Epilogue
HOLLY
“Have you figured out what you want yet?” Ben is sitting at his drawing table, ready to transfer whatever design idea I’ve come up with onto paper.
He’s so handsome, dressed in his black jeans and T-shirt, tattoos snaking down his arms and onto his hands. Before answering, I step in between his open knees, slide my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, and kiss him thoroughly. His mouth tastes like mint, and he always smells a little bit like the forest. We need to go back to the cabin soon. I’m craving some long nights of lovemaking in front of a warm fire.
I hum in the back of my throat as I end our impromptu make-out session. Ben stares up at me with a drunken smile but soon shakes his head, so he can focus again.
“You’re stalling. You don’t have to do this.” Even as he scolds me for distracting him, his hands settle on my backside.
“I’m not stalling. Your sexiness just drives me to distraction.”
Even after years together, I’m still madly in love with this man. He’ll move in a particular way or say just the right thing, and it’s like a bonfire lights in my chest, and I need to touch him.
“Anyway, I’ve figured out what I want.”
Ben nuzzles his nose into the space between my breasts, humming his own satisfaction. I use my grip on his hair to pull him back even though I can’t keep from laughing.
“Stop being ridiculous!”
“You started it. So, what do you want?”
I give him my most innocent smile. “I want a surprise.”
His mouth pops open, and I enjoy how befuddled he looks.
“You can’t be serious.”
I nod. “Yep. You’re getting too comfortable with me just telling you what to do. This is your area of expertise, and I trust you completely.”
Ben scowls up at me, opening his mouth for another point that won’t change my mind. Before he can lecture me, I place my finger on his lips.
“Our love.”
His eyebrow rises in question.
“That’s as much direction as I’ll give you. You have this.” I scoop up his left hand, running my fingers over the intricate holly branches.
Ben kept his vow. He waited until Dr. Stevens gave him the go-ahead, which was almost eight months after the exchange. The next day, he was under the needle again.
“I want one of my own. Something that, when I look at it, I’ll immediately think about how much I love you.”
“Holly.” There’s happiness in his voice, but still, he pushes back. “You should get something for you.”
“This is for me. Now, I’ll just sit over here and act as inspiration. Let me know when you’re done.” After another quick kiss, I return to the front counter and pick up the paperwork I was reviewing.
The first time I glance up, he’s still staring at me, so I give him a big grin paired with an enthusiastic thumbs-up. He simultaneously rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
The second time I take a break from my work, Ben has on his distracted, thoughtful look while his pencil dances across the page.
Over an hour goes by before he finally stands up to crack his back. “Okay. Come take a look.”
“Nuh-uh.” I wag my finger at him and know there’s mischief in my smile. “I’m committing to this trust exercise. I’ll take a look when it’s on me.”
“Come on, Holly. That’s crazy.” Ben’s arms cross over his chest, as he’s ready to fight me on this.
But I’m not backing down.
“Crazy would be handing your tools to a homeless man on the street and asking him to tattoo me. But you know what’s fun and romantic?” I stand from my seat and saunter toward him. “Asking my handsome, talented, amazing, trustworthy partner to design a surprise tattoo for me.”
This morning, I dressed for war, knowing this might come down to trickery. Ben always gets turned up hotter when I slip on one of my shapely pencil skirts and pair it with a set of heels. Sexy Business Holly he calls it.
I watch my efforts work. His scowl drops away as his eyes trace down my approaching figure. He’s biting his lower lip when I stop in front of him. But he still doesn’t give in.
“You shouldn’t get something permanent on your body without seeing it first.”
Instead of answering, I reach out my hand, sliding my fingers along his waistband, gently caressing the warm skin of his midriff. His ab muscles clench at my touch.
“Then, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
He scrubs his hands over his face, and then he grabs my wrists and drags me to his chest. “You’re sure about this?”
I smell mint again as his question brushes over my face. Immediately, I nod.
“Okay. But it’s your fault if you don’t like it.”
Before he can turn back to his table, I slip my hands from his hold and wrap my arms around his waist, giving him a squeeze. “You drew it. So, I’m going to love it.”
He harrumphs but kisses my forehead and directs me to sit in the dentist-like chair. In an effort to keep from glimpsing the design, I don’t watch him as he preps everything even though I really want to. Seeing my guy in his element is the best kind of foreplay. He doesn’t hesitate or dawdle; he’s all business.
“You said your wrist?”
“Yes, my left one.” I display the area by stretching out my arm on the padded armrest.
Ben coats my skin with a layer of deodorant and then reaches for the stencil he just printed. By turning my head, I avoid ruining the surprise. Apparently, the movement makes Ben doubt this whole exchange once again.
