “Don’t lose track of time. Drop me a text when you’re about to head into your appointment with the doctor.”
“Yes, sir.” I wink, opening the door. Slipping outside, I turn to face him once more. “Stay in the car.”
“I love you too.” I don’t miss the fact that he ignores my order.
“I’m serious. I don’t want to worry about your safety while I’m doing what’s needed.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Georgie.”
“I love you, Brennan.” I blow him a kiss. He catches it and presses his hand over his heart. I close my door and head toward the main entrance, praying this morning goes as smoothly as it should.
After I exchange pleasantries with the security guards and pass through the metal detector, I ride the elevator alone. The quiet gives me some final time to visualize what I need to say and do in my appointment.
Once on my floor, I drop a coffee off at Zoe’s desk, and then head to Sam’s office. Knocking on the door, I wait for him to call me in. Stepping inside, I close the door behind me and turn to face him. My sheepish expression turns to one of surprised horror when I see his terribly bruised face.
“Oh my God.” I hurry over. The hand holding the tray of coffees shakes and I set it down
on his desk. “Sam, fuck. I’m really sorry.” One hand covers my mouth and my eyes fill with tears. I can’t help feeling badly. Belfast went extra hard on Sam because of me.
“Georgia.” He nods.
“I brought you a coffee, but maybe I should’ve brought you a raw steak.” I blurt out the first thing that pops into my mind.
Sam laughs. “The coffee is great. And this,” he points to his face, “was a little too pretty before. I’ll look more rugged now.” He winks his least bruised eye.
“Oh, Sam.” I laugh at his reply, but a tear tips over my lashes, falling down my cheek. I quickly swipe it away, embarrassed by how emotional I’m getting. “I’m so sorry. I feel like this is my fault.”
“How is it your fault? Did you slap me?”
“No.”
“Then it’s not because of you. If you want to place blame on someone, put it on the circumstances that caused it.”
“You’re not blaming Belfast?” I’m shocked.
He shakes his head. “He only reacted the way he did because he thought we were against you guys. I would’ve done the same in his position.”
“You’re a pretty special guy, Sam Beck. I hope you meet a woman who will appreciate how wonderful you are.”
“You didn’t,” he points out.
“That’s only because my heart already belongs to Belfast, and nothing’s going to change that.”
He angles his head, carefully studying me. “Not even his criminal ways?”
“We haven’t worked out all the logistics, but we’ll have to come to some kind of agreement that can work for both of us.”
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t see you lasting long as the wife of a professional criminal.”
I laugh. “Probably not. But if it came down to choosing him or being an agent, I’d choose him in a second.”
“You’re that sure about your feelings for him?”
“I am.”
“Good. Something positive needs to come out of all the devastation this department has been through.”
“Are we good, Sam?” I roll my lips inward as I nervously wait for his answer.
“We are. As long as you keep bringing me coffee,” he adds.
“For how long?” I ask.