Tattoos and Angels

by Casey McMillin

  "Happy birthday to you too," he said. "I wasn't going to give you your birthday present when I thought he was coming, but now that I know he's not, it's okay for me to give it to you."

  I regarded him in confusion. "I didn't want you to get me anything."

  "It's not that big of a deal."

  "I hope it's a drink, because I could use one right about now."

  "It's not, but I can get you one of those too."

  "What is it?"

  He smiled. "Follow me."

  I walked with him through the living room into one of the hallways. I assumed we were going to his room to get whatever he was talking about, but right when we rounded the corner and were out of sight of everyone, he spun around. I was taken unaware by his sudden stop, and walked right into him. He caught me in his arms and pushed me up against the wall.

  Before I knew what was happening, his lips were only inches from mine. We shared the same breath for a few seconds, and I was suddenly delirious and overwhelmed by an ache I could only describe as crippling desire. He spoke a few words in Spanish before placing an extremely gentle kiss on my lips. I returned it willingly, but he was being so gentle, that returning it only meant that I didn't resist when his lips touched mine. Okay, maybe I did more than just 'not resist', but it was a torturously gentle kiss, so all I did was lean into it.

  "I have been wanting to do that for the last two weeks," he said.

  "That's funny because I heard you left with another girl that night after you kissed me."

  I hadn't actually heard that he left with another girl, but I threw it out there just to see what he would say.

  "If I would have known you cared, it would have been you I left with."

  "I don't care," I assured him.

  He stared down at me, and I kid you not, licked his lips before he spoke again. It was ridiculously gorgeous.

  "Are you sure?"

  He cocked his head at me, and I was powerless to do anything but say, "Maybe I care a little bit."

  The corner of his mouth raised in an almost imperceptible smile. "I knew it." He started to put his lips on mine again, but just before they touched, someone rounded the corner at a brisk pace, nearly bumping into us.

  "Steven, what are you doing?"

  "Oh shit, holy shit. I'm sorry." He screwed up his face as he looked at us, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. "Fuckin shit, were you two just—"

  "Yes we were, so get the hell out," Angel said.

  Steven hesitated for all of a split second before going back the way he came, but the interruption snapped me out of whatever Angel-induced haze I was in.

  "Maybe we should go back out there."

  "Wait."

  "What?"

  "That was my birthday present to you, but you didn't give me yours."

  "And I'm supposed to assume that my present to you is a—"

  I cut off when his lips came down on mine quickly but with that precious gentleness that I obviously craved. I couldn't stop myself—I rested my hand gently on his jaw and stretched upward into his kiss. A tiny, uncontrollable moan escaped my lips, and he sucked my lower lip into his mouth for a second before breaking the contact.

  "Your present to me was better than mine to you," he said. "I'm gonna have to get you something else."

  I giggled. "I better not," I said regretfully.

  I smiled up at him and gave his arm a little squeeze before taking off toward the living room. It was perfect timing because Blake had just come in and was standing near the front of the room when I rounded the corner.

  Chapter 8

  I glanced back at Angel, who was following close behind me. "My friend Blake's here. I see her right over there. Do you want to come meet her?"

  He didn’t answer; he just followed. I walked up to Blake with Angel standing at my side, and I watched her notice him as we approached.

  "This is Angel," I said as soon as we were close enough for her to hear me. The music wasn't loud, so I was about halfway across the room when I said it. She smiled up at him. For a second, I got nervous that she might accidently say something that would let Angel know she knew about him, but she was a smart lady, and I figured I could trust her.

  Blake stuck her hand out as soon as we got within range, and Angel leaned in front of me to shake it. "Blake," she said smiling.

  "It's very nice to meet you, Ms. Blake."

  "Oh, please call me Blake."

  "Who's your friend Charlotte?" Captain Tom's voice came from across two gigantic rooms. He had yelled, and when we turned to look at him, he was just smiling at me as if he was waiting for me to yell right back.

