Page 37 of Marked
“Hey, are you…”
“I think I wanna do it,” she interrupts, snapping her head in my direction.
My brows shoot up. “Yeah?”
Her amber eyes burn with determination as her lips curve into a smile. “Yeah. I don’t know why I never thought of it myself, a cover-up tattoo makes so much sense.”
I blow out a breath, shoulders slumping as the tension drains from my muscles.
Chey twists to face me, reaching across the center console to cup my jaw. “Thank you,” she whispers, leaning in to smack a kiss against my lips.
I grin as she pulls back, feeling like a million bucks.
The two of us hop out of the truck and head in, the bell above the door chiming as we enter. Ace Conway looks up from behind the computer screen at the front desk, the two of us making eye contact as I usher Chey inside.
“Hey, since when do you work here?” I ask, pleasantly surprised to see him.
“Since the squad delayed training camp,” he grumbles, popping his ear buds out. “Any word on that, by the way?”
I wince, stabbing my fingers through my hair. “Sorry, bro, it’s still up in the air. Gotta keep our focus on the hunters.”
“Yeah, I get it,” he sighs as he leans back and cracks his knuckles, shifting his gaze to Chey. “Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your new mate?” he asks with a teasing wag of his brows.
I can’t help but crack a smile as I turn to Chey. “This is Ace,” I tell her, throwing a thumb in his direction. “Ace, this is Chey.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ace rumbles, dipping his head respectfully.
“Likewise,” Chey smiles.
“So are you just working the front desk, or are you tattooing?” I ask as I turn back toward Ace.
“He’s still learning,” Cal cuts in as he steps out from curtain separating the back of the tattoo shop from the front, greeting me with a nod. “All ready whenever you are, Iver.”
“Cal, this is my mate, Chey,” I announce proudly, brushing the back of my hand against hers. She immediately picks up on my signal, curling her hand around mine and threading our fingers together.
A grin teases the corner of Cal’s mouth. “Mate, huh?” he asks, swiping a hand over his chin. “Now that you mention it, I remember hearing something about that.”
I snort a laugh, shaking my head. We both know how quickly word travels throughout the six-pack territory. Especially when an Alpha finds his fated mate.
“Nice to meet you, Chey,” Cal murmurs as he shifts his attention to her. “Are you here for ink, too, or just moral support?”
“Both,” she replies.
“Right on,” Cal remarks, gesturing for us to follow as he turns to step back through the curtain.
I toss up a wave to Ace as Chey and I follow Cal to the back of the shop, where I quickly strip off my shirt and lay down on the padded table. Within minutes, Cal is bent over my chest with his tattoo gun in hand, the gentle buzz of the machine mingling with the music playing from the stereo in the corner. Chey watches with rapt attention as he drags the needle over my skin, the sting of the silver in the ink singeing my veins.
“So do you have a design in mind?” Cal asks her, making idle conversation as he deepens the shading on my existing tattoo.
“Actually, yeah,” she replies breathily, eyes still fixated on the tattoo gun. “I saw a picture of a tattoo once, a landscape that looked like watercolor paint.”
“I’ve done a few of those,” Cal murmurs.
Chey’s amber eyes brighten with excitement. “Really?” she asks, blinking those long lashes. “Could you do a little watercolor scene of the night sky?”
“Mhmm,” Cal hums. “I’ll draw something up as soon as I’m done with this, and then we can go from there.”
She nods eagerly, shifting her attention back to the tattoo on my chest. Twenty minutes later, Cal is flicking his gun off and wiping away the excess ink, announcing that he’s all finished.