“You don’t need to do this, Holly.”
“I know that. But I want to. I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while now. I want our love to be permanent on my body.” I continue even though the second reason is sillier, “Also, no way can I own a tattoo shop and not have a tattoo of my own.”
“Sure you can. You can do anything you want.”
His words make me grin, even as I keep my face turned away.
“You’re right. And I want you to tattoo me. If you don’t, then I’ll have to ask some other random tattoo artist to do it.”
He gives me a sexy growl in answer, and I know I’ve won. Ben isn’t some raging alpha male who gets jealous at the mere sight of me talking to another man. But no way would he be happy about someone else’s needle touching my skin.
“If anyone is going to mark you, it’s going to be me.”
“Agreed.” I turn just enough to capture his eyes. “I trust you.”
All uncertainty leaves his face, and he gives me one of his wicked grins.
My chest warms as I smile back before turning away again. Goose bumps race over my skin at the whirring sound of his machine, and with the stinging pierce of it hitting my wrist, I’m finally able to relax.
Except not really because, Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!
This hurts like someone is digging their fingernails into a fresh sunburn. I want to complain because I’m a wimp, but I clench my teeth and keep my whining to myself. I’m not giving Ben any reason to stop.
I wish I had thought to put on some music or something. This would be more bearable with a distraction.
As if reading my mind, Ben pauses. “You want me to put on the radio?”
“Yes, please.” That sounded completely normal and not at all like I’m trying to hold back a whimper.
There’s a stereo near Ben’s desk, so he just leans back and flips the power button. The familiar voices of the Preston and Steve morning show crew fill the studio. Their crude, hilarious conversations are exactly what I need to take my mind off the discomfort of my arm. Soon, I’m able to block out the persistent ache.
A commercial is playing when Ben lowers the volume. A glance at the clock shows it’s been a little over an hour.
“All done.” He wipes the area with a wet paper towel, and the cold is a shock against my sensitive skin.
“Should I look?”
He lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’ve wanted you to look from the beginning!”
I turn and stick my tongue out at him because it’s what he deserves. Then, I gasp when I finally examine his creation.
What was once a pale, bare wrist now has a beautiful scene etched into it. A tiny replica of our cabin sits, surrounded by delicate pine trees, and rising from the chimney is a stream of smoke that forms a wistful little heart. My own heart clenches and stutters at the gorgeous piece of art that is now a permanent piece of me.
“So … is it okay?”
When I gaze up at the man I love, he’s leaning away from me, hand scratching the back of his neck.
How could he doubt, even for a moment, that I would be in awe of his talent?
“There is nothing more perfect in the world than this picture. I love it almost as much as I love you.” I’m tickled to observe a slight reddening of his cheeks as he smiles at me.
I want to run my fingers over the tattoo, but I know I’ll just hurt myself if I do. So, instead, I stare down at the picture, taking in every detail. In the delicate work, I see Ben’s love for me.
He’s inspecting me when I raise my head. Making sure not to jostle my arm, I slide off the chair and settle myself in his lap.
“I love you, Ben Gerhard.”
When he opens his mouth to respond, I cut him off with a kiss. I don’t need to hear him say the words when I have them displayed on my wrist.
Holly peels back the gauze I loosely taped over her wrist earlier. Marcus swore, she was playing a joke on him when she called to tell him about the tattoo. He showed up at the shop just a minute ago, demanding proof.
“Isn’t it the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?”
“The perspective and structure are all formatted correctly. But that’s not how smoke works.”
His analytical review of my piece makes me laugh, but Holly shoves her brother’s shoulder, scowling at him.
“Of course not, you dummy. Ben knows that! It’s a heart because we love each other.”
“Yeah. I got that. I still can’t believe you willingly had a needle touch you.”
We talked about that exact concern back when Holly brought up the idea of purchasing a shop together. She had a fantastic business plan laid out that addressed all the logistics; she’d even talked to two other artists about joining the team. But none of that addressed how a girl who was terrified of needles would be able to work around them all day.
When I brought it up, she explained that her mind didn’t see medical needles and tattoo needles in the same way. Holly even picked up my tattoo gun, easily holding it in her palm, to demonstrate the lack of a panicked reaction in her body. Once I was sure of how calm and at ease she was, I stopped doubting. After two years as an apprentice and two more working in other people’s shops, I was ready to create my own space with Holly.
Combining the rest of Grandpa Ben’s money with a small business loan, we bought this place. Holly adores the red brick walls, and I’m a fan of the giant storefront window that lets in plenty of natural light. Pops was a huge help with refurbishing the place. Two months in, and business has been steady.