  "I'm gonna go over there to talk to your dad," I said, looking at Angel as I started walking in Tom's direction. "Come on, come meet Tom," I said, glancing at Blake.

  Angel didn't follow us. I wasn't sure if I expected him to or not, but he didn't, and I took note of it. Tom was smiling like the lady-killer he was when Blake and I crossed to the area in the kitchen where he was casually leaning against the cabinets. He stood up straight and put a hand out to Blake. "I've met Charlotte," he glanced at me, smiled, and winked, "How you doin' Charlotte?" Then looking back toward Blake, "But who are you?"

  "I'm Blake Brown. I know Charlotte through my fabric store, where she now works."

  Tom took his time about looking Blake over.

  "Her store is the coolest place ever," I said, breaking the silence. "It's not a regular fabric store." Blake gave me a thankful glance before looking back at Tom.

  "Blake Brown," Tom said slowly. He was smiling as he spoke.

  "Yes sir," she said.

  He flinched. "My crew calls me sir, but you should call me Tom."

  She smiled. "Funny that you brought up your crew, because I was just standing here trying not to notice your tooth or talk about the fact that your reputation precedes you. I probably shouldn't bring up that I know you're notorious and maybe even dangerous."

  "Oh, you don't need to avoid those things," he said, raising an eyebrow. He tilted his head to her and smiled, showing her his teeth. "You can come in closer if you want a better look at my tooth. And as for the other thing you mentioned, I'm one hundred percent notorious—as notorious as they come."

  She stepped a little closer and glanced around suspiciously. "I'm not sure if I believe that now that we've met," she said. "It seems if you were as notorious as you say, you wouldn't be so open about it."

  He stared at her with a sly smile. "On the contrary, dear girl, it's the very fact that I am open about it that makes me so scary. I carry around a skull I took from a man who did nothing more than look at me funny."

  I glared at Tom, but he didn't see me. He told me the real story of how he came to get that scull once when I was over here with Megan. It was a story that made him out to be more of a hero than a villain, and I scowled at him for telling Blake the wrong version.

  "I'll remember to keep my expression neutral," Blake said.

  "Let me assure you that you have nothing to fear from me, dear girl."

  They stared at each other for a second before Blake said, "I like your house."

  "It likes you," Tom said.

  I stared back and forth between the two of them, wide-eyed. Neither of them even noticed I was there. Something was definitely happening between Tom and Blake, and I laughed inwardly at myself that the possibility never crossed my mind. Just then, Angel came up holding two drinks. He held them out for Blake and me, and we both took a cup willingly. "I see you met my son Angel," Tom said. "Have you met the other two?"

  "No, but Charlotte's told me about them. She said you guys have a fishing and furniture business."

  "We do," Tom said, smiling at the things she left out. He gestured to Angel. "We're about to open a gym for this one," he said. "We're putting together a business plan. I always tell my boys it's better if you can stick with something you love. Then it'll never get old. Rory happens to take after his old man. He loves fishing. But Drake's a furniture man
, and Angel loves making male models out of us all."

  "Getting paid to have fun, right?" Blake said. "That's what I'm doing."

  "So you like fabric?"

  "Love it. I'm a nerd—a connoisseur. When I come into a room, I imagine how I could change it with fabric. It's my calling for sure."

  Tom glanced at Angel. "Hey son, why don't you take Charlotte out to see the new koi pond?"

  My eyes got wide again, and Angel noticed my expression when he looked at me. It made him smile, and my stomach seriously did a flip at the sight of it.

  "You want to come see the koi?" he asked.

  "Or you and I could go see the koi," Tom said, looking at Blake.

  "I'm up for that," she said.

  I seriously couldn’t believe this was happening. I wasn't altogether certain that it was a good thing. On the other hand, I didn’t know if it was a bad thing either. I looked up at Angel with a shrug, and just like that, Tom and Blake crossed the kitchen and went out the sliding glass door to the patio.

  "That's crazy," Angel said. I assumed he was talking about Tom and Blake, and even though I was thinking the same thing, I glanced at him with an offended expression.

