Page 95 of Broken

Before Calli can respond, I step between her and my two nosey ass employees. “We’ll be in the back. Make sure you lock the front door when you go.”

Without waiting for any response, I put a hand on Calli’s lower back and guide her toward the hall at the rear of the shop. The message is loud and clear. Don’t bother us. Calli waves to them over her shoulder.

She walked in on a ton of shit I still need to unpack myself. There is only so much I can tell her. Seems to be the way things are between us.

Calli heads into the back room. “Who were those guys?”

“They’re friends of the old owner, the guy who trained me.”

Not a complete lie.

“They know Phoenix too?”

Trust goes both ways. Calli is here, trusting me to do something to her she hasn’t wanted in the past. What is happening between Phoenix and Nero isn’t something to gossip about. The way she is looking at me gives me pause. It’s concern. They freaked her out.

“The one who was talking. He’s Phoenix’s half-brother.” I close the door and watch her as she lets that sink in.

“Is he okay?”

That wasn’t what I was expecting her to ask. My quick nod and silence appeases her. Time to change the subject.

“I’m surprised you showed up. Thought you were gonna back out.”

“You threatened to come find me if I didn’t.”

“In the heat of the moment. That was a dick move. I can’t force you to get a tattoo. As much as I want to see my work on you, this is a big decision. If you want to back out, I’m not going to be upset about it.”

Calli stares at me in surprise. I’m not kidding. I might have been a domineering asshole this morning, but talking someoneinto doing something they don’t want is wrong. Particularly something as huge as a tattoo. This is permanent. Or a costly and painful experience to have removed.

“Can I see the design first?”

“Sure, take a seat.”

Her hesitation concerns me. Then I remember. She’s staring at the bed in the center of the room, biting on her bottom lip.

She doesn’t hear me moving up behind her. I want to keep this as professional as possible. It’s difficult when we’re both remembering what Calli did on this bed all those weeks ago.

She jumps when I put a hand on her hip and step up close to her back. “As much as I’d love to see a repeat of that, we’re here for a different reason tonight.”

Her breath hitches when I run my nose along the column of her neck, breathing in the flowery scent of her skin. Her body relaxes. I love that I do this to her.

Her hand goes out to the bed when I release her and step back. With a knowing smirk, I head over to the counter to grab my design. In my free time earlier, I drew what I want to put on her.

Calli gets on the bed. She takes the drawing from me and I watch for her reaction.

A lotus flower is set inside an intricate mandala. It branches out to the sides, so when it’s situated, the flower will be low down between her breasts. The rest of the design will follow the slopes and lines in a curve beneath them.

The flower is shaded in soft pink hues to make it stand out. It is a large design and ambitious for a first tattoo, particularly in that position.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, tracing a finger over it. “Where did you want it to go?”

I reach forward and press the flat of my hand on her chest, my thumb and little finger spread to encompass the area under her breasts. Her throat works as she swallows.

“It’s big,” she frowns, still holding the sheet of paper.

“I can scale down, or I also did this.” I hand her a second sketch, which is a much smaller but similarly shaped design with a butterfly at the center. “You can choose your own design and placement if you prefer.”

Her head comes up, a contemplative expression on her face. “I thought you wanted to choose.”

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