Текст книги "Under Locke"
Автор книги: Mariana Zapata
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Whoa. I had no idea he'd done all that. He'd shown up to yia-yia's house with bruised knuckles but I'd been so worried about our relationship, it just hadn't seemed like the time to push. "He came to stay with us for about a month. Now he's mad because I didn't tell him about going to Busty's."
"He'll get over it," Dex said, squeezing my hip.
"Eventually."
He hummed again. "He's mad but he'll get over it. You just gotta quit keepin' shit to yourself."
"I know." I sighed. "I know. I won't. Not to any of you again."
Those familiar fingers, tipped in black ink, threaded through mine and he growled, "You better not."
Chapter Thirty-Two
I was torn between wanting to kill Luther and giving him a hug.
The only thing keeping me from figuring out a way to overflow his toilet was the fact that there had been quinoa patties waiting for me on his kitchen island. Because I mean, they were quinoa patties. Someone, somewhere had made these and I doubted that the Club had any other vegetarians in their crew besides me from the stink old Pete had made with the black bean burgers.
So for that, he'd live and his toilet would survive to see another day.
But for inviting that Becky girl and a handful of other women that gave Dex the googley eyes when their dates weren't looking—Luther would suffer imaginary torture.
Repeatedly.
When the heck had I become this person? This girl that had to grit her teeth because jealousy threatened to make her pop a few blood vessels. The smile on my face felt forced, fake, unnatural.
And the worst part was that we'd only been at his house for fifteen minutes tops.
Why hadn’t I pushed harder to stay at Dex’s house instead? I’d told Dex I didn’t want to go. It wasn’t necessarily that I never wanted to see Luther or other Widowmakers again. I just didn’t want to see them any time soon. The whole crap in Dex’s office had been mortifying. The last thing I wanted was for them to look at me with “Poor Ris” on their faces.
I hated that damn look.
Dex had simply looked at me with those thoughtful eyes and stroked the line of my nose. “You told me to go fuck myself in front of club members. You, who says friggin’ and ef, babe.” He blinked. “Think you called me a dickface, too. Didn’t ya?”
Whoops. That was a positive.
The tip of his finger tapped my nose as he exhaled loudly. “Trust me, honey. I’m sorry I said that to you but the only thing anybody is gonna remember from that day is what you called me, not the other way around.”
I had supposed in that moment that Dex had a point. Hadn’t he gotten into a fight after that?
I finally relented and agreed to go to Luther’s place. The possibility that there might be people there that knew Dex more intimately than I did never even occurred to me.
Based on the number of bodies at his house, the "get together" Dex had told me about that morning, was going to be an all day event. It wasn't like I could complain. I didn't have any right to judge him for the people he'd been with...I couldn't even finish the thought without nausea clawing its way up my throat.
I was that jealous bitch.
I bumped into a short blonde as I shuffled out of the kitchen with my friggin' quinoa patty and fruit salad in hand. The girl looked in my direction and gave me a slow, apprising smile. In jeans that looked painted on and a tank top that barely held in her huge boobs, she was all confidence. And gigantic boobies.
"Sorry," she said in a soft voice that wasn't entirely convincing.
Oh boy. Had Dex slept with her too?
You don't want to know.
Oh hell.
I flashed her a strained smile. "Sorry about that."
And then I fled.
Wuss.
Luther's massive backyard was packed with Widowmakers and their families. There was a pretty big pool right smack in the middle of the property with quite a bit of kids splashing around, screaming. Adults littered the folding tables and chairs that had been set up around the perimeter as classic rock blasted through the speakers mounted on the back patio.
It was nice. Really friggin' nice.
But just like at Dex's niece's party, I felt out of place without my brother and the black-haired man I'd slept under last night. The only way to change that was by making friends, right?
But I could make friends later. When I wasn't standing awkwardly by the door like my freshman year of high school in the cafeteria.
There was a cluster of black vests and different shades of white and black t-shirts by one of the tables all the way in the back. Of friggin' course. I side-stepped my way through the screaming kids running around their moms, and spotted Dex's dark hair. He was sitting down, elbows to his knees, watching one of the other members with a disinterested expression on his face.
One of the men, an older one I hadn't seen much of during my stay in Austin, hit him with the back of his hand, tilting his chin up. Immediately, those pure blue eyes shot up and around the chairs surrounding him. He gaze shifted and drifted past the men, past the women, until finally landing on me.
I waggled my eyebrows, circling the chairs the Widows had grouped together. The side of Dex's full, pink mouth quirked up at my gesture.
