Temporary (Indelibly Marked #2) (26 page)

Chapter
Twenty-Three

The clouds, the greens and browns of the mountains and trees
in Beachwood Canyon perfectly complemented the vibrant, almost glowing blue sky
to perfection. Emily was sure the perfect day was a small gift from the
universe to her brand new little niece.

Without Ivan sharing the stadium view from their private
spot, the world seemed muted, dull, and boring, but she had to go there. They’d
always gone here for reflection.

She had run out of the hospital and managed to hail a cab, a
maneuver not approved by either her brothers or Ivan. Still, she slid in the
dirty back seat. Without thinking of the consequences, she directed the driver
then sent him away, leaving her stranded. Maybe she wanted Ivan to run after
her, maybe she wanted to be stranded, maybe one day she would think of the
consequences.

“Probably not.” Her voice echoed through the lonely air, but
she wouldn’t leave until she figured out her life.

She tensed as a car came speeding around the bend. Her heart
hitched, did someone come for her?

Instead the car passed the little alcove, the passengers
most likely never giving the little clearing a second glance and leaving her
alone once more.

Alone. She could count on one hand how many times she’d
truly been alone in her life and not even use her thumb.

Even if she was by herself, she was never alone. What did
she aim to prove by going there and stranding herself? She knew what she
wanted, and damn her, she was acting like a baby. No wonder Ivan could never
fully commit. She slipped her hand into her purse to get her phone, and get out
of there. Once more her thoughts were interrupted by a vehicle.

The growing rumble of a motorcycle,
the
motorcycle,
told her she’d been located. No doubt to be retrieved by her brother’s reinstated
partner in crime. He wasn’t hers anymore.

Her heart seized. After everything, she wouldn’t allow him
to give her another half-assed excuse or promise. She could survive alone.
Before he could see her, she dashed behind one of the larger trees, and willed
her muscles to remain still.

The motorcycle stopped. “Emily!”

She pressed her back to the tree, the rough bark jabbing
into her.

“I know you’re here. I can feel it.” Ivan’s footsteps and
voice amplified. The man stood less than a foot away on the opposite side of
the tree. “Well, if you’re not here, I know you will be, so I’ll just stay
until you come to me.”

Stuck in a battle of wills, she wrapped her arms around
herself, though she was afraid that the blood pounding through her veins could
be heard for miles around.

“You know,” after several minutes he spoke again, using his
voice soft. “If you were here, I would have told you that it only took me so
long to get here because I had to speak to your brother.”

She held her breath.

“Yeah, we hung out for a while. I told him about the lawsuit
and he let Dillon see the baby.”

She dug her nails into her palm, but her eyes heated with
tears.

“You know, you were right. I should have never broken into
that guy’s place. I should have never risked it. Shane was even pissed. I need
to remember, I’m an artist.”

She bit the inside of her mouth.

“Yeah, so after all that, before leaving to find you, I told
Shane one last thing.” He sidestepped around the tree trunk until he stood
beside her.

Anytime he came near, the air around her changed. Excitement
and magic surrounded her, rendering her powerless. “What did you tell him?”

“That we were together.” He spoke the words as if he and
Shane were discussing a tattoo.

“I never meant to try to force you to do anything. I wanted
it too badly.” She continued to stare straight ahead. “We were never truly
together. I know that now.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He laughed. “I don’t think I
realized it until I lost you, but like it or not, you and I have been in a
relationship for a long time. Not only the year we were sleeping together, but
the past few weeks while we dated, become exclusive, and moved in together.
Like it or not, we are a couple, and we are good together.”

She shut her eyes. Last night she fled her empty apartment
and ended up staying on Dillon’s couch. “I should have listened to you when you
said why you broke in.”

“I wanted you so badly, I was terrified I would lose you.”
He slid his hand over the tree trunk and captured hers, interlacing their
fingers. “Why do you think I gave you that hummingbird?”

“Because you like hummingbirds?” She glanced down at their
hands together. No one would ever fit her like Ivan. “Every time we’re here, if
you see one you point it out.”

