‘That took a lot of practice, believe me.’
‘Well, it was worth it.’
‘I think so. I know being an artist isn’t exactly a reliable career choice, and most artists never find fame or fortune, but it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.’
‘How did you get into tattooing?’
‘One of life’s serendipitous moments. I met someone at a party who was going to an expo the next day and she invited me along. It wasn’t somewhere I’d normally go, but Adam and I were in a bad place and the thought of spending my Saturday in a stadium watching bearded motorcyclists ink skulls onto other’s people skin was slightly more appealing than walking on eggshells in the apartment all day, trying not to annoy him or be annoyedbyhim.’
‘And? Did you end up getting a skull tattoo from a bearded motorcyclist?’
I laughed. ‘No. And I was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t like what I was expecting at all. Don’t get me wrong, there were definitely big guys, with big beards and even bigger biceps, like I’d anticipated, but there were also other people. All sorts of people. And I realized that day as I wandered around a remarkably clean and well-organized venue, that tattooists are artists too. They just prefer a different canvas.’
‘And so you became one.’
‘Not overnight. But over the next couple of years, yes. I still remember the first tattoo I did on someone’s skin. It was terrifying. Nothing like the pressure of permanently marking someone’s body.’
‘I’m sure it was fine.’
‘It was… acceptable. If I saw it now I’d probably feel awful. I’ve learned a lot of technique since those early days.’
Jack reached out and touched my cheek, his thumb cool against my skin as he stroked my cheek. ‘I find you incredibly intriguing,’ he said.
‘The feeling is mutual,’ I murmured back, my breath hitching in my throat as he stared at me. No one had ever looked at me like that. Then he leaned forward and kissed me, tentative at first, soft, until I kissed him back, feeling a moan vibrate in his throat as he matched my intensity.
When we finally pulled apart, he smiled, resting his forehead against mine. ‘I don’t know about you,’ he said. ‘But I’m starving.’
‘I have worked up a bit of an appetite,’ I agreed. ‘Why, are you offering to cook breakfast?’
‘If it means I get to keep you with me for a little bit longer, then yeah. I’m offering to cook you breakfast.’
I kissed the tip of his nose. ‘Offer accepted.’
30
JACK
‘I forgot how kitschy this place was decorated,’ she said, wandering around the lounge and picking things up, while I stood in the kitchen and fried us bacon and eggs for breakfast.
‘It’s not that bad.’
She picked up a lobster lamp. ‘No,’ she said. ‘This isn’t tacky at all.’
She was wearing my shirt from the night before, with the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone. It draped down to her mid-thighs. Her hair was a mess, tangled and wild. I had never seen a sexier woman.
‘Who decorated it?’ I asked her, flipping the eggs and lightly pressing them down into the frying pan with the spatula.
‘My grandmother at first, but my mother has added her own touches over the years. Anything with a moose on is probably courtesy of her. They’re her favorite animal.’
‘Ah. That explains the shower curtain.’
‘We have the exact same one in the spare bathroom up at the house.’
‘What was your grandmother like?’
She put the lamp down again, and wandered over to the bookshelf, tilting her head to read the spines of the books. ‘Um, she was great, apparently. I was only seven when she died of a heart attack. I don’t actually remember her very well. But I’ve been told she was pretty legendary around here.’
‘In what way?’