"Hi guys," I said loudly enough for the dozen other members to hear me.
Ten different variations of "What's goin' on, Ris," came back to me as I came to stand in front of Dex, waving at the Club members in return.
I lifted up my plate. "Can I sit with you?" I asked him. The idea that he would say no wasn't even a figment of a possibility in my brain.
Dex sat back in his chair spreading his legs wide, his bright white t-shirt popped even more against the colorful figures of his sleeves. The corner of his lips stayed tipped up. "’Course you can, honey."
The obvious choice was probably to sit in his lap but instead, I turned around and crossed my legs before sinking to the ground between Dex's feet. I felt him shift behind me, his thighs closing in around my arms. Fingers sifted through my hair, pulling the strands over one of my shoulders.
"What'cha got?" he murmured into my ear. He twisted my hair around his fingers in tight, messy knots.
I showed him my plate.
Dex plucked a piece of watermelon off of it with his other hand. A low rumble of approval resonated through his throat after licking his fingertips clean.
I think I shuddered a little when he picked up a grape afterward with those long graceful fingers.
We ate silently. I finished the quinoa patty in three bites while Dex picked pieces of fruit off, wrapping and unwrapping my hair from his fist over and over again. His chest was warm on my back while we sat there huddled. The rest of the Widows talked about a trip some of them were thinking about taking along the west coast.
"It sounds longer than it is," Luther agreed to whatever specific aspect they were talking about.
I choked on the piece of apple I'd been in the middle of eating. The joke bit at my tongue. Wrong people to say that in front of.
"I've done it. It's not hard, but it’s long," an older man I'd only seen in passing, agreed.
Yep. I choked again. The that's what she said stuck in my throat right alongside that same damn piece of apple.
"Bunch of pussies. It's doable."
Dex slapped my back as he dipped his face down, his cheek nuzzling my own as I swallowed the fruit with a savage gulp. His breathing sounded strangled, and it took me a second to realize that he was trying his hardest not to burst out laughing.
"Knock it off," he snickered, digging a finger into my ribs with a puff of air against my ear.
I snorted loud and clear.
Dex jabbed me in the rib even harder, his chest rumbling loud, loud, loud. I had to face away from him and shove my nose and mouth into his thigh to stifle the laugh that wanted to desperately come out.
"What's so damn funny?" Luther asked.
"Nothin'," Dex answered a little too quickly.
I buried my entire face tighter against the thick muscle of his quadriceps.
Someone made a noise like they didn't entirely believe him but whatever. It took me a lot longer than it should have to get it under control but by the time I did, there were a couple of women sitting on some of the guys' laps.
But I only zeroed in on one. That damn Becky.
If I had hackles I'm sure they'd be up to the stars when I spotted her. I must have stiffened because Dex squeezed my shoulders.
"What's wrong?" he whispered into my ear.
It was immature, I knew it, but I couldn't help but want to pull away from him. It wasn't fair, I know that. But seriously? Seriously?
"Nothing important," I managed to mumble, my fingers suddenly feeling a little less than stable holding the plate.
"I'm askin' for the truth, babe."
Hadn't I just told him the night before that I promised to tell him the truth? I looked over to see her looking at Luther with dreamy eyes. Oh lord. Sonny's words about her lack of intelligence rang through my brain. "You've been with her, right?" I didn't need to be specific about who I was talking about, he'd know.
Dex didn't miss a beat. "Yeah."
Well. Hell. He'd answered that without even thinking about it.
I wanted to puke.
"Why?" he asked in a low voice so that only I could hear.
Why? It was only the urge to punch him in the face that kept me from throwing up. "And the blonde inside?" I was an immature asshole. I knew that and yet, I didn't give a crap in that moment.
"Which one?"
Holy shit. My entire body tensed up.
"Never mind, Dex," I hissed. I didn't want to hiss but it came so naturally, it didn't matter.
"Ritz." The tip of his nose touched my cheek. "Jealous?"
He was out of his mind if I was going to answer that question when he sounded way too pleased.
"Most these girls have been around the Club for a while," he explained like that was a reasonable excuse I'd want to friggin' hear. "It's nothin'."
Nothing. It was nothing.
It probably wasn't. That tiny logical part of me accepted that as the truth, but the other part—the hormonal one—craved castration.
God, I hoped my period wasn't coming sooner than it should.
