Page 4 of Tempting the Tender Guy: Imperfect Heroes

Being desperate, the next tattoo I had him do was low on my inner hip. Low as in, I made sure I was waxed before going in for that appointment. He was strictly professional the entire time! Talk about disappointment.

His lack of sexual interest was a crushing blow that I didn’t take well at all. I pouted and even debated going to another artist for my next tattoo. In the end, Mack was simply too amazing to give up just because my ego took a hit.

Almost like he sensed my previous disappointment, he gave me an amazing discount the next time I booked him. He also was super flexible about fitting me in, which I appreciated. So while it was a bitter pill to choke down that the guy I thought was perfect for me had zero interest, life went on.

A text pops up on my screen, bringing my attention back to my phone.

YVONNE: Thursday at five. Date with Malcolm at the Briar Park Animal Sanctuary.

Know that whole my mouth falls open bit? Yeah, that’s currently me.

She must have called her Nana right after we had lunch and boom! Now I have a date with my hopeful soul mate. At an animal sanctuary, though? That seems odd.

I push that to the side. The location doesn’t matter. What matters is I have a date! With Malcolm.

Silently I repeat his name trying to get a feel for it.

Sadie and Malcolm. Malcolm and Sadie. Ehhh... not terrible.

What is bad is that I’m scheduled to work until ten on Thursday. Rapidly, I go through my contact list and bug a few coworkers to see if anyone can cover for me. I’m not in love with my job, but I do like being able to eat and pay my bills and I don’t see my manager Doug being too happy with me if I call off twice in a week.

Thankfully, one of my coworkers gets back to me that he can cover for me. Yes!

Now all that’s left is to figure out what I’m going to wear.

CHAPTER TWO

MACK

The design is coming together nicely. I’d been willing to do an eight-hour session to knock this out, but my client’s pain tolerance is low. We’re booked for two hours today, and I think that’s even pushing things as I watch him wince and grit his teeth as sweat beads on his face.

“Need a break?” I offer.

He shakes his head, sending droplets of sweat flying. “Nah, man, I’m good.”

Hey, if he’s willing to power on, so am I.

The steady vibration of the tattoo machine is as familiar to me as is breathing. I fall back into my work, watching my client’s vision come to life one drop of ink at a time. It’s a spiderweb, a pretty common tat, but with a great twist. He wants his kids as spiders and his soon to be ex as a black widow. It’s taking a grim divorce and turning it into healing through ink.

Something I’m all about. I love that aspect of my job, being able to help people deal with some really heavy things. Child loss hits me hard, and I have to pace those memorial tattoos. It’s not something I can handle on a weekly basis. This job brings me so much satisfaction, yet it’s also physically and sometimes mentally draining.

Repeat clients become so much more. A lot of the time they become friends, and it gets personal going through thesejourneys with them. It’s something that you don’t think about when you first consider becoming a tattoo artist.

At least for me, I didn’t.

Caught up in the idea of taking my passion for art and earning a living from it, I didn’t take into account the personal connection. It was only during my apprenticeship that I saw the real side of things.

Then again, what fresh out-of-school kid fully understands what they’re getting into when they pursue a career?

A harsh, shuddering exhale leaves my client. He’s done whether he will admit it or not.

Realizing I’ve stopped, he looks at me before glancing down at his arm. “Damn, this looks good!” he exclaims with a grin, all his discomfort forgotten.

“Good place to stop for today, don’t you think?” I say, giving him the perfect out.

“Shading and color next time?”

I highly doubt he’ll make it through the shading in one session. I keep that to myself, though. “Sure thing. Everything look good?”

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