Page 66 of So Wild

Sam laughed. “Ten years of industry experience, plus a lifetime in the studio. I know a cleanskin when I see one.”

He threw his head back and laughed, showing the lovely angles of his face. “I didn’t know people who don’t have tattoos have a name.”

“You do. Cleanskins.”

“Like no-label wine. Well there you go. Are you sincerely offering to give me my first tattoo?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that.”

“Tease.” Scott studied her expression. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

Sam packed away her notebook and pen. “Yeah, sorry. I don’t tattoo guys I’ve seen, have seen or are seeing, which as of this date, includes you. Besides, wouldn’t you be worried I’d prank you?”

“I like to think you like me enough not to write ‘kick me’ on my skin in permanent ink. Seriously, why don’t you tattoo your lovers?”

Lovers. She liked that. She liked that he wasn’t denigrating the men she’d once felt something for. “A lot of artists won’t do couples. There’s a huge chance they’ll break up and then your work will be forever associated with heartache. I’m not that strict, but aside from clients, I only tattoo platonic friends and family. Never boyfriends or anyone I’ve slept with.”

“Why?”

“Because I want…God, this is going to sound so 1969…”

“Oh, go on?”

“Because I want to be able to look at my work—a piece of my soul on their skin—and think good things about me. Something it’s pretty hard for exes to do, I’ve found.”

“Bad experience?”

“No, not mine. My dad. He and my mum covered each other in ink—hearts and flowers and poetry, all this gooshy soul mate stuff, and when she left…God this is the worst first date talk ever.”

Scott placed his hand on hers. Just put it there like it was the most natural thing in the world. “It’s fine. You don’t have to finish if you don’t want to.”

Sam looked at their hands and found she did want to finish. “When my mum left, we could hide the photos and give away her clothes and not talk about her, but dad was walking around with her art all over him. It sounds superstitious, but it felt like the tattoos kept her…tied to him in a way he might not have been otherwise.”

“And you don’t want to risk the same thing?”

“It’s not about the risk,” Sam protested. “I