I didn't need to sit there and stew over the fact that I'd probably be stuck facing women that he'd slept with at these sort of gatherings. I was nauseous. And an idiot. What else would I expect? I needed to get away from the reminder of where Dex's pubic piercing had been, and as I looked down at my lap, where it hadn't been.
Forcing a nod, I came to my feet slowly so that I wouldn't accidentally hit him in the face. It wasn't his fault that he had a history while I practically had a negative one. But wouldn't he at least understand that I wouldn't want to face stuff like that? Even if the girl seemed to hang on to whatever man gave her any attention.
Okay, that was rude. For all I knew she was probably a nice girl that had daddy issues I couldn't hold a flame to. I needed to quit being a jerk.
"I think I'm gonna take a dip for a little bit," I said, averting my gaze to the kids around the oval shaped pool. If I looked at Dex, he'd be able to tell that something was bothering me.
With my luck, he already did.
He grabbed onto my wrist, tugging at it. "Iris." My name came out as a grumble.
I touched the top of his head with my other hand, still unable to look at him. "It's fine. I'll be back."
Dex would make a scene if he wanted, but luckily he didn't. His grip loosened enough until I was able to slip out of it, plate in one hand, my pride wounded and clinging to the other. I threw my trash into the nearest can and went to grab my bag from the pile of stuff on one of the tables closest to the back door.
With my towel in one hand, I made my way to the pool, smiling at some of the women that I recognized with enough enthusiasm that I hopefully didn't look like a raging, jealous bitch in a bad mood.
I needed to calm down.
Chill out.
Relax—
Someone smacked my ass.
I didn't even have to turn around to see the little boy, probably around five, zipping passed me like there was no tomorrow. "Booty!" he shrieked.
I must have stood there for at least a couple minutes digesting the fact that I'd just gotten fondled by a kid who more than likely still peed in his bed at night.
And the laugh that burst out of me kind of hurt.
It was only natural that I took off running after the little turd.
~ * ~ *
"Uncle! Uncle! UNCLE!" Dean wailed at the top of his lungs, thrashing carefully enough not to kick me. Well, kick me again. He'd already got me in the stomach at least three other times but that was the risk you took when you were tickling the crap out of a little kid. Getting smacked and peed on. I'd take a smack over pee any day.
I dug my fingers into his sides even harder. "What'd you say?"
"RIS! Ris is the master!" he gasped.
"Who's the master?" I laughed, tickling him even more.
Dean thrust his head back, his blonde hair going everywhere. "You! You!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!" he shrieked.
"All right," I laughed, loosening my grip on his sides.
The poor little guy's face was all red but when he managed to get his breathing somewhat under control, he shot me a big, goofy smile. After chasing him around for a couple of minutes, I'd finally grabbed him and spent the next hour playing with him in the pool. I learned after dunking him in once that apparently, he had an obsession with booties in general.
What the hell do you say to that?
Nothing, that's what.
We'd gone diving for pennies in the shallow end, played Marco Polo with two other girls around his age, and then started the tickling game.
"Again?" he asked, panting.
"Boy, your mom already told you that you needed to get out." I had no clue who his dad was. I didn't even recognize his mom either but the woman kept mouthing out her thanks to me each time she'd walked by to check on Dean.
He blew out a fart. "Okay."
I squeezed his sides before leading him over to the steps. Dean stopped on the lowest one and took a quick look around. There were still about ten other people scattered throughout the pool but he didn't find whatever he was looking for because a second later, he'd thrown his arms around my neck in a hug.
"Can we play again another day?" he asked in a quiet voice.
Oh hell, he was going to make me cry. "Any time you want, buddy."
Dean squeezed me for a split second before dropping his arms. "Okay." He looked around again and took a step back, whispering, "Bye, booty girl." And then he was out of the pool and heading toward his mom while I stood there in water that reached my chest where I kneeled, smirking in his direction.
I needed to find out who was his daddy. I'm sure that would explain a lot.
Finding myself alone for the first time in an hour, I dog-paddled toward the deeper end where there were less people. But there was someone there, sitting at the edge of the pool, cross-legged and with a look on his face that was the child of amusement and affection.
Oh hell.
How could I stay mad at him for things that had been before me? Okay, well, I could if I were a complete jerk but I wasn't. My heart and brain knew that things between us were different and scary. Yet there he was, waiting for me. Brave and sure like always when I happened to run away from him.
"Hi."
"Hi, baby," he greeted me, planting both hands on the edge of the pool.
I clung to the side, holding just my head above the water. "Did you eat?"
