Business Casual (Lovelight, #4)

by B.K. Borison

“Your work. Why did you want to be a tattoo artist? Why not something else?” “Because…” Her eyes flick up and then back down again. “Probably because I like the permanency of it. The idea that someone, somewhere, is walking around with something I made painted on their skin.” She smiles, bashful. “Our bodies are miracles, aren’t they? It feels like the best sort of gift to be trusted like that. An honor, really.” “But you won’t give me a scorpion on my ass?” Her face brightens again, a laugh in her eyes. “No, Charlie. I won’t give you a scorpion on your ass. Or a Looney Tune in the middle of your chest.” She leans back against the arm of the couch and looks at me. Eyes lowered, comfortable in the silence that stretches between us. It’s an honor to have this—this yawning quiet. This warm, settled feeling. I’m aware of my heartbeat, steady in my chest. A bum bum bum that I feel in the palms of my hands. “Think about it.” I take another sip of my beer. “About your ass?” “Always about my ass. But also about what tattoo I should get.” She considers me, seriously this time. “I’ll think about it,” she says. “Good.”