Page 7 of Inked Heart

Damn. I am at a loss for words when it comes to this man. His alpha-ness rubs me the right way and I don’t know why. I quickly turn my back to him and wipe these stupid fucking tears from my face. Hormones, I swear to God I might kill someone in the next seven months. He keeps quiet while I prep the sterilized kit I am going to use. When I turn around, I catch him staring at my ass and I cannot help the bark of laughter that escapes me.

“You’ve already seen it.” I say deadpan as I set the kit down.

“I know, Angel. It has been a long time though. Maybe I’ve forgotten.” He says smirking.

I pause and rub my chest, but the phantom ache won’t go away. I am not sure how long I stand there like an idiot, but he grabs my wrist and rubs the back of my hand.

“Kitty, I was joking. That fine view is not something I could ever forget.”

I nod. When did I become that girl? The one who cannot speak her mind. It must be the baby. It’s the only thing that has changed in my life. Don’t get me wrong because I have never been happier. Maybe it’s El.

I start using alcohol to clean his pec. “How do you want this?” I ask. It’s a simple, less than ten-minute tattoo.

“Ornate.” He says. I nod and snap my gloves into place. Believe me, the irony of gloving up now is not lost on me. I don’t typically wear them when I tattoo my brother for instance, but I don’t want this to be anything less than professional.

“This doesn’t require a stencil for me, unless you’d be more comfortable with it.”

“I am good with whatever you want.” He says leaning back.

I get the gun going and start putting ink into his skin. There is something euphoric in knowing that something I’ve done is going to be worn on someone forever. It makes me happy.

“How are you feeling?” His chest grumbles as he speaks under my fingertips.

“Ugh, I’ve had hellacious morning sickness El. It’s not pretty.” He laughs as I moisten the tat and saran wrap it up. I clean my station up quickly and the last thing I do is toss my gloves.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“Have you had anyone to help hold your hair back?”

“What are you asking me?” He can’t be asking me what I think he is. Why would he care?

“You been with anyone else?” At least he looks ashamed that he is asking me that.

“Are you kidding me, El? You have no right to ask that. None, at all.”

“The baby you’re brewing tells me otherwise, baby.”

“Fine. I have not. I cannot believe you would think I could jump into bed with someone else. Not after giving you all of me. Fine, since we are talking and you’re saying we are doing this, have you been with anyone else?”

“I don’t think that, but I had to know for sure. And no, I haven’t been with anyone else. You are all I’ve thought about in the last two months.” He says with sincerity.

I don’t know what to say except to blurt out, “Well you better keep it that way, because I am liable to stab you.”

“Ok, Kitty. Message received, loud and clear. Have you been to the doctor yet?” He says, bringing us back to the important part of the conversation.

“I have. I’ve been once to confirm the home test I took and my due date.”

“Which is?”

“Around May 11th. I don’t expect anything from you El. You don’t have to…” I try to get it out, but he cuts me off.

“Kitty, cut that shit out right now. I am pretty sure I told you out there that this is happening.”

“I know. But I couldn’t live with myself if you only felt obligated to be with me, because of our baby.”

“Kitty, I’ve been all over Moosehead looking for you since the minute I woke, and you were gone. I have bugged the Crawford’s almost every damn day. Not one of those fuckers would tell me anything. Had I known you were only ten minutes away, this would have been settled a long time ago.”

I cannot help the smile that spreads over my face. He pulls me down to him and I cannot help straddling him. I am thanking anyone who will listen, that I didn’t skimp on the chair I bought for in here. Tatting everyone from big bad-ass bikers to tiny college girls who want tramp stamps, these things got to be durable.

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