He nodded solemnly, touching the tip of his finger to my cheek. "Looked like you were havin' fun."
"I was. Dean's funny."
"Saw him slap your ass." His finger trailed down to outline my jaw. "Think we all saw you runnin' around after him, babe." Dex kept the trail going down the column of my throat. "Everybody heard you two laughin' your asses off."
I gulped.
"Is this thing even a bikini?”
I nodded.
He didn’t look like he believed me. “I like it, a lot. But maybe not so much in front of all these damn perverts.” Dex scowled for a moment. “And fuckin’ Amy walkin’ around tellin’ people you should be lookin’ for a sugar daddy. I thought I was gonna have to beat the shit outta Wheels when he overheard her.”
“Leave that poor man alone. Why are you always getting into fights with him?”
“Always been like that between us.” A deep line formed between his brows. “Why are you defendin’ him? If you saw the way he looks at you, you wouldn’t be thinkin’ he deserves it.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and groan. What a drama queen. “Oh please. I didn’t think you were old enough to need to get your eyes checked.”
Dex’s eyebrows shot up in glorified indignation. So sensitive! As always, he chose to pick up on the least important thing. “You have no fuckin’ clue do you?” Dex licked his bottom lip. “You get me hard as a fuckin’ rock, honey. ‘Specially watchin' you with the kids for so long," he whispered. "Couldn't keep my eyes off you, neither could he."
Bloody hell.
I tipped my head into him, feeling his fingers stretch to span the side of my neck in a possessive grip. "You ready to get outta there?"
Uh, heck yeah.
"Let me get out from the stairs," I told him, tipping my head in the direction where I'd come from.
Dex frowned. "Just get out from here."
"I can't really..." I sighed, thinking of the hundreds of times I’d gotten out at the YMCA. "Because of my arm."
The frown that had been on his face was wiped clean off. Dex got into a crouch, slipping his hands under my arm pits. "I've got you, babe."
He had me up and out of the water before I could argue with him about it, both of us on our knees for a moment before he was helping me to my feet. Dex grabbed my hand and led us toward where he'd been sitting before. There were less Widows in the circle by then, a few of them drifting around the yard with their families or eating.
He must have grabbed my bag at some point when I was with Dean because he bent down to pull out my towel. "Gotta get dried off before you get sick," Dex said in a deceptively soft voice.
I looked at the sky. "It's sunny."
He stood up, holding the pale gray towel wide. "Humor me, babe."
It wasn't like I was planning on getting back into the water anyway, so I nodded and let him wrap the towel around my shoulders so tightly it made me feel like a human burrito.
In the blink of an eye, he'd snatched me up before settling onto the chair he'd been sitting in before. Dex nestled me sideways onto his lap, his arms circling me tightly. His lips pressed into my temple. It seemed normal enough to anyone looking at us, but not me. I knew Dex too well. I recognized the possessiveness of his gesture and it'd be a lie if I said that I didn't get a thrill from it.
Luther was sitting in his chair, looking around the yard. Alone.
I let my head rest against Dex's shoulder. "Sorry about earlier."
He hummed, his strong arms tightening. "I get it."
"You do?"
"Oh yeah," he said in what sounded like a growl. Was it a growl? I kind of hoped so. Rawr. “Those boys better pray I never seen ‘em in the flesh.”
“Don’t get your panties in a wad.” I snickered. "I didn't sleep with either one of them, Dex."
His breath hitched at the same time his grip jerked. "The thought of you...you with...holy fuck, I can't...I can't say it."
Dex was jealous? Jealous? Holy crap, I think my ovaries started going into overdrive as he stuttered.
"Thinkin' about you..." he cleared his throat roughly. "You don't gotta worry. I don't like shittin' where I eat."
The blank look I gave him must have been enough for him to understand that I didn't get what exactly he meant.
"Becky was a mistake, Ritz."
I watched him out of the corner of my eye. "Right."
He sighed, his hold becoming more possessive. "You were there that mornin', babe. I had too much to drink the night before."
I had been there the day afterward. The words just kind of flowed out before I could catch them. "Yeah, and you slapped her ass like it wasn't that big of a mistake."
Dex had the decency to wince. "Can't say I don't wish I could take it back. What's done is done, Ritz. I don't get shit-faced often for that reason, babe. Learned my lesson with my pa."
Uh huh. I knew he had a point though. In all the time that I'd known him, and all the nights we'd spent together, he rarely drank more than a few beers. It was definitely never enough that I thought for a second he wasn't completely in total control. The guy was usually more sober than me.
