Chapter Twenty-Four
“A tattoo? That’s what you want to do for date night?” Bear asked, one brow lifted.
Aasia’s eyes were gleaming with a reckless spark. “You’re not afraid, are you? What’s one more for you?”
Her laugh was as bright as a ray of sunshine in the dim, dark décor of the tattoo shop. The flickering blue neon signs around them caught her eyes, making them sparkle. So, she was serious? He should have known when she asked him to meet her there that she had a fire under her sails.
She turned to face the wall of miniature drawings, squinting as she leaned in to take a closer look.
“Every tattoo should mean something. Your decision seems as sudden as a Texas storm,” he said.
“You don’t remember? The first time I met you I complimented you on your tattoos. I told you I’ve always wanted one—”
“But you were worried you’d get tired of permanent ink,” he finished her sentence.
“I think it just needed to be the perfect time. You don’t have to get one. I want one.” She pointed to a small minimalist tattoo of a cartoon character.
He shook his head. “Nah. That’s not you.” He tapped the picture of an intricate rose. “Closer.”
“A flower? That seems too sweet.”
“I’d have to disagree. You’re pretty sweet.” He winked.
“I’ve got an idea. How about we get matching tattoos? Something that reminds us of everything we’ve shared.”
He looked for any sign in her expression that she was teasing. “Are you serious? You really are game for that?” He was caught off guard. “Matching ink is a big deal.”
“I sure am.” She traced a heart design with the tip of her finger then glanced over her shoulder at him. “The idea is completely spontaneous, unexpected, and a whirlwind. Yet, sometimes we all must take the bull by the horns. I can be impulsive too.”
Bear hesitated for a moment as he absorbed what she was asking. “Did someone say something that bothered you?”
Her mouth curved into a frown. “Phoebe. She said I’ve never done anything impulsive ever.”
He hid his smile. “Why does that bother you? You’re a smart, intelligent, successful woman. You don’t have to worry about what anyone says.”
She shrugged and the spaghetti strap of her tank top slipped down her shoulder. “Not everyone has the luxury to throw caution to the wind. I had responsibilities.”
“We all need to let loose sometimes.”
“Right. That’s what I’m doing.”
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
She swiveled on her heels and pushed onto her tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the lips. “I do. Do you trust me?”
“Completely.”
“So, what do you say, cowboy? Do you have any ideas?” She walked her fingers down the front of his T-shirt.
“Let’s do it. If you get the sun, I’ll get the moon. It seems…fitting.”
Her grin turned into a full smile. “I like that idea.”
The gangly bearded tattoo artist who was covered from head-to-toe in ink asked, “Made a decision, have you?”
They shared what they wanted, and he doodled away to bring their thoughts to fruition.
The designs he created were simple, yet significant. The sun for Aasia represented brightness and warmth. The moon represented Bear’s mysterious side and how many nights he laid under it expecting the enemy approaching.
Aasia was buzzing with excitement as Sarge prepared his tools on the table.
“First time?” he asked Aasia.
She nodded as he led her to the bright sterile room. “I’ll go first. If you’re okay with that?” she asked Bear.
“It only seems right.” This way Bear knew she wouldn’t back out. The waiting could make any newbie to tattoos freak out.
Fifteen minutes later, she was stretched out on the black cushioned chair, staring up at Bear with a cocktail of worry and excitement. The hum of the tattoo machine in the next room filled the silence, soothing in a way.
Aasia watched while Sarge finished up applying the stencil on her inner wrist, making sure she was fine with the location.
The first prick of the needle made her wince, but she quickly relaxed.
Bear took her hand, running his thumb over her free palm, his attention going from her face to the progress of the small, simple tattoo.
“You won’t back out, will you?” she said quietly.
“You know me better than that.” Interesting since he thought she might once she sat down in the chair.
“Since we’re getting tattoos, don’t you think it’s time you told me more about who you really are?”
Lord help him, the way she peered up at him, looking so brave and beautiful socked him right in the feels.
Before he allowed himself to think too much, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I ain’t scared of much.
Not pain. Blood. War. Hell, I’ve had my nose broken, a few ribs, and kept on going.
” He held her gaze as he tapped the bridge of nose where there was a small bruise.
“But getting my heart broken, that’s a different story.
