by Ranae Rose
She wasn’t. As she paused at the threshold, her heart skipped a beat, then raced ahead.
“Hey,” he said, eyes locking with hers as he stood cradling his niece against his chest. There was no sign of the car seat, but he carried the diaper bag slung over one shoulder. It looked fit to burst, and a tiny pink sleeve hung out one side, stuck in the zipper. The yellow daisies and lavender elephants printed on the bag contrasted with his worn jeans and charcoal grey t-shirt, which was dotted with white flecks of formula near the collar.
“Hey,” she replied, steadying herself with a hand against the doorframe. “How was your first night with the baby?”
“Long.” He shifted his grip on his niece, holding her a little higher on his shoulder. She was dressed in striped footie pajamas he must’ve picked up during his shopping trip the evening before. A matching cap hid her hair and the tips of her ears. “We both survived though, so I guess that’s something.”
“I never had any doubts,” she said, smiling even though her insides were knotted with a strange combination of anxiety and anticipation. A part of her was looking forward to spending the day caring for a newborn. Who didn’t love the smell of baby soap and the feel of silky baby hair?
Another part of her wondered just what sort of state she’d be left in when James returned after his shift and the distractions of caring for an infant ended. She’d just have to cross that bridge when she came to it.
“That makes one of us,” he said. “If you’ll take her, I’ll head back down to the car – I picked up something on my way here.”
She let him place the sleeping baby in her arms, as charmed by the way he handed her over – like she was made of glass – as she was by the weight of the child against her chest.
“Be right back.” He turned and she watched him go, unable to help admiring the view. Those jeans…
The baby awoke with a grunt, opening dark blue eyes.
“Hungry, huh?” Arianna asked as the little girl began gnawing on a pudgy fist. “Let’s see if you’ve got a bottle in here…” She knelt and dug one-handedly in the diaper bag James had put down just inside the door. Sure enough, there was a full bottle inside.
She settled down with the baby on one of her kitchen stools just as he returned, carrying a colorful baby swing.
“Realized earlier this morning that she wouldn’t have anything to sleep in here.” He set the little seat down on the kitchen floor. “It swings, but I didn’t think to get batteries. Figure it’ll still be useful, though.” A plastic elephant hung above a seat fitted with nylon straps.
“I might have some batteries,” she replied, thinking of the stash she kept under the kitchen sink. “I’ll check as soon as she’s done with her bottle.”
He nodded. “Her name is Emily.”
A spark of surprise flared inside her. “Did your sister get in touch with you?”
The way James frowned made her regret asking. “No. Found some papers in her bag. A birth letter, insurance card – stuff like that.”
“Oh.” Arianna buried an eyetooth in her inner lip, wondering if his sister had included anything else – like an explanation – but not daring to ask. “Before you leave…”
Glad for an excuse to change the subject, she tipped her head toward a roll of paper towels that sat on the counter. “You’ve got a little something on your shirt – just below the collar.”
He blinked, crossed the kitchen and tore a towel from the roll, wetting it before scrubbing away the spit-up Emily had left on his clothing.
When he was done he raised a hand, raking it through his blond hair, which was just long enough to ripple as his fingers tore through it. The tattoos on his hands winked in and out of sight. “I hate to just dump her on you and leave, but I’m running late.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine. See you around eight, right?” It was slightly past noon now.
“Give or take half an hour, yeah.” He advanced toward the door, looking strangely empty-handed. “Thanks again. If you think of a way I can ever pay you back, just let me know. I owe you big time.”
* * * * *
“James.”
“Yeah?” James turned, one hand on the half wall of his booth. There was still a faint coolness in the air, courtesy of a breeze that had followed him down the aisle as he’d hurried inside Hot Ink.
Jed stood at the end of the aisle, just outside the door to his office. James’ booth was one of the very last ones, so there were hardly a few feet between them. “I need to talk to you.” He tipped his head toward the open door.
James’ stomach sank. Was Jed going to give him shit over almost coming in late? Usually, he was there early. Now, he was just glad his client seemed to be running five minutes late, which gave him a little time to prepare.
“It’s about the wedding,” Jed said when they were inside the combined office and storage area, where a desk took up one side of the room and shelves lined the other.
“Huh?”
“You know Karen and I are getting married,” Jed said, his dark eyes locking with James’.
“Yeah. Everyone knows.” Jed’s fiancée Karen was best friends with Mina, one of Hot Ink’s receptionists. As soon as their engagement had become official, the news had spread through the studio like wildfire.
Jed nodded. “Well, the wedding’s coming up sooner than you might’ve expected. There’s this wedding photographer Karen has her heart set on, but she stays booked up a year ahead of time. She had a cancellation though, and Karen knows her. She offered Karen the spot – the third weekend in June, just five weeks from now. So that’s when we’re holding it.”
“I’m happy for you, man.” He was. Everyone at Hot Ink was, especially in light of Jed’s past.
“Thanks, but I’m telling you all this because I want to ask you something – will you be my best man?”
A sense of surprise rippled through James, disrupting the thoughts of Emily and Arianna that had been racing through his head ever since the evening before, clouding his ability to focus on anything else. “You want me to be your best man?”
