by Ranae Rose
“I think everyone in the shop has a little bit of a crush on you.” She was known around the studio as ‘Hot Make-Up Girl’, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. “They’ll all be jealous when I tell them I met you.”
She laughed, and he could tell she was embarrassed, so he shut up and deliberately avoided looking her brother in the eye.
Jed and James made small talk while Dylan bit his tongue and stole glances at Crystal … and caught her doing the same to him.
His heart beat faster as he watched her gaze travel slowly over his body, and then she looked up, meeting his eyes.
She blinked, looked away and then back, flashing him a tiny smile. He could’ve sworn she was blushing.
Jesus. He was in trouble. If she had a habit of hanging out at Hot Ink, there was no way he’d make it through the next three weeks without making an ass of himself. And he’d be tattooing right across the aisle from her big brother.
At least, he assumed James was older. Crystal looked younger, and a hell of a lot sweeter.
The small talk didn’t last long. Way before Dylan got tired of looking at Crystal, she disappeared into a booth with her brother, giving Dylan one last, quick look.
Was she going to be tattooed?
He would’ve liked to tattoo her – it would’ve been the perfect excuse to spend time with her without seeming like a creep – but there was probably zero chance of that, considering that her brother was a skilled artist.
“Just let me know if you need anything,” Jed said. “I’ll be here until closing tonight.”
“Right. Thanks again.” Dylan had all but forgotten about Jed’s existence.
Reluctantly, he left the shop and headed to his car. He moved on autopilot as he carried his bags in and set up for his stay in Pittsburgh. Instead of thinking of the client he’d be seeing the next day, he thought of Crystal.
CHAPTER 2
Crystal sank down into her computer chair with a happy sigh. She was finally in her own place – the modest two bedroom apartment was all hers. Hers and Emily’s.
She glanced over her shoulder at her sixteen month old daughter, who was sitting happily in the center of a blanket on the living room floor, playing with blocks.
The apartment was pretty empty, so far – she’d hired a local company to move her stuff the day before. They’d unloaded it into her new place after she’d gotten home from her tattoo consultation with James.
Hiring a moving service had cost her a chunk of cash, but not nearly as much as it would’ve if she’d actually had much stuff to her name.
Most of her belongings were baby things. She could’ve moved it all herself with James’ help, but she hadn’t wanted to trouble him. Not after all he’d done for her.
With a few keystrokes, she turned on her webcam. It was 10 am and the sunlight streaming through her living room window – the largest in the house – lit up the room nicely. She needed the bright natural lighting to illuminate her face and the make-up she’d be applying.
“Okay,” she began, giddy because she’d had two cups of coffee and – most importantly – because she was finally making a video in her own place.
It seemed fitting that it’d be one of the first things she did in her new home, since her earnings from her make-up tutorials were what had allowed her to afford the rent in the first place.
“This month, I’m going to show you how to seamlessly transition your summer look into fall, through a series of super-easy tutorials. We’ll start with the eyes…”
It was only August, but in a couple weeks, September would arrive. She wanted her autumn make-up tutorials to go live around the same time people would be shopping for fall fashions.
“Some people think of fall hues as colors strictly meant for those warm, autumn complexions. I’ve got a spring complexion though, and I promise you that there’s an autumn make-up palette for every complexion type. The key to choosing the most flattering colors for you is—”
An ominous sound snapped Crystal out of her monologue. Glancing to the right, she saw that Emily had made her way into the kitchen – which merged almost seamlessly with the living room – and pulled a box of Cheerios from a cupboard.
The contents of the box were scattered over the kitchen floor.
Sighing, Crystal shut off her webcam. The mess was her fault for failing to install childproof locks on the kitchen cabinets right away. Most of them were empty, but toddlers had a knack for finding trouble.
Emily giggled when Crystal took the empty cereal box and set it on the counter. Then she started wandering around the kitchen, opening the other cabinets and inspecting their barren insides. Cheerios stuck to the bottoms of her little feet, and she left a crushed cereal trail everywhere she went.
Crystal forgot about matte shadows, liquid eyeliner and volume-boosting mascara, focusing instead on cleaning up the mess.
She should’ve waited until Emily’s nap time to record the introduction to her tutorial, but she’d been excited to get to work in her new place. Oh well. She could always work on it that evening, since she had the day off from the department store.
The afternoon would be off-limits, though. She’d be dropping Emily off at daycare and then heading to Hot Ink. James had carved a block out of his busy schedule for her. The thought of getting her very first tattoo had butterflies swooping through her stomach.
Or maybe that was the thought of the incredibly hot guest artist she’d met the day before, Dylan. She still couldn’t believe he’d recognized her from her make-up tutorials. It’d never happened to her before, and he was the last kind of person she would’ve imagined knowing who she was. Not that she minded, exactly…
It’d been lust at first sight – something she hadn’t experienced since before Emily had been born. Maybe it was dumb, but she was glad to know that she still had the ability to feel a spark of attraction like that toward someone. For a while, she’d wondered if she was still capable.