Never thought I was at risk until a beautiful scientist came waltzing into my life and peeled away all those walls of steel I’ve built. ”
He swore he saw some wetness in her eyes, but she blinked and it was gone.
“Thank you, Ben.” The way she said his name, like warm honey.
In that moment he wanted to protect her, he wanted to stop the tattoo artist from inflicting the sting of the needle on her silken skin.
But then Sarge announced that he’d finished.
“I love it,” she said proudly.
Then it was his turn. Bear took his place in the chair, stretched his legs and crossed his ankles. He’d been under the needle a few times.
“How do you feel? Are you okay?” she asked Bear when Sarge started.
Chuckling, Bear found her concern flattering. “This isn’t my first rodeo, darlin’. I’ve been under the “gun” more times than I can count, but I find your concern cute. I’ve never been better.”
Soon the moon was inked on his wrist, right under his full sleeve of an intricate wolf, cross, and the words “Fire on Fire”.
When they stepped back out into the crisp cool air, they both felt the slight sting of the marked skin, a reminder of the connection they now had. Ironically, the moon was high, casting a silver glow on them as they walked in comfortable silence.
“We did it! You won’t regret this, will you?” she looked up at him. The blue moonlight caught the wary glint in her eyes.
“Never. The moon is amazing. And the sun.” He jutted his chin at her newly inked wrist. “Is exactly how I see you.”
The street was quiet at this late hour, making their walk intimate. Bear couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was beautiful. Stunning.
~*~
Aasia felt a comfort being near Bear, as if the world moved around him.
He had the broadest of shoulders. Large, capable hands.
A barrel chest as if it had been given to him to carry a lot of burden.
His jaw was squared with the shadow of whiskers, and a long day.
When he took her hand, she couldn’t feel the scars that covered his knuckles but she knew they were there.
While he’d been getting his tattoo she’d counted the jagged white lines.
Ten. Between his two hands. She became curious how he’d gotten them.
Had he been in hand-to-hand combat? Working on machines?
She wanted his story, but she couldn’t just expect that a man built as tough as Bear would uncap his entire story in one sitting.
The way he’d looked at her while she sat under the tattoo gun made him seem different…
smaller. Not in stature. He was still as big as a mountain and as solid as one.
But it wasn’t easy to explain what she’d witnessed in his expression.
Something unguarded, maybe even uncertain, as he told her of his fear of getting his heart broken.
Tonight she’d seen some of the darkness that surrounded him recede.
Lamplight pooled around their feet turning the pavement into a path of liquid blue after the downpour.
The town was quiet. Put to bed so to speak. She felt like she and Bear were the only two people in Fin’s Creek. A new pride had developed in her that they shared something…a tattoo. To some it would mean nothing, but to her, it meant the world. The gesture meant promise and unity.
Their footsteps were in unison, and their fingers entwined.
She looked up at him, looking at his profile. Thankful for the streetlights that offered her a chance to see his features.
“You’ve become very quiet,” she said.
His shoulders slackened some. “Yeah, I guess I have.”
She wanted to jump in and ask about his thoughts but knew she could be met with a wall. She’d learned that Bear didn’t just speak to fill the silence. Everything he brought to the table came from a place of intention. Every word that passed his lips cost him something. Every word had depth.
“I told you what I’m scared of. I meant it.”
“Do you regret opening up?”
He stopped and looked down at her, his brow furrowed. “Not at all.”
“Good because I want to know you better, Bear. I want you to trust me. Know that whatever you tell me will stay with me.”
He offered her a crooked smile. “We’re bound to each other now.
” He held out his arm and lifted hers so that they were side by side.
He brushed the backs of his knuckles across her skin leaving a trail of electricity in his wake.
“Now every time there’s a sunny day, I hope you’ll think of me,” he said, his voice a low rumble that resonated like soft waves within her.
“And every time you look at the moon I hope you’ll think of me.” She pressed her hands against his chest, drawing in his heat.
“That was a very good idea.” He kissed her cheek, lingering close.
“Tell me something, Ben,” she chose to use his real name, making her feel like they shared their own private secret there standing on the empty street. “When you first met me what did you think of me?”
He tangled his fingers through her hair, then said, “That night I first saw you I thought you were the most engaging, intriguing, girl I’ve ever met.”
His kind words filled her chest. “And now?”