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“Yes. Like a sporting dog who spots a bird. He wants to go get it. Sorry.”
“Like a sporting dog who spots a bird…”
I shrug. “Probably a bad analogy.”
“No, I like it.” Now she’s laughing, if the way her shoulders are shaking is any indication. “So I’m the bird and you’re the dog.”
“No. Your vagina is the bird. And the dog, my dick, really wants the bird. Like, a lot.”
She twirls a lock of hair around her finger, then lets it spring back. “So, what would the dog do if it caught the bird?”
I bite back a laugh. “The dog would eat it, I’m sure.” I look directly into her eyes.
“Are we still referring to my vagina?” She points down toward her lap. “You mean like, eat it eat it?”
“Among other things.”
She sits back against the chair. Her chest heaves with…want? Curiosity? I’m not sure. “I’d be okay with that.”
“Today?” I ask. I’m smiling like a fool. “You want to go to my place when we get done here?”
“Yes.”
The curtain shakes again and her dad pokes his head in. “You getting more ink, huh?” he asks.
“I’d love for my arms to be all the way done,” she says.
“Do you mind if I stay?” Emilio asks, scratching his head.
“I’d be sad if you left,” she says. She holds out a hand to him and he sits down next to her. “Tell me the story of how Marta slapped you in the face the first time you talked to her,” she says.
“Your wife slapped you in the face?” I ask him.
“Oh, I totally deserved it. She should have kneed me in the balls,” he says. Then he starts to tell the story. And I get busy with the second tattoo. But in the back of my mind, all I can think about is the dog and the bird, and I can’t wait to take her home with me so I can spend more time with her. The dog doesn’t always get what he wants. But what I want is her, and I’ll take her however I can get her. I want the small things. And I want the big things. I want her.
I need to know one thing to get started with this tattoo. “What’s your mom and dad’s last name?” I ask Lark.
She looks at Emilio. “Well, now my last name is Vasquez. It used to be Perry.”
“Got it.” I pick up my pen and start to draw freehand on her arm. Her past will collide with her present, but it needs to happen.
Lark
I’m a little more than apprehensive about this tattoo, but only because I have no idea how he could ever top the first one. He did such a beautiful job on it, and although I know he’s a talented artist, there are limits to how creative a person could be. I love the first tattoo so much.
Ryan wrinkles his nose, and then rubs it into his shirt.
“Something wrong?” I ask.
His hands are full, so he doesn’t answer, but he swipes his nose against his shirt again, lifting his shoulder and pressing his face against it.
“Your nose is itching?”
He nods and wiggles his nose.
“Want me to scratch it?”
He waggles his brows at me. It’s a good thing Emilio’s not in here.