“Yeah. You’re not surprised, are you?”
He was, though he didn’t say it. He and Jed had been close for years; it wasn’t weird, when he thought about it. He just wasn’t used to thinking about anyone holding him in such high regard – old habits died hard.
“You’ll do it, right?” Jed leaned against the desk, arms crossed.
“You know I will.” There wasn’t much Jed could’ve asked him for that he would’ve said no to, and being a part of his wedding wasn’t even close to being on that list.
“Great. Weeks away is last minute when it comes to planning a wedding, according to Karen.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Don’t worry – you couldn’t stop her from handling all the details if you tried. She’ll probably want you to get fitted for a tux sometime soon though.”
James nodded. “That’s not a problem.”
“Good—”
A soft knock sounded, and the door swung inward.
“Hey James,” Zoe said, poking her head inside. “Just thought you’d want to know your client’s here.”
“Thanks.” He nodded to Jed and exited the office, striding out into the waiting area to greet the guy who he’d last seen for a consult a month and a half ago.
“You ready for this tattoo?” he asked, mentally reviewing the design he’d finished a couple weeks ago. When he was done, it’d be something his client could be proud of for the rest of his life. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it’d pale in comparison to the last tattoo he’d done – Arianna’s sugar skull design.
Then again, maybe that thought had as much to do with the incredible body he’d laid that ink into as it did with the design itself. It wasn’t like he’d been able to stop thinking of Arianna and what they’d missed out on, even with Emily to distract him. No, he had a serious case of blue balls and it wasn’t like he’d had any time to d
o anything about it the night before. As a result, he still ached for Arianna, and the thought of her colored everything he did. Stopping by her apartment that night for purely practical reasons was going to be a sweet sort of hell.
* * * * *
A shiver zipped down Arianna’s spine as water coursed down her arm, sweeping over her fresh tattoo and washing soap bubbles from her skin. The water was colder than she’d expected.
Adjusting the bathroom faucet, she held a washcloth under the now lukewarm flow and squeezed it over her arm, repeating the process. Gently, she used her fingertips to massage the last traces of mild soap from her skin, not daring to use anything rougher.
A knock came at the door, and she dropped the washcloth. It landed on top of one of her feet with a splat. Bending to pick it up, she crossed the small bathroom and took a dry one from the closet, then patted her arm dry.
Freshly washed, the sugar skull stared up at her, an errant bead of water shining from the corner of one eye socket, tear-like. The healing process had just begun, but it was obvious that as long as she took good care of it, the tattoo would be gorgeous. The thought was satisfying but quickly relegated to the backburner of her mind, overshadowed by nervous anticipation as she made her way through the living room, toward the door.
“Coming,” she called softly – probably too softly for James to even hear. Emily was sleeping in her swing, beside the couch, and she didn’t want to wake her.
Sure enough, it was James who’d knocked. He looked much like he had that morning, minus the white stain on his shirt. There were dark circles under his eyes, but she hardly noticed them, the grey-green of his irises was so distracting. “You’re a little early.”
“My last client was like you – didn’t want to stop for any breaks. Saved me some time. Figured you’d be glad.”
She was glad to see him, but not because watching his niece had been bad. Actually, she’d enjoyed it – mostly. Now, she was a little afraid of how empty her apartment might seem when James and Emily were gone. Spending the day tending to a newborn had been a dramatic change from her usual days passed in silence in front of her computer screen – a change that had emphasized just how lonely her days typically were.
“Emily was no trouble.” She tipped her head toward the swing. “She’s fast asleep now – ate a whole bottle about half an hour ago.”
James nodded and strode across the room, picking up the diaper bag by the strap and hefting it onto his shoulder.
Arianna’s gaze drifted back to the purple shadows under his eyes. “I’m sure she’ll sleep for a little while longer, if you’d like a cup of coffee. You look really tired.”
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Coffee would be great.”
She set to work making him some. She had a single cup brewer, so it only took a minute. When she was done, she made one for herself, too, and they settled at the kitchen table. “Cream and sugar?”
He shrugged. “If you don’t mind – anything to stay awake at this point.”
Moments later, as she watched him raise the steaming cup to his lips, a frisson zipped down her spine. It wasn’t unlike the one that had affected her minutes ago, as cold water had coursed down her arm. This time though, it had nothing to do with her new tattoo and everything to do with the man who’d given it to her. “Was last night rough?”
James met her eyes over the rim of his coffee cup, and his free hand twitched against the table, like he wanted to be doing something else with it. Raking it through his hair, maybe. “Last night wasn’t that bad, to be honest. It was today that was rough. All day, I couldn’t stop thinking about Emily – wondering what the hell I was going to do. You saved my ass today, but there’s still tomorrow. And the next day…”
He took a long drink of his coffee, steam rising and curling in front of his face. Hopefully, he wasn’t burning his tongue.
Arianna took a more modest sip of her own drink, hiding the reflexive frown that leapt to her lips as she studied the lines worry had etched across his forehead. “You’re not counting on your sister showing up anytime soon, huh?”
