There was a round of nods.
“Right. I live out of town so …” He drifted off. “Otherwise, I work from home, usually remotely, as a contract data analyst. Lots of numbers and spreadsheets really.”
“Interesting,” Celeste said, blandly.
“What about the tattoos?” Faith asked.
Dom’s dark eyes widened as he nodded, looking down toward his arm and shoulders. “They are tattoos.”
“But where did you get them?” Essie helped fill in the blanks of Faith’s general question.
As she did, Celeste looked Dom up and down once more. I knew what she saw. The dark humor and attitude that nearly matched my own. The tattoos. Those were the first things I had noticed too, though at this point, I somehow easily saw past it all. Along with being fiercely strong and loyal, he was also a tiny bit of a nerd when it came to his work and the things he liked.
Dom narrowed his eyes on me before turning back to the rest of them. “I got them when I was pretty young actually. I started my sleeve right when I turned eighteen.”
“Seems young to make that kind of decision,” Celeste said, jumping right back in.
Dom shrugged, pausing, as if deciding how much of himself he was going to bare tonight. “It was needed, honestly. I had some scarring from an accident on one side of my body that I didn’t want to see every day.”
Celeste blinked a few times at the new information.
“I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo,” murmured Faith. “I’ve always thought they preserved life’s chaotic story. You know?”
Dom paused, his eyes softening. “Yeah, I think I do.”
I couldn’t help the small smile pressed against my lips.
“Though,” admitted Faith, “I would probably get something stupid that I’d end up hating. I’d get a book or tea or something that archeologists would be very confused by, I’m sure.”
“Like the Arthurian sword down your back?” Essie asked, smirking.
Faith’s eyes widened in utter delight at the entirely new idea. “I don’t think I could ever regret that.”
“I was actually getting a piece of my last tattoo filled in last summer. I ended up passing by here, and I … stopped,” said Dom, seeming to shock himself at the admission.
I turned my entire body toward him.
“You weren’t meant to stay?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I missed the appointment.”
“You stayed in Barnett for the entire summer?” I had to repeat the statement to fully understand what he had casually said.
It wasn’t a trip that he had planned to the small town for any reason to get away, like he had said. Or rather, he was trying to get away and ended up at Bar for the evening. Only the next morning, in my bed, he stayed.
Dom had stayed nearly two months, completely unintentionally.
He nodded, as if reading my thoughts.
“I thought I’d just pop in and check the town out. Then, that night, I met you, and, well, to be honest”—he swallowed, staring directly at me, his eyes not straying—“I was never so glad to miss an appointment. Never so glad to have stopped here for …”
You.
I could hear the word, even when it wasn’t spoken. Or maybe I just wanted it to be.
“Well, this has been nice to clear up,” said Faith, slapping her hands on her knees to interrupt the moment.
It had been a moment. My heart beat so loud that I could hear it in my ears as I looked back and forth from the floor up toward Dom.