Turned out, she was more than capable. Her cheeks grew hot as she remembered getting caught checking Dylan out. God, she’d been so obvious.
Clearly, she was out of practice with men.
That was probably a good thing – her last relationship had been a train wreck.
Actually, all her relationships had been train wrecks. She knew that fact was due in part to the poor choices she’d made, but memories of how she’d been mistreated still hurt. Mainly, the memory of how Emily’s father had disappeared into thin air when Crystal had told him about her pregnancy.
The thought slowed her heartbeat, which had become elevated when she’d thought of her brief meeting with Dylan the day before. The man was sex incarnate, and although she had her hands full with Emily and her new independent life, she figured fantasizing couldn’t hurt.
He’d given her a super-sweet smile when she’d met him, too. Since then she’d indulged in fantasies of him being the ever-elusive perfect guy: sinfully hot, but not a total jackass.
Those types of men were mere urban legends in her experience, but if she was ever going to have a shot at having a healthy relationship someday in the future, she couldn’t let herself get too bitter.
Maybe she’d see him again in a few hours, when she went in to be tattooed. The thought caused goose bumps to pop up on her arms and a little shiver to zip down her spine. She wasn’t sure which prospect had her more nervous: getting her first tattoo, or running into Dylan again.
* * * * *
Dylan’s best work was characterized by several traits: a vivid combination of bold color and black and grey, realistic imagery and plenty of space. He preferred clients who wanted to dedicate a significant amount of skin to a tattoo that would remain bold and beautiful for a lifetime. He didn’t do small, and he didn’t do subtle. And he drew clients who appreciated that.
Quite a few, actually – especially since his ill-advised stint on TV. He already had enough clients lined up to last him for the three weeks he’d be spending in Pittsburgh, and according to Jed, they’d ne
ver booked a guest artist’s slots so quickly.
It was weird how much people cared about the fact that he’d once been on TV. He knew plenty of artists who were better at what they did than the people he’d met on that show. Still, it’d given him a lot of exposure.
What would his clients who were fans of the show think if they knew he wished he’d never gone on air?
He didn’t know, and didn’t have the mental energy to wonder. At the moment, the only client he wanted to dwell on was James’ – James’ sister, Crystal.
He couldn’t stop remembering the way she’d looked at him when they’d met the day before, and the sight of her walking into Hot Ink again this afternoon had his mind churning again.
Churning with fantasies and what-ifs. Was she single?
Asking James would be a dick move. He wanted to ask Crystal, but pouncing on her as soon as she walked out of her brother’s tattoo booth would probably be a dick move, too. He was only supposed to be in town for three weeks, and he didn’t want to create any bad blood at Hot Ink by making it look like he was preying on James’ sister for a quick fling.
Not that he wouldn’t enjoy the hell out of a fling, if she was into that – it’d been a while since anyone had captivated his imagination as thoroughly as she had. But there was also the possibility that he might stay in Pittsburgh for good. He didn’t know if Jed had shared that particular piece of information with the other artists at Hot Ink, though.
He sank down onto his chair and tried not to think about the beautiful woman across the aisle. His first Pittsburgh client was due to arrive in half an hour, and the guy deserved all of his attention.
He read the consultation sheet the client had submitted to him online, just to refresh his memory. The piece he’d be tattooing today was a design that featured two ravens extended in flight across the client’s shoulders and upper back. He could already see the tattoo in his mind, and had drawn up a sketch. When the client arrived, he’d make an updated sketch designed to conform to the size, shape and contours of his client’s body.
He was excited about the piece. The ravens would stand out against a backdrop of branches that were leafless but budding with red blossoms, and the tips of their extended wings would bleed out into a graceful fury of black spatter, almost like paint or extra ink.
One of the birds carried a twig bearing the only fully bloomed blossom in the entire scene. It was an intense design that he felt confident his client would love, based off of what he’d said about his desires for the tattoo.
A familiar sense of pride and anticipatory satisfaction hit Dylan as he glanced at the clock. There was something about this particular design that had demanded more of him than his usual pieces.
Maybe it was the concentrated brilliance of the blossoms glowing red amongst all the black, or maybe it was that he’d turned ravens – not exactly the most beloved of birds – into vibrant beings that transcended their black and grey world, carrying a piece of that unexpected brilliance with them.
To him, the tattoo conveyed a sense of freedom and transcendence, a heady combination that made his heart beat a little faster. For a second, he wondered if he’d put too much of himself into the tattoo, made it his own instead of his client’s. But no…
He read the consult sheet yet again and thought back to the e-mails he’d exchanged with the guy. And he truly felt that he’d nailed the elements and mood he’d wanted in his tattoo.
This would be some of his best work; he could feel it. He was off to a good start in Pittsburgh. As the buzzing sound of a tattoo machine drifted from across the aisle, he dared to wonder how much better things might get.
* * * * *
Crystal had stayed the course of her new life for a year now, and she felt more secure – and happier – than she ever had. For the first time in her life, she had purpose, and the strength of spirit to see it through.
