Page 574 of One More Kiss

“Tell me about your tattoos,” I prod.

I hear him move. I look down at him as my eyes adjust to the moonlit room. His head is propped up on his hand, his elbow bent, making his bicep look…oh, God, why am I looking at his bicep? I quickly avert my gaze to his eyes. If life came with danger warnings, there would be flashing lights going off right about now because even in the dimly lit room, his eyes are penetrating my soul. I look down for a moment and pretend to pick a piece of lint off the bedsheet.

“Which ones?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“All of them.”

He chuckles. “Do you not want to sleep tonight? Because we could be here…literally all night.”

I shrug. “Truthfully, I’m all messed up from the time difference, so to me, it’s like afternoon time anyhow.”

He laughs again.

“OK, tell me about your first tattoo, your favorite tattoo, and the one that means the most to you,” I state as I muster the courage to look back into his gaze. He studies me for a long beat as he considers his answer.

He pulls down the sheet and points to an octopus on his chest. “Ollie here was my first tattoo.”

“You named it?” I ask in surprise.

He nods. “I was eighteen. There was this octopus at the local aquarium.”

“I’ve been there,” I say softly. “The one on Shore Drive?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. They have a boat, and I spent the summer working on the engine for them. I befriended this biologist who let me go inside to cool off during the day. I don’t know why, but I was so…intrigued by it. They are really smart, much smarter than I thought. Anyhow, I got drunk one night and my friend tattooed me. Ollie was the name of the octopus at the aquarium.”

I smile. “I like that.”

I watch his finger trail down his abs to his side where I see what looks like a tail. He turns and picks up his cell phone to shine a light on what is a giant dragon that wraps around his abdomen to his back. It’s a really detailed tattoo.

“It’s beautiful,” I state. “There is so much detail to it.”

“That one is my favorite. When Ginger got accepted to college, I was so damn proud of her. I drove us to Chicago so we could meet with this famous tattoo artist there. She always wanted one, but I made her wait until she was eighteen. She got a lighthouse on her shoulder, and I got this dragon…guarding a lighthouse.” He points to the small lighthouse. “We had never really been anywhere before. We ate deep dish pizza. We went to that bean thing. We went up to the tallest building. We even went to a baseball game. So, this dragon…reminds me of the first time…well, in a long time that I had been happy, truly happy.”

I wonder why he wasn’t happy before but decide not to push him on it.

“And, this one means the most,” he says quietly as he points to that well-defined bicep. I see a crow.

“I don’t really like crows,” I murmur.

“They mean transition,” he replies. “I…well, had a tough few years, and I got that to remind me that even from the darkest hour, you can come forward into a better place. There’s always hope.”

I swallow as I press my lips together to keep from prodding. Hell, I barely know this man.

“Do you have any tattoos?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I guess I never figured out what I’d get. So, I haven’t gotten one yet.”

“It’s important to pick something meaningful because these aren’t cheap to remove,” he says.

“So I hear.”

We both lie down, and I stare up at the ceiling.

“Scarlett?”

“Yes?”

“I really am sorry about what happened at the beach.”

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