Page 46 of The Woman Left Behind

Evidently she was getting a tattoo.

Fourteen

Levi’s phone signaled an incoming text and he glanced at the screen. What he read had him swearing and turning the truck around, never mind that he was almost at team headquarters. What thefuckwere they up to? “Taking Babe to get a tattoo” wasn’t something he wanted to read. For one, he was sure that if she wanted a tattoo, she’d already have gotten one. Two, she had looked completely wiped out, and in no shape to resist being swept along on a crazy idea. This had Jelly and Crutch written all over it, but it seemed as if all the others had joined in, even Boom, though Boom at least had the sense to let him know what was going on.

If she wanted one, fine, that was her business. But knowing what he knew about the two jokesters on the team—he quickly thumbed in a reply to Boom’s text asking two important things:is she willing, and where the hell are you?

His phone rang. Boom. “Hey, Ace, I think she’s seized control. She laid down the conditions under which she agreed. The guys are having fun, and she’s going along with it. I’m watching, I won’t let them go out of bounds.”

“Thank God,” he muttered. “Where are you?”

“Almost at Hilda’s War Ink. That was one of her conditions, that she have a woman tattoo artist.” He laughed. “You can tell she’s new at this.”

“Where the hell is Hilda’s War Ink?”

Boom gave him the address.

Levi calculated distance and time. “Look, I’ll be there in thirty. Don’t let them get crazy.”

“We’re good. Babe has this.”

She would, too,Levi thought. He was getting alarmed for nothing, and he couldn’t be seen as protecting her. He should probably turn around and go back to headquarters, but—on second thought, he wanted to see this.

Hilda’s War Ink was an unadorned storefront with the name on a sign andtattoosblinking in neon in the window. The number of vehicles parked in front probably made passersby think the place was doing a booming business. He found a parking spot down the street and headed in.

The front room was small and filled to overflowing with his team. There were three chairs, which meant the others were either sitting on the floor or leaning against the wall. From behind a drawn curtain came the buzz of a tattoo gun. “Hey, Ace,” Jelly said with a wide grin. “Guess what?”

“I guess you’ve been up to some shit,” he said equably and joined the wall leaners. “I was feeling left out.”

There was a rumble of laughter, and from behind the curtain Babe called out, “No one is allowed behind the curtain! That’s one of the rules.Ouch!”

“And I’m backing her up,” came another female voice from behind the curtain. “Hold still, honey. Man, this is so pretty.”

Crutch groaned. “Ah hell, you’re getting aprettytattoo?”

“What did you think I’d get?” she shot back.

“Something that makes a statement.Prettydoesn’t make a statement.”

“Not your tattoo, so butt out.”

Levi grinned. He should have known she’d handle it. She hadn’t taken any shit from any of them since day one. His personal opinion and involvement aside, the guys seemed to enjoy having her around. She was good at her job. Wanting to get in her pants was his problem, and he’d keep it that way.

“Tell us what you’re getting,” he called. “Describe it.”

“None of your business. This is my tattoo, and mine alone.” There was a quick intake of breath that signaled another stab of pain. Having a couple of tats himself, he knew how that went.

“How big is it?” Trapper asked. “A tiny little tat doesn’t count.”

“When it’s my tat, I decide what counts. You don’t get any input, remember?”

The back-and-forth went on, with Babe giving as good as she got, though her comments were interspersed with gasps and ouches and a few breaths sucked between clenched teeth.

“You’re doing good,” Hilda said encouragingly. “You’re not bleeding much at all, and that’s good for the longevity of the ink.”

“Yay, me.” She sounded disgruntled with the whole process now.

Levi crossed his arms and tried not to think about her with her shirt off—or maybe she was getting the tat on her hip and her pants were off. He thought how he’d like to be holding her hand and teasing her. Couldn’t happen, and he had to stop this. The last thing he wanted was to get a boner right now. Instead he focused on whether or not she’d been able to get any useful intel with the drone, then whether or not he could try to wrangle a flight out to his own parents’ home in Arizona, and damn if the desert heat wouldn’t feel welcome. He always waited until the last minute in case anything came up, but given that they’d just got back from a mission—uneventful as it had been—something really big would have to happen for them to be called up. The team that was the most rested would go.

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