She was twenty-seven and done searching for something to make her feel artificially whole. The past had punched a lot of holes in her heart, but becoming Emily’s mother and being reunited with James had done more to fill them than anything else ever had.
Now, she wanted to put as much distance between her past and her current life as she could. Time might not heal all wounds, but she figured it’d help, and she could speed up the process by not making any more shitty choices.
“Ready to take a look?” James asked, standing beside the chair she’d sat in while being tattooed.
She could still feel the heat between her shoulder blades, where he’d tattooed her. The single session had taken a couple hours and she’d sat through it without any major problems. Now, her heart skipped a beat at the prospect of finally seeing the finished product.
Her fresh start felt like spring after a lifetime of winter, and she’d asked James to design something for her with that in mind.
He’d created a design featuring a purple crocus blossom. Crocuses were tough and bloomed earlier than most flowers, even while there was still snow on the ground. The flower’s petals had been wet with beads of water, like melted snow, in the sketch. When she turned to look in the mirror, she saw that the water droplets looked real – everything did.
“What do you think?” He asked after a few moments.
“I love it.” She wanted to elaborate, but her throat felt alarmingly tight. Her eyes stung too, but she would not, under any circumstances, allow herself to cry.
Two years younger than James, she’d always been the crier when they were little and had depended on him to ease her distress as best he could. It’d been a huge burden to place on a child, and as an adult, she realized that he’d given her a luxury he’d never had: the luxury of having someone who cared enough to provide comfort.
A year ago, she’d thrust another enormous responsibility on him. Now, she was determined to finally be mature. He’d given her a gift by creating the beautiful tattoo for her, and she knew tears wouldn’t be the best way to convey her gratitude, even if they were tears of joy.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said.
She managed to remain stoic as he bandaged it for her and gave her aftercare instructions.
“Whatever you do,” he said in conclusion, “don’t scratch it.”
“I won’t.” She wouldn’t do anything to ruin the beautiful work of art.
“Are you busy for the rest of the day?” she asked, hoping she could buy him a late lunch.
He nodded. “My next client is probably waiting out on the couch right now.”
“Oh.” She tried not to let her disappointment show. As much as she loved her new place, she had a feeling she was going to miss having him around.
The year she’d just spent living with him had been the first time she’d had a sense of family since they’d last been together in the same foster home as children.
“Maybe I could swing by your place tomorrow morning before I come in,” he suggested. “See the new apartment.”
“Okay. I’ve got to be at work at noon tomorrow, though.”
He shrugged. “Me too. I won’t make you late.”
She left him to clean up his booth, not wanting to infringe on the next client’s time. Not that she was technically a client when James had refused to accept payment for her tattoo.
On the way out, she stopped by the reception desk.
“Hey Crystal,” said Mina, a pretty brunette wearing one of the Hot Ink Tattoo Studio t-shirts they sold to customers. A wedding ring sparkled on her left hand – she was married to Eric, one of Hot Ink’s artists. They’d first met as artist and client, though that had been long before Crystal had moved back to Pittsburgh. “How was your very first tattoo session?”
She smiled. “I didn’t cry, and I love the tattoo, so that’s a success, right?”
Mina smiled back. “I’d say so.”
“Can you do something for me?” Crystal asked.
“Sure.”
She dug in her purse and pulled out an envelope. “This is a tip for James.”
“No problem.” Mina took the envelope and opened the register. When she pulled out the envelope’s contents, she paused, the stack of bills in hand.
“Wow. I can honestly say this is the biggest tip I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been working here for years. Are you sure you gave me the right envelope?”
“I’m sure. I owe James a lot, but I can’t get him to take anything from me. I want him to have this, and this way, he can’t say no.”
“All right, then. I’ll make sure he gets it.”
Crystal walked out of the studio with a spring in her step, feeling relieved and a little smug. She doubted James would be happy when he discovered the tip, but she felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. The feeling of lightness followed her all the way into the café across the street.
She was hungry and the thought of coffee was also appealing, as always, but she forgot all about those things before she even reached the counter.
Dylan was sitting at a table near the window – she recognized him immediately. Her gaze was drawn first to his muscular, colorfully tattooed arms, which were folded on the table, and then to his face.
He had light, caramel brown hair and dark eyes – eyes she remembered well from yesterday. As she strode by his table, he looked up and their eyes locked.
Butterflies burst into flight inside her stomach. She opened her mouth, but all that slipped out was a shaky breath. Being caught off-guard by Dylan had filled her with a sudden case of nerves, and she just stood there like an idiot, clutching her purse as if it were a lifeline.
God, she was pathetic! She hadn’t thought anything could be more embarrassing than being caught checking him out the day before, but this topped that.
There’d been a time when she’d been an unrepentant flirt, but those skills seemed to belong to the old Crystal. Her newfound awkwardness made her want to cringe, until Dylan spoke, breaking the spell of silence.
CHAPTER 3