  "What's crazy?"

  "Dad usually goes for younger women."

  "I knew you were gonna say something rude like that," I said.

  Angel smiled at me, which made me scowl even more. "What?" he asked, defensively. "It's not rude, it's just a statement of fact. He was looking at her like he looks at a thirty-year-old model. It was a compliment."

  I sat there and took him in. I was unable to believe I was in the same scenario. "I can't believe I ended up alone again," I said.

  "If you're referring to right now and to the other night at The Dive, then I'm offended."

  "Don't get me wrong. I'm very thankful you're willing to hang with me, but you know what I'm saying—if it weren't for you being willing to keep me company, I'd be alone. It's just funny."

  "It's not funny," he said. "It's your boyfriend."

  I took a huge sip of the punch he handed me. It went down easy, but I could tell it was strong because my knees started tingling instantly. I was mad at Connor for the moment, but I still defended him. "He's sick," I said.

  Angel smiled at me. "He's washing his dog, right?"

  I glared at him.

  "I'm sorry, but if you have to be taken, at least make it by somebody who deserves you."

  I smiled at him a little sadly. "Flattery will get you everywhere with me tonight."

  He was confused by the word for a second, but then the meaning dawned on him and he looked at me seriously. "It's not flattery. You're different Charlotte. Special. You must know that by now."

  "I'm starting to think that's the problem with Connor."

  "What? Does he not appreciate you for who you are?"

  "No, he does. He really likes me how I am. But I think he might be a little embarrassed of me sometimes. Besides the night we met, we've never been in public together."

  Angel looked at me with a disgusted face. "What the hell's wrong with that guy?"

  "No, no, it's not like that. I don't know why I even said anything. I think it was the punch. Anyway, I'm just being stupid. He came to my uncle's to meet my whole family the other day."

  "Do you want me to drive you to his house to spy on him?" Angel asked. "We could see if he's really sick."

  "I would have never even thought about doing something like that." I paused, considering then shook my head. "I wouldn't want to know."

  "Really?"

  "Can you just get me another one of these?" I asked. I held up my empty cup and Angel took it. Three hours later, most of the crowd had come and gone. It was dark out, and the birthday barbeque had been a success. There was no cake or candles, or anything like that—just an announcement by Tom where he embarrassed Drake and Angel, and acknowledged me as well. He was a natural born speaker. He had the crowd laughing so much that we spontaneously applauded when he finished.

  There was a lot of party after that talk, but it passed in a blur, partly because I was having a lot of fun, and partly because I had a gigantic buzz from the punch. I found myself in the kitchen leaning against the island, staring into the microwave as the carousel turned around and around.

  Angel came to stand next to me. He leaned against the counter, just as I was doing and crossed his arms on his chest. I looked at him. He was so massive. I stared up at him, and it wasn't until right then that I realized how close he was. In fact, he was standing right next to me—pressing up against my side. I scooted over and he scooted closer.

  "I had several drinks, huh?" I asked, smiling up at him. My brain was spinning and I was relatively sure I was waiting for something in the microwave, but couldn't quite remember what it was.

  "Did you make your tea?" he asked.

  Tea! "Yes I did," I said, triumphantly. I reached into the microwave and got my mug full of hot water. "Now where's the tea bag?"

  "I think you should just spend the night here," he said.

  "What time is it?" I asked. I looked at the clock on the microwave that said 12:17. "Is it midnight?" I asked.

  He smiled. "Yep."

  "Blake left like three hours ago."

  "Yep."

  "She kissed your dad."

  "Yep. Well, I'm pretty sure it was the other way around."

  "But she kissed him back. I can't blame her for that. I'd totally kiss your dad if I was like ten or fifteen years older."

  "Thanks Charlotte," Tom said from behind me. "I'd kiss you back if you were ten or fifteen years older."

  I probably should have been embarrassed for having been caught saying that, but I was too buzzed to care.

