“It’s fine.”
Brooklyn turns to Reagan. “What do you think?”
“Um, yeah. If you’re sure you don’t mind.” She looks less than thrilled with the idea and I don’t know if it’s because it’s me or just because today is the anniversary of her mother’s death. Whatever, I’m not gonna overthink it.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Savannah says in a rush of words. “I’m not really good when she gets hurt and the fact she needs to go to the hospital.”
Brinley’s head pops up and she turns, reaching out for her dad who takes her in his arms. Savannah blows out a breath and gives me a look of gratitude. I have no idea what it would be like to have a kid nor do I know if I’ll ever find out.
“She’ll be fine. Just think of Rome and Denver and how many injuries they had growing up,” Brooklyn says, smoothing her hand down her sister’s back..
Savannah nods at her sister. “They were swinging from jungle gyms, she just fell off a curb.”
“It’s my wild streak,” Liam says with a chuckle.
Savannah rolls her eyes.
“Thanks again, Moose. Really appreciate it,” he says.
“It’s no trouble. I just gotta make a call first. Be right back.” I head back to the office without looking at Reagan again, because I’m going to have to touch her for the next couple hours depending on what kind of ink she wants and that’ll be hard enough.
I pull my cell from my pocket and pull up the number for the owner of Poppy’s so I can call off work for the night. He won’t be happy, but it is what it is.
I’m there for the people I care about when they need me, even if they no longer care about me.
Chapter Three
Reagan
“That was nice of Moose, wasn’t it?” Brooklyn says, sitting beside me in the waiting area.
“Yeah, definitely.” I shift in my seat, eyeing the hallway he just disappeared down.
Liam, Savannah, and Brinley have all left to go to the hospital, leaving just the three of us in the shop. But Moose is still in the back doing, well, whatever it is he needed to do.
I’m shocked he offered to do my tattoo. The last time we spoke, things got heated. But everyone else here was none the wiser, so what could I say except, yes? But the idea of him looming over me for an hour or two, his body so close to mine… I’m already struggling to breathe.
He still looks amazing. Six-foot-six of real man wrapped in muscle and tattoos. He still shaves his head, and the tattoos on his neck still stick out from under the collar of his shirt. I momentarily think of the way my tongue used to trace those patterns up his neck and my eyes drift closed.
“Are you okay?” My eyes snap open at Brooklyn’s voice, and I turn my head in her direction.
“Yeah, why?”
“I don’t know, you look flushed or something.” She places the back of her hand on my forehead like the mom she is now and shrugs. “You feel fine.”
Moose’s heavy footsteps sound in the hall and I glance back in that direction. His gaze is trained on me the entire way down the hall, and I suppress a shiver. I forgot what it’s like to be the focus of his attention under his blue gaze.
“Sorry ‘bout that. So what were you looking for, Reagan?”
“I uh… well…” I stumble over my words at first—it’s been a long time since I’ve heard my name from his lips. “I want to get a rainbow. Preferably something that looks like a watercolor where the colors all blend into each other.”
He nods. “Where you want it?”
Moose always was a man of few words.
“Right here.” I point to my rib cage just below my right breast.
He audibly swallows and a muscle tics in his neck. Brooklyn looks between us a couple of times.
“Let me get somethin’ drawn up and we’ll see what you think.” Without waiting for my answer, he turns around and heads over to his station, sitting down and pulling out his pad of paper and a pencil.
Brooklyn and I chat about nothing in particular while we wait. I’m acutely aware that Moose hears every word out of my mouth. Close to a half hour later, Moose heads back over to us and shows me a few options to choose from. He’s so talented it’s hard not to love them all but I make my pick, to which he nods.
“Go lie down on my table. Take the bra off. I’ll give you somethin’ to cover up with when we get started.”
I stiffen in my seat. This is going to be awkward as hell, isn’t it? This man loathes me and I’m going to have to lie there half naked in front of him. I blow out a breath and stand before walking over to his table.
Thank God I carry a big purse because I shove my bra in there after I’ve removed it from under my T-shirt. Brooklyn is holding my coat. It might be the end of June, but it can be cool at night.
I lay down on the table while Moose messes around beside me, getting his station ready.
Brooklyn’s standing to my side. “Oh shoot, you know what? I just saw Colton go into Lucky’s across the street. I need to ask him something about Gizmo. You’re all good here, right Reagan?”
“Um…” She’s seriously stranding me for her dog?
She starts walking toward the door. “I’ll just leave your jacket here and be right back, okay?” She’s out the door before I can argue and suddenly it’s too quiet in here, even with the hard rock playing over the speakers.
Moose says nothing and maybe it’s just me, but the tension is getting so thick in here that I could choke on it.
“Moose, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” I say in a small voice.
“Here’s a towel. Lift up your shirt and you can cover yourself with this.” He tosses a white hand towel onto my stomach without looking at me or even responding to what I said.
With a frown, I take the towel and do what he says, strategically using it to cover myself. But I know this isn’t going to work. The end of it is going to get in his way and I’ll have to remove it and cover my breast with my hand. How do I know this? Because I asked him about it once and I was insanely jealous at the time that bare-chested women could be lying on his table on any given night.
But given our history, I think he’s trying to make me comfortable.
Moose might be huge and imposing and scary at times, but deep down a gruff, yet gentle giant. It’s one of the things I loved most about him.
“Ready to get started?” He spins on his stool to face me and our eyes meet.
All I’m able to do is nod. Being this close to him brings me back to a time when life felt simpler. Once my mom was diagnosed, everything changed and so looking at Moose has always made me feel a level of regret, but I push that aside.
My life has changed once again. My mom has been gone a year and I’m just starting to find my footing and am ready to think about living my own life.
He looks away and grabs the alcohol rub, cleaning the area where the tattoo will go and then after it dries, he presses the stencil to my skin. I pretend the feeling of his hands so close to my breast doesn’t affect me but I’m pretty sure he’s probably picked up on the fact that my breathing has become stoic.