And he was right about his dad. From what I figured, the older Locke was an alcoholic and if Dex knew that... well, he wouldn't want to go down that same road. At all. For a man that seemed to value his control, falling for that stuff must have been hard to swallow.
"And that redhead? Sky?"
He groaned, bouncing his legs beneath me. Dex nipped at my earlobe. “Nothin’ happened with her that night you’re thinkin’ about, babe. Or any other night since you walked into my shop with your sorority girl clothes.”
The question that came out of my mouth wasn’t intentional. I swear, but all these fears that lurked in the recesses of my brain hadn’t gone off to die overnight. A part of me still needed their protection, I guess. “So why did she bring your cut to the shop and say you left it with her?”
“Who the hell knows. My best guess, she was just tryin’ to be a bitch and wanted an excuse to check you out since you were stayin’ with me.”
This sneaky, creepy sensation flooded my stomach with some form of dread…
“You’re the only girl I’ve ever taken home, Ritz. Guess she was jealous I shot her down the times she brought it up.”
I was going to throw up and Dex’s face was my target.
That's it? That's what I was going to get? A stinking confirmation of the times in his past that she’d wanted him to take her to his place but he hadn’t?
I guess that's all I genuinely needed and wanted. Did I want details? Hell no.
Hell. No.
Okay, maybe a tiny, sadistic part of me wanted something but that was stupid. Whatever I learned could not be unlearned. No thanks.
I was strong enough to accept the role Dex had carved out for me. He'd told me more than enough times his feelings in a vague but powerful way. I needed to quit being a baby and embrace that. Accept that I knew him better than any other person. Could that be enough for me?
It had to be.
He squeezed me to him, tight. “But you don’t gotta worry about anything. There’s only a few things I’ve ever given a shit about. Everything else...is seasonal, as Ma would say.” He pressed his mouth to my temple, whispering, “Then there’s you.”
Swallow, Iris. Breathe, Iris.
I was swallowed whole by emotion. By this terrifying thing that had to be love because it hurt as much as it soothed.
Lifting my knees up higher, I shifted on his lap until I could look him in the face better. His expression was tight. Wary. Maybe even a little worried? So, he wasn't a virgin. Not anywhere close to it, but that was a fact. Dex was who he was and I got a small part of him just for me. I wasn’t going to ruin this by hanging on to the past. I didn’t want it to win.
I bet no one else got to see his spare bedroom of comic stuff. Iris 1, Hookers Pre-Iris 0.
I bopped the tip of his nose with my finger. "Okay."
He blinked those dark gem colored eyes. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
The grin that crept up over his mouth was better than Christmas morning, and the kiss he gave me afterward somehow topped that.
“I guess I should be grateful you don’t have three ex-wives running around trying to take you back, huh?”
He rolled his eyes, the creases in the corners of his eyes getting more pronounced as he smiled wider. “Ya think?”
“Yeah, I don’t know how to fight. If it came down to it, I’d have to use my keys on their faces or bite off a chunk of somebody’s ear,” I told him with a grimace.
The laugh that erupted out of him had the remaining Widows turning around to look at us like the sight of Dex laughing so loud was a UFO sighting. I swear one of the younger ones, a prospect, looked a strange mixture of scared and baffled. But I was so amused by Dex’s response, I just sat there watching him with a huge, stupid smile on my face. What else would I want to look at?
Once he finally got himself under control, Dex pulled back just enough to roam his gaze over my face. I probably looked like a wet rat taco but I didn’t care when the expression on his face was so calm and focused. And when the corner of his mouth did that sneaky little tip up. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, you know that?”
"Hey lovebird, you want a smoke?"
One of the older Widows sitting opposite of us chuckled, holding a pack of cigarettes in his weathered outstretched hand.
Dex shook his head, and the what-the-hell expression on the older man's face was priceless.
"No?" the Widowmaker asked incredulously.
"She doesn't need to be smellin' that shit."
The man frowned, his eyes switching back and forth between me and Dex. "You allergic or somethin', Rissy?"
Rissy. Ha.
I shook my head, smiling at him. "No. You can smoke here, I'll go find Dean or something."
The legs beneath me bounced again. "She had cancer, Lee. She doesn't need to be around that secondhand smoke and shit, makin' things worse."
What the hell?
I turned my gaze over to Dex slowly. He was waiting for it though. He looked like he was ready for me to challenge him, to get upset with him for spilling the beans he'd just found out about.