Over the years, I’ve accumulated some regulars—fans of my work who don’t care which studio I’m in. Holly’s marketing skills bring in new customers daily. Jamie and Ridley, the other two artists who joined our studio, have styles all their own, making sure we can serve a variety of clientele.
Some days get hectic and unstructured, but Holly just gives the reins a tug, and everything falls back into place. My girl is amazing, the way she makes sure everything runs how it should. Her mastery of the business side of this situation means I can concentrate on the customers and making their dreams a reality.
I love it.
I love her.
I finished up with my last appointment of the day a few minutes ago, giving them their tattoo care kit before letting them go. Ridley took the last walk-in, and the shop is set to close soon. As I set my station to rights, I observe Holly and her brother laughing together. He’s relaying some story as she adjusts a framed picture that has tilted off-balance.
The painting depicts a gorgeous forest scene. A Benjamin Gerhard the Second original. In fact, the shop houses a large amount of my grandfather’s art. Not all of it. Some we sold, donating the proceeds to a charity that supports cancer research. Holly’s idea. But many we haven’t put price tags on because I want a reminder of him when I walk into this shop. I wouldn’t have any of the things I love today if it wasn’t for him.
He taught me a love of art, which I’ve found a way to make a career of. And, in my grief over his death, I injured myself, which at first seemed like a cruel twist of fate but ended with me finding the love of my life.
I owe him everything.
Holly flips the front sign to inform everyone that we’re closed for the night. Then, she reaches for her purse under the front desk and walks over to me. I grab my water bottle and have my hand outstretched before she even asks. The daily pill container gives a little pop as she pushes the Thursday lid open and dumps out the colorful tablets into my palm.
I can handle my medications on my own, but Holly is calmer when she’s sure beyond a doubt that I’ve taken them. Gives her a sense of control.
After the transplant, we still had to deal with the waiting to see if my body would reject the donation. Luckily, nothing went wrong. Her little kidney is still chugging away nicely in my abdomen. Maybe it’s weird, seeing as how I’ve had it for years now, but I still think of the kidney as Holly’s. I always have a piece of her with me.
“Marcus wants to take us out to eat to celebrate my bravery.” She puffs out her chest in an overly exaggerated display, making me chuckle.
“By all means, let’s take advantage of your brother’s generosity.”
“Nice to know my family appreciates me,” Marcus calls out before stepping through the front door.
“He’s gonna meet us there.” Holly smiles after her brother.
After she gave me her kidney, I worried that Holly might come to resent giving up the chance to help her brother find one. I should’ve known better. Just because she couldn’t offer her organ up in exchange didn’t mean she would stop looking. In fact, using some creative methods, Holly was able to locate a donor for her brother not too long after our surgery.
That anonymous donation saved Marcus’s life and relieved Holly and me of our guilt.
Thank the universe for generous people.
I check on Ridley to see that she’s finishing an eagle in the classic American style—thick black lines, bright and vivid colors.
“Nice work. Holly and I are headed out. You good to close up?”
“No problem. See you tomorrow.”
Holly shuts down the front desk’s computer, and we’re set to go. Before stepping outside, I twine my fingers through hers, making sure to take her right hand, so I don’t jostle her tattoo.
The night air is cool, and I’m glad I wore my jacket. Holly shivers, so I let go of her hand to wrap my arm around her shoulders. With her gripping my waist, she tugs me to a stop and turns us, so we’re facing the front window of our shop.
The name is displayed in simple flowing script—Colorful Scars Tattoo Studio.
“Let’s see.” She stretches out her hand and holds up a finger for each item as she starts to make one of her lists. “One, we got you healthy. Two, we earned our degrees. Three, we worked our butts off to save up for this place. Four, we opened up the coolest tattoo shop in Philly. Five, we continue to be insanely in love with one another.”
“Don’t forget that we tattooed ourselves on each other.” I smirk down at her as she grins up at me.
“Is that weird?”
I shrug. “Who cares? I love being weird with you.”
Holly sticks her tongue out at me, and I follow it to her mouth, giving her a scathing kiss. When we surface, she’s wearing a triumphant smile, probably because she knows I can’t resist her. As she stares up at me, her shining eyes turn just a shade serious.
“Look at us, living our dreams,” she whispers, as if someone might try to snatch them away if she talks too loud. “Anything else you want to add to the list?”
Suddenly craving the warmth of her body, I pull her fully into my embrace. As I cup the back of her head in my palm, her lips part slightly in anticipation of the kiss she knows is about to come.
“Anything else?” Our breaths mingle as I lean in close. “No. All I want is more of you.”