Chapter Eight
Rome
“Good.”
The word came out rougher than I intended.
Josie sat in the tattoo chair looking at me like she was trying to decide if trusting me was brave or stupid. The inside of her wrist rested in my hand, her pulse fluttering beneath my thumb. I felt every beat of it.
I didn’t get nervous tattooing people. Didn’t matter if it was a first tattoo or their fiftieth. Didn’t matter if they were eighteen or eighty. I had been doing this for eight years. I knew what I was doing.
But Josie sitting in my chair? That felt different.
I moved away to give myself a second to breathe and finished setting up. New needles. Fresh ink cap. Paper towels. Everything laid out exactly where I wanted it.
Routine.
Routine was good.
Routine didn’t care that the woman in my chair smelled like vanilla and strawberries.
Routine didn’t notice the way she’d tucked her hair behind her ear three times in the last minute.
Routine definitely didn’t think she looked pretty sitting there trying to act brave.
I snapped on my gloves. “You can still back out.”
Josie lifted her chin. “I know.”
“Just saying.”
“I’m not.”
“Okay.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you keep giving me an out?”
I looked up from the station. “Because if you leave here with something on your body forever, I want you to be damn sure it’s what you want.”
Her expression softened. That happened more often lately.
The sharp, sarcastic Josie was still there, but every now and then she looked at me like I was showing her a side of the world she hadn’t expected. “I am sure.”
I nodded. That was all I needed. I rolled my stool closer and gently took her wrist again.
She inhaled.
“You nervous?” I asked.
“A little.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“Easy for you to say.”
I smirked. “You’re right. I’ve never had a tattoo.”
She laughed. “Smartass.”
I transferred the stencil onto her skin and held her wrist up so she could see it.
The little ice cream cone fit perfectly.
Simple.
Cute.
The three scoops stacked neatly on top of the waffle cone.
It looked like Josie. Sweet without being childish. Fun without trying too hard. Something she’d look at years from now and remember this moment. That thought hit me harder than it should have.
Years from now. Jesus.
“You like it?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh. Yeah, that is perfect.” She looked up at me quickly. “I love it.” Relief washed across her face. “It’s stupid how much I love it.”
“It’s not stupid.”
Her fingers flexed against my hand.
“It’s just...” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Try.”
Josie stared at the stencil. “My whole marriage, I kept waiting.”
I stayed quiet.
“Waiting until we had more money.” She laughed softly. “Waiting until Bruce thought it was a good idea.” Another laugh. This one didn’t sound happy. “Waiting until someday.” Her eyes lifted to mine. “And then someday never came.”
Something ugly twisted in my chest.
Not jealousy. I wasn’t jealous of her ex.
I pitied the dumb bastard because sitting here with Josie in front of me, smiling at a tiny tattoo she’d wanted for years... I couldn’t imagine looking at her and telling her no.
“You don’t need permission anymore,” I said.
Her throat bobbed. “I know.”
I wasn’t sure she did. Not completely, but she was getting there.
I switched on the tattoo machine, and the buzz filled the room.
Josie tensed.
“Relax.”
“I am relaxed.”
“You look like you’re preparing for surgery.”
She glared at me. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I might.”
I grinned, and then I got to work. The first touch of the needle made her suck in a breath. Her fingers tightened around the armrest.
I looked up. “You okay?”
“Yep.”
“Liar.”
She glared. “I’m fine.”
I went back to work.
The tattoo was small, but I took my time.
Partly because I always did.
Partly because, hell, I liked sitting this close to her.
Josie relaxed little by little. After a few minutes, she wasn’t holding herself so rigidly anymore. Her shoulders dropped. Her breathing evened out.
She watched me work.
Not the tattoo, but me.
I could feel it.
Her eyes on my face. On my hands. On the concentration I knew settled in whenever I tattooed.
Most people talked.
I usually didn’t.
Tattooing was personal. Intimate, in a weird way. Somebody trusted me enough to leave a mark on them forever. That wasn’t something I took lightly.
“What?” I finally asked.
Josie blinked.
“Huh?”
“You keep staring.”
“So do you.”
“I’m tattooing you.”
“You’ve looked at my face more than my wrist.”
I grunted. No point arguing. I focused harder on the lines, and the shop faded away.