“I always point them out because hummingbirds represent joy,
which you bring to me every second we’re together. They remind you to savor
every moment.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. “They also represent life.”

“Life?” Two tears fell.

“Life can change really fast, but you can’t live and be too
scared to live.” He moved in front of her. “I also told your brother one last
thing before I came to find you.”

“What was that?” Her whole body trembled and she prayed she
wasn’t dreaming.

“I told him that I love you.” He slid his hand in his pocket
and lowered himself down to one knee.

Her strength gave out. She got down on her knees with him
and stared into his eyes.

“Yes, I love you. So much that I can’t see living without
you.” He put the box in his palm. “I know it may seem fast, but in reality it
was years in the making. I had to wait for you to catch up.”

“Did I?” She pressed her hand to her chest.

“Absolutely.” He opened the box.

After blinking through the tears, she instantly recognized
the ring. “That’s your mother’s.” She’d always loved the vintage platinum
setting with the one large round diamond surrounded by clusters of smaller
stones, like a gorgeous jewel encrusted flower.

“I would like it to be yours.” He took it out of the box.
“Let’s do this for real and forever.”

“I’ve always loved you.” She held her hand out and he
slipped the ring on her finger. He not only committed to her, he gave her the
ultimate promise. “It fits.”

“Of course it does. You’re the only person who would ever do
it justice.” He pulled her into his arms. “We’re not in the temporary business,
our work is permanent.”

###

BONUS
SNEAK PEEK

Apprentice

Book Three: The Indelibly Marked Series

“This is it.” Sophie Weston tilted her head up and took in
the sign. Permanent Tattoo. Though impressive in the California sun, at night
when the red neon glowed bright, it was sure to be spectacular.

She pressed her hand to her chest, trying to comfort her
heart which seemed set on running itself ragged. Her lungs refused to take a
full breath. The road trip her brother couldn’t make with her, except in
spirit, would be complete the moment she stepped inside.

Once, twice, and a third time she reached for the door
handle, but her shaking hand betrayed her and stopped just short of reaching
its goal. Maybe she should have left a message explaining that she was on the
way instead of showing up unannounced, but for the first time in her life, she
had to take action.

 “I have to do this.” She squeezed her eyes tight and
visualizing the speech she’d practiced the entire bus ride from Seattle. She
moved forward and tripped on the threshold the second the door gave way. With
disjointed, uneven steps, she stomped inside, but managed to catch herself on
the opposing wall before falling flat on her face on the checkerboard floor.
“Oh, no!”

Her portfolio wasn’t as lucky and landed with a thud,
scattering papers all over. The entire grand entrance was punctuated by a
little bell chime that announced her arrival.

“Whoa!” A man’s voice joined the bell. “You okay over
there?”

Her palms and her pride stinging, Sophie turned. Even though
snow never fell in Southern California, she froze at the question. It wasn’t
part of her rehearsed routine.

She might have visited numerous tattoo studios, but she
never encountered what she and her friends dubbed the Holy Grail. However,
standing in the middle of Permanent Tattoo, she was quite certain she’d
stumbled upon something as rare as an ancient artifact, but she had to make
sure. “Are you a tattoo artist?”

The man’s light blue eyes sparkled and his eyebrows lifted.
“Let me check.” He made over-exaggerated movements, inspecting the sleeve
tattoos covering both his arms. He lifted the bottom of his blue t-shirt to
reveal yet more tattoos on his flat stomach, and that incredible V of defined
muscles leading from his hips to below the waist of his jeans.

Although not sure what he needed to inspect, she wanted to
volunteer to help him. Practiced speech or not, she would improvise. Who was
she kidding? She would never have the nerve.

He lowered his shirt and gave her a mischievous grin as if
he were about to do something bad. Pointing to the wall she’d just slapped into
only a minute before, he spoke again. “The art you collided with is mine, and
as much as I like drawing it on paper, imbedding it in skin is even more fun…so
yes, I am a tattoo artist.”