He shrugged, shoulders jerking in a rigid motion. “How can I count on anyone who’d abandon their own kid? She left a note in the bag, but it didn’t say much.”
“And you’re going to do what she was counting on – take care of Emily for however long she’s gone?”
He didn’t shrug this time. Instead, he lowered his cup and raked his hand through his hair, pausing afterward to touch the bridge of his nose. He didn’t seem to notice he’d done it, but it drew Arianna’s attention to the bump there. He must’ve broken it at some point.
“Yeah,” he finally said. “It’s not like she has anywhere else to go. I can’t just abandon her – no kid deserves that.” His eyes seemed to turn a darker shade of grey-green, as if cast in shadow.
She didn’t ask whether James had any other family members who might help take care of Emily. Obviously, he didn’t – why else would he have turned to her, someone he barely knew? Clearly, he was on his own. “Do you have work tomorrow?”
He nodded.
“I’ll watch her again for you. Just drop her off—”
He shook his head. “I already feel bad for leaving her with you today. You don’t have to keep helping me – this isn’t your problem.”
Maybe it shouldn’t have been, but she’d been there when he’d discovered the baby on his doorstep and now she couldn’t help but feel like she’d be abandoning him, somehow, if she didn’t lend a hand. Plus, she liked him – maybe more than she had a right to. Seeing the dark circles beneath his eyes and the lines across his forehead made her ache to ease what was bothering him.
“I want to help. Really.”
He shook his head again. “You have a job, too. I know you can’t be getting any work done with Emily around. Leaving her with you – someone I barely know – so that I can go off and do my own thing… Maybe I’m not much better than my sister.”
His words sent a ripple of shock through Arianna. “Don’t say that – it’s ridiculous. And actually, I got quite a bit done today while she was napping. I had a full night’s sleep last night, so it’s not like I needed to rest while she was sleeping, and newborns sleep a lot. I mean it; you can keep dropping her off here whenever you have work, until you figure something else out.”
He met her eyes again, and she got the feeling that he was searching for … something. His expression was a little guarded, but his eyes were clear, windows wide open to project his uncertainty. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“If it gets to be too much, I’ll let you know.” She wouldn’t back out after giving her word, but he looked like he needed reassurance. “I actually enjoyed today.”
A cry came from the living room, and James turned in his seat.
Arianna craned her neck to look at Emily. “Looks like she spit out her pacifier.” She leapt up before James could do the same and crossed the room, picking up the pacifier from where it had landed in Emily’s lap and placing it back in her mouth.
She settled back down immediately, slipping back into silent sleep.
When Arianna returned to the kitchen, James was standing. His eyes traveled over her body, lingering on her arm and then snapping up to meet her gaze. “How’s your new tattoo?”
She stopped beside him, glancing down at his coffee cup and seeing that it was empty already. “I think it looks great, don’t you? It’s just starting to heal.”
He raised a hand, touching her upper arm lightly, just above one of the marigolds that framed the skull. “Yeah. It looks great. Sugar skulls are a Mexican thing, right?”
“Yes. I’ve always liked them… I guess some people might think they’re a little creepy, but I think they’re gorgeous. Plus, one of my grandmothers is Mexican, and I thought it’d be nice to have a tattoo that reflected that part of my heritage.”
“I don’t think it’s creepy at all. It’s beautiful, like you said, and if it means som
ething to you, so much the better. Yours is the first one I’ve tattooed.”
“Yeah, well, you have to pierce anyone who walks into Hot Ink anywhere they want, so you probably have a different concept of ‘creepy’ than most.” She smiled to let him know she was teasing, remembering the conversation they’d had when he’d tattooed her last. It was nice to have an excuse to smile, because with him touching her, it was impossible not to.
An answering smile flickered across his face. “Hey, somebody’s gotta do it.”
“What inspired you to pierce people, anyway? None of the other artists at Hot Ink do it.”
He looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. “Like you said, none of the other artists at Hot Ink do it. It seemed logical to learn and to offer the service. Plus…” His smile flashed back into place, then broke into a full-fledged grin. “There’s always the chance that I’ll get to pierce somebody like you anywhere you want.”
It was obvious he was only teasing, but the heat of a blush spread across her face anyway. “I guess piercing other guys’ hairy nipples is the other side of the coin,” she replied, doing her best to keep her voice steady.
He nodded, looking grave. “Yeah, it is.”
“So, do you think you’ll ever get any piercings? I mean, tattoo artists always have tattoos, right? And you have a ton of those.” Her gaze flickered to his arms, where ink extended all the way to his hands. A trail of stars stood out bold and dark on one arm, drawing her eye, but what she liked best were the mandala designs decorating his hands, sprawling dark and intricate to the edges of his knuckles. “But you pierce people, and you don’t have any piercings.”
“What makes you think I don’t have any?”
His reply caught her off guard. As an avalanche of possibilities spilled through her mind, she searched his eyes. A teasing light shone there – did that mean he wasn’t serious?
“Well, I don’t see any piercings,” she said bravely, willing away the heat that threatened to creep to the surface of her skin.