And it wasn't like I hadn't already caught him looking at my arm each time he had the chance, teeth gritted and all.
"What? It's true. Everybody's seen those commercials about how many people die from secondhand smoke a year. You aren’t gonna be riskin' yourself," he stated solidly. Dex tipped his face closer to mine, whispering, "This is family now, Ritz. You don't have to hide shit from anybody."
Lee, the older man, choked before I had a chance to process Dex's comment. "You had cancer?" He sat back in his chair, his thin legs falling open. "Fuck me. You're a goddamn kid."
"It was a long time ago," I clarified, giving Dex a nasty look.
My comment didn't help whatever was going through Lee's head because he ended up running both hands through his hair with a huff. "Well, shit." With a quick glance over at me, he shoved the pack of cigarettes into the front pocket of his vest. "Nobody smokes around you. You hear me, Dexter? No smokin' around Rissy."
This was my family? This wiry old biker that I'd spoken to maybe one other time in my life, was making demands on my behalf?
I had to curl my lips behind my teeth to stop myself from smiling like a total idiot.
Dex let out a sharp laugh. "Got it, old man."
"Old man my ass," he snipped back mindlessly. Lee dragged his hands through his hair again with a groan. "Fuck. Cancer? My sister died from cancer in her ass. That shit runs in my family." He turned his attention toward me, eyes wide. "Can you get tested for that or somethin'?"
I caught Dex giving me wide, amused look out of the corner of my eyes. "Well..."
Thirty minutes later, Lee had got off his chair looking way too frazzled. I think I'd scared him. But when he promised to visit his doctor for the first time in five years, I didn't feel so bad about it. Prevention, prevention, prevention.
"You ready to head home soon?" Dex asked.
I nodded. "Yeah. Let me get dressed, and then I want to tell Luther bye."
He squeezed my shoulder and let me up, passing me the shorts and shirt I'd had on earlier.
I said goodbye to a few people that were around, especially Lee, but didn't see Dean raising hell anywhere. Damn it. I liked that kid.
Luther was standing in his kitchen with a few others when we made our way out. I wasn't that affectionate with people I didn't know well, and Luther was one of those. But I couldn't help but give him a quick side-hug when we were close enough.
"I just wanted to tell you thanks for helping to look for my dad," I told him discreetly, taking a step back into Dex's space.
He didn't seem like the type that smiled often. The rough lines of his face told a story about a man that had been in a biker club before it had gone legal. A man that had lost someone he loved because of a collective of mistakes.
But this man was also Trip's father. He had to have some of that idiot's heart.
The crinkle in his eyes confirmed that for me. "Sweetheart, I did better than that for you. My buddy spotted him yesterday."
Chapter Thirty-Three
"I don't think it's going to fit."
I wheezed, way too eager from having to keep it together at Luther's house two days before. "That's what she said!"
"Goddamn it, Ris." Slim shook his head and laughed, almost dropping the new thermal fax we'd put together just a minute before. "These arms weren't made for heavy labor, you can't be making me laugh when I'm carrying stuff."
Eyeing him out of the corner of my eye, I grabbed the other side of the machine. "Doesn't it only weigh about ten pounds?"
"Don't worry about it," he huffed. "Move that kit over a little more and it'll fit."
I pushed over the set of inks on the counter he'd been referring to and watched as he slid the thermal fax into place. It'd gotten to be a pain running back and forth to the kitchen when one of the guys needed a stencil done, so I might have been a little too excited about ordering a new machine with the intention of putting it in the front when the old one pooped out.
"You wanna break in the new machine?" Slim asked, his back to me.
"I still don't know what I'd want," I explained, referring to the tattoo.
He looked over his shoulder, fluttering those ginger-blonde eyelashes. "The dragon is waiting for you when you're ready."
He meant the dragon that blew rainbow.
“Would it hurt?” I asked him like a wimp, taking a seat on the nearest chair.
Slim bit his lip and made a face that said yeah, it's gonna friggin' hurt. “Well, yeah. A little.” Ef me. "But you're tough. You can handle it."
The story of my life. Shit.
I found my voice. “I'm still thinking about it, Michaelangelo.”
He let out a resigned sigh. "All right there, grandma."
Blake’s head popped up over the divider of my reception desk and his station. There was nothing scheduled for the next hour and at the last minute, I'd asked Blake to man the desk while we set up the new equipment. His head wrinkled as he narrowed his eyes at what we were doing.
“Does Dex know you want to get a tattoo?” he asked carefully.