The music, lights, and the street outside. It all disappeared until there was just me.
And Josie.
And the warmth of her skin beneath my hand.
“You know what’s weird?” she asked.
“What?”
“I wasn’t nervous coming over here.”
I glanced up. “No?”
She shook her head. “I mean, I was nervous about the tattoo.” Her cheeks turned pink. “But not you.”
That hit me somewhere I wasn’t prepared for. I looked back down before she could see it.
“Probably should be.”
She laughed. “Because you’re scary?”
“Because I’m an asshole.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
I smirked. “You don’t know me that well.”
“No.” She was quiet for a second. Then... “I think you’re kinder than you want people to know.”
The machine buzzed. I didn’t answer because I didn’t know what to say. Nobody had ever accused me of being kind.
Capable? Sure.
Reliable? Definitely.
Scary? On occasion.
But kind? No.
I didn’t hate it coming from her, though. I finished the outline and wiped away excess ink.
Josie looked down. “Oh wow.”
“We’re not done.”
“I know, but...” Her smile spread slowly like she couldn’t help it.
And Christ, that smile.
I had seen it before in Scoop & Swirl when customers complimented her. When kids got excited over sprinkles. Or when she talked about the shop.
But sitting here? Knowing I was the reason for it? That felt fucking unexpected.
I finished the shading and added the tiny sparkles. I wiped her wrist clean one last time and then switched off the machine.
Silence settled around us as I gently cleaned the tattoo.
Applied ointment.
Wrapped it.
My hands moved automatically, but my head? Not so much.
I sat back on the stool. “Done.”
She stared down at her wrist, then back at me. Her eyes were shiny.
Not crying. Just... full. “It’s perfect.”
I shrugged. “Of course it is.”
She laughed. “There he is.”
“The ego?”
“The confidence,”
I smirked.
Josie slid off the chair. Only she was closer than before. Much closer.
I stood automatically, and suddenly there wasn’t much space between us.
I could smell vanilla and see the freckles across her nose. The tiny crease between her eyebrows that showed up when she was thinking too hard.
Neither of us moved.
“You know,” she said quietly, “you’re not what I expected.”
“What’d you expect?”
She smiled. “Honestly?”
“A jerk covered in tattoos?”
“No, though you are covered in tattoos.”
“Fair.”
Her smile softened. “But you’re nice.”
I groaned. “Don’t spread that around.”
She laughed. “I’m serious.”
I looked away toward the front windows. Anywhere but her. “I just brought you burgers.”
“You remembered I skipped lunch.”
I shrugged. “You were hungry.”
“You keep doing that.”
“What?”
“Making things seem smaller than they are.”
I looked back at her. Her expression was open. Honest.
No games.
No expectations.
Just Josie.
Standing close enough that if I leaned forward... I stopped the thought.
She deserved somebody uncomplicated.
I wasn’t uncomplicated.
I liked my life. Liked my freedom. Liked answering to nobody. I wasn’t looking for more. Except... I kept crossing the street.
And she wound up here.
My eyes dropped to her mouth just for a second. Long enough that she noticed and her breath caught.
Mine did too.
“Rome,” she said softly.
Just my name, but it felt like a question.
I lifted my hand slowly, giving her time. Giving her an out. My knuckles brushed her cheek and she leaned into the touch.
That was it. That was all it took.
I lowered my head and Josie’s eyes searched mine for half a heartbeat, then she closed the distance.
The kiss was soft.
Careful.
Nothing rushed.
Nothing desperate.
Just... warm. Curious.
Her lips moved against mine, and every thought in my head disappeared.
I kissed her back.
Like I was learning something. Like I was trying to memorize it.
Josie’s hand came to rest against my chest. I could feel how nervous she was. How steady she was trying to be.
I understood that. Hell, I wasn’t exactly steady myself.
I pulled back first. Mostly because if I didn’t, I wasn’t sure I’d stop.
Josie’s eyes opened slowly and she looked as surprised as I felt.
We stared at each other, then she laughed nervously. “Well.”
I rubbed a hand over my jaw. “Yeah.”
“I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Neither was I.”
That was the truth.
And somehow... I knew things had just changed.
I didn’t know what came next.
Didn’t know if I wanted to.
But I knew one thing, I wasn’t going to stop crossing Main Street.