Callie relaxes into me, her head resting on my shoulder.
“Why did you choose that scar?”
“It’s the oldest one, and I didn’t do anything to deserve it.” She tilts her head to the side and watches her fingers trace the lines of my palm. “I was only ten. It was the night Clio ran away. When he realized what she’d done, he took it out on me. Before that, he’d never left a mark on my skin. Afterward, he took great pleasure in it.”
I bring my lips to her forehead, needing the connection. If he wasn’t already dead, I’d hunt him down and kill the bastardmyself. “You didn’t deserve any of it, Bluebird. None of those scars are your fault.”
I glance up at the tattoo designs lining the walls, and an intricate watercolor bird captures my attention. I point to the frame. “Do you know why I call you Bluebird?”
She follows the gesture. “No, but I wondered.”
“Bluebirds sometimes symbolize hope and happiness. Two things I didn’t have before I met you.”
She draws in a quick breath, and her gaze snaps to mine.
I finger a lock of dark hair near her temple. “You chose to live your life on your own terms instead of being stuck in a cage. You have strength I never did. I built myself a cage out of my grief, and now I’m finding my way out again thanks to you.”
“I’m only strong because I had to be. I didn’t have any other choice.”
“There’s always a choice. You could’ve stayed and let them break you down day after day, but you didn’t. You fought like hell to save yourself. For some reason, the universe led you to me. I have to believe there’s a reason.”
“Maybe the universe knew we needed each other.”
“No. You never needed me, but I sure as hell needed you.”
She presses a soft kiss to the underside of my jaw.
Noah chooses that moment to materialize. “Sorry to interrupt. The sketch is ready.”
“Can I have a minute alone to talk to Noah?” Callie asks.
“Of course. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
They disappear into a room off the lobby. I bounce my leg for a while, then the pacing starts. Finally, after what feels like hours, Noah calls me back to the room.
When I enter, Callie’s lying on her back with her tank top tucked under the band of her bra. Her scars are fully exposed, but she doesn’t look nervous in the least. It’s a testament toNoah’s ease with his clients that she’s comfortable enough to let him see them.
She reaches out for me, and I take her hand in mine without hesitation.
“What do you think?” she asks.
Over the spot where a long pink scar once existed, Noah has placed a detailed floral stencil.
“There’s one more thing.” Noah stands at her side and adds a smaller stencil to the design, just between her breasts. “Callie had a special request.”
When he peels back the paper, a knot instantly forms in my throat, and my vision blurs. It doesn’t have any color yet, but it doesn’t have to—I know it’ll be blue.
She gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “You ok there, Cowboy?”
I clear my throat and swipe my hand down my beard. “Yep. Fine.”
“Do you like it?” she asks hesitantly.
“It’s perfect.”
Noah slides over an extra stool so I can sit at Callie’s side while he starts working on her tattoo.
“Nice cuck chair,” Callie says with a teasing lilt.