  "Can I crash in your room without worrying that you'll try anything?" I asked. I whispered so I wouldn't be overheard again.

  "No," he answered, whispering back.

  I thought for sure he would say yes, and I stared up at him, confused. He had dark hair and I could see some stubble coming in on his cheek. "Did you just say no?" I asked, staring up at his jaw and mouth. It wasn't until he smiled and put an arm around me that I realized that I was leaning against him hard enough that if he had moved, I would have fallen over. I stood up straight, but he pulled me into his arms again.

  "Yes I did say no, but I was only kidding. I'd love for you to crash in my room. And I won't try anything if you don't want me to."

  "Well I don't."

  "You don't?"

  I stood there, not knowing what to say. Part of me wanted him to take advantage of me. I knew that was the drunk part, so I said, "I'm tired."

  We were in his bedroom five minutes later. I didn't even make or drink the tea. I just poured the hot water out and replaced it with cold water from the fridge, which I carried with me to his room. I sat at the foot of his bed.

  "Can I borrow a T-Shirt to change into after I shower?"

  Ten minutes later, I was feeling fresh and clean and slightly more clear-headed than I was before my shower. He took five minutes to get cleaned up, and I was already in his bed when he came out. "I'm pretty sure it's inappropriate, but I'm gonna sleep next to you. Your bed's too comfortable."

  "I can sleep on the floor if you want," he said. He was wearing pajama pants. I could see the band of his underwear peeking out from underneath the waistband, and the reason I could was that he had no shirt on his chest!

  His torso was a sight to behold. It was almost too spectacular to look at. In fact, I turned to the side and regarded him through squinted eyes by instinct. "Are you putting a shirt on?" I asked.

  "If I sleep on the floor, it won't really matter."

  "Just put on a shirt so you can sleep up here." He was so gorgeous that I felt a slow burn ignite between my thighs. I was blaming the alcohol, but I wanted his body badly—badly enough that I was willing to sleep next to him even though I knew it wasn't the right thing to do.

  "You have my shirt, so I have to go without it, but don't worry. I won't try anythi
ng."

  I gave him a satisfied grin and held up the covers, inviting him in before dropping them again. "Wait did you just say I had your shirt? Are you implying that this is the only shirt you own?"

  "Yes."

  "You just don't want to put on a shirt."

  "Right," he said, smiling.

  I held up the covers, reluctantly this time, and he crawled in next to me. He sprawled out beside me and pulled me onto his side. I was on my side using his shoulder as a pillow, which forced me to stare at his flawless, broad chest. I caught myself beginning to feel turned on, and pulled away.

  He pulled me to his side again. "Stop," he said. "Just be comfortable."

  "I'm too comfortable."

  "There's no such thing."

  "Just so you know, I'm no good at sex."

  I felt his chest shake as he laughed underneath me. "What do you mean by that?"

  "I don't like the feel of it going in," I said. Okay, so maybe I was a little drunk, and maybe that statement gave him the impression that I wasn't a virgin, but it was what it was, and I already said it. "I think I'm just not good at feeling pleasure like that. It's like I'm too dry or something." I remembered the other night when Connor stuck his finger inside me and it hurt. I felt like I wasn't wet enough.

  "I am a doctor. I could check you out so you'd know for sure."

  I could tell he was smiling, and I lifted my head to look at him. "You are not a doctor," I said.

  He stared down at me with that gorgeous grin. "You caught me."

  I narrowed my eyes. "Are you trying to play doctor with me?"

  Angel didn't hesitate. "Yes," he said. "I could seriously check it out for you. I know a lot of shit about girls."

  "I mean, I would like to know if I have a problem," I said.

  "Just let me check out a few things." He shifted where he was propped up beside me and I stretched out on my back.

  "Does your partner start on the outside of your panties?" he asked, touching me between the legs. I had on a pair of his boxers over my panties, and he was on the outside of both layers when he ran a finger along the slit at the top of my thighs. It was really gentle, but it took everything I had not to thrust into it.