Oh my.
Yes, she caught the rare find, the hot tattoo
artist, the genuinely gorgeous one. The kind of tattoo artists only depicted on
a reality show, but didn’t exist in real life. At least that’s what all the
other artists she knew told her. Every cell in her body longed to lift her cell
phone and take a picture to capture the rare exhibit.

With a stare she simply stood with her mouth literally half
open as he made his way around the front counter and began picking up her lost
papers.

He gathered them all up, flipped his hair out of his face
and held the papers out to her. “Either you are copiously researching what
tattoo you want, or you are an artist, too.”

“Neither.” She took her papers and pushed her glasses up on
her nose to get a better look at him in his natural habitat and in all his
glory. The man had it all, besides the eyes, he also sported a scant bit of
stubble, and what she would dub as strong, sharp features.

He stared at her. His gaze took her in and made her shift
her weight from one foot to the other.

“Are you going to let me in on the secret?” He asked with a
grin.

“Oh, yes.” She made sure she didn’t drop anything else and
followed him, taking her steps slow, desperate not do anything else
embarrassing.

“I’m ready.” He returned to his spot behind the counter.

Yes, nothing embarrassing, like not answering his question.
She glanced down at her portfolio with the pages all askew on top and out of
order. Did her art compare? Could it ever compare? The burgundy and black walls
were covered in some of the most incredible pieces in all different styles, but
that was why she went there. Permanent Tattoo was renowned for their excellent
work.

“Let’s try something else.” He chuckled, put his elbow on
the glass counter and rested his magnificent face on his hand. “I’m Carson
Elliott, Tattoo Artist, and you are?”

“Elliott?” She gasped.

“Your name is Elliott, too?” Again, the laugh.

She winced. “No, I’m looking for Shane Elliott.” Well, at
least she got one line out.

“Aw, and here I thought you came tumbling in here for me.”
He pursed out his lower lip. “If you tell me who you are and why you’re here,
maybe I’ll tell you where he is.”

“Hey!” A deep, male voice boomed through the building. “Why
is it so quiet in here?”

Carson straightened up and turned around. “Shut up!”

“What’s going on?” A man she recognized joined them carrying
a little baby girl. With his signature Mohawk, he had to be none other than the
famous Shane Elliott. “The bathroom needs cleaning”

 “The last time I looked the bucket and sponges were under
the sink.” Carson shook his head.

“I don’t think you understand. The bathroom needs cleaning.”
Shane bounced the baby in his arms. “Harlow and I had an issue.”

“Is she decontaminated now?” Carson narrowed his eyes,
leaned in and gave the baby a sniff. He nodded and plucked the little girl out
of Shane’s arms.

The baby smiled and giggled.

Sophie bit her lip and waved at the baby, wondering who the
little girl belonged to.

“Harlow’s golden, the bathroom is not.” Suddenly, Shane
turned and faced her. “Who are you?”

She sucked in her breath and jumped back.

“I’ve been trying to figure that out. All I’ve deduced is
her name isn’t Elliott and she’s here to see you.” Carson held up his hand to
the baby and she put her hand in his.

 “Okay, while you go clean the bathroom, I will figure out
what Miss Not Elliott is doing here.” Shane crossed his arms.

 “
Au contraire
, you are forgetting I am no longer
your apprentice.” Carson lifted Harlow up with both hands and she let out a
squeal and a laugh. “I will hold this for you while you clean the bathroom.”

Apprentice. She raised her hand at the word.

“Wait, I think she’s going to talk,” Shane said and pointed
at her.

She broke out into a sweat and her mouth dried out.

Both men and even the baby stared at her.

“I’m looking to be an apprentice.” Her voice came out
scratchy like an old time record.

“What?” Shane leaned forward. “Who are you?”

“I came here from Seattle to apply for the position of your
apprentice.” Her mind seized, ground to a halt, and she defaulted to her
pre-rehearsed speech. “I have studied tattooing for several years, my brother
wanted to be a tattoo artist, I have always drawn and I studied art.”

Not wanting to look up, she went to her book. Her handouts
were in complete disarray. “I brought some samples.” She spread out the papers
and several pages wafted to the floor and she quickly rushed to retrieve them.

“Wait.” Shane called out.

She glanced up. The smiles and laughter had disappeared from
the men’s faces, replaced by blank expressions.

“Am I interviewing apprentices?” Shane asked.

“Not that I know of.” Carson looked between her and the
baby.

She tried to remember to breathe.

“Do you have any tattoos?” Shane narrowed his eyes.

Rule one of tattoo etiquette was not to ever lie about a
tattoo and she shook her head.

He barreled her with another question. “Have you ever worked
in a tattoo shop?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Did you come all the way from Seattle straight here?” The
question came out more as an accusation.

She stood stuck with her mouth open and no way to answer.

“Do you know your own name?” The man tapped his foot.

“Shane.” Carson cleared his throat.

Her stomach bottomed out and she had to get out of there.
Yes, she came straight there from Seattle, didn’t even find a place to stay yet
and never told them her name, and it was supposed to be in the first line of
her script. She gathered up her things, crinkling some of the pages in the
process. “My name is Sophie Weston, and I think I’m in the wrong place. I’m
sorry I bothered you.” She spun on her heel and walked straight out the door,
thankful that she didn’t trip on anything, and they didn’t see her tears.

Once outside, she shuddered at her own actions, made her way
to the corner and covered her face with her hands, again dropping her
portfolio. It landed with a sad thump, and she didn’t dare look to find out
what happened to her drawings in the busy street. If she walked back to the bus
station, maybe she could make it back to Seattle sometime within the century.

 “Sophie.” The voice she recognized as Carson’s came up
behind her.

She held her hand up in hopes he would leave.

“You forgot these.” He went to her side and thrust a few
more of her papers at her. “Let me help you pick these up.”

For a second time she watched him clean up her mess.

“You know, my brother forgot to ask you the most important
question.” He corralled her drawings even stepping into the street to get a
couple and returned them all to her.

She reached for her book, but he turned away from her.

“Why do you want to be a tattoo artist?” He began putting
the pages back in order.

Unable to meet his eyes, she stared out at the traffic. “I
love the idea of something permanent, about someone being so passionate about
something that they want it put on their body. I have always loved art. I
didn’t get a tattoo yet because my brother was supposed to give me my first
tattoo, but since that’s not possible, I want my first to be from someone who
matters.”

“Why come here?” He continued straightening the book.

With no more script to rely on, she finally found her voice.
“It’s the best.”

“Shane isn’t taking any apprentices at the moment.” He held
her book out.

“Well, he isn’t taking me, that’s for sure.” She forced a
smile at the Holy Grail and reached to take her portfolio.

“Maybe you should ask if his brother is.” Right before she
grabbed it, he held it up out of her reach.

Carson Elliott, of course, Shane’s brother. “You?”

“Your art is good. It could be better. I read the résumé you
dropped on the floor, you’re more than qualified, and I’m glad you didn’t gunk
up your skin with a bunch of crap ink. I get a clean canvas.” He raised his
eyebrows.

She paused, the possibilities running through her head.

He handed her the book. “Everyone wants Shane. Go walk down
Hollywood, I’m sure you’ll find a shop.”

“I would rather have you.” She blurted out her answer before
he walked away.

“Why?”

Off script, she answered from her gut. “Who better to teach
me than the man who learned from Shane? You must know all the secrets.”

He laughed. “You were supposed to say…because I’m much
better looking.”

Well, while Shane wasn’t bad, she never met a man who looked
like Carson. It went without saying he was better looking than anyone. Her
cheeks heated.

“Your blush was the right answer.” He walked backward and
indicated for her to follow.

Somehow without stumbling, she kept up. He guided her back
into the tattoo studio where Shane, the baby, and several other men stood
behind the counter.

“Everyone, meet my new apprentice, Sophie,” Carson announced
as he took her bag and her things.

The gathered crowd clapped.

“What’s first?” She stayed close by his side. Maybe they
could start by drawing together, or she could watch him create.

He pointed the way. “The bucket and sponges are under the
sink.”

She glanced around at her new workplace and headed straight
for the bathroom. She’d made it inside Permanent Tattoo. Now she only hoped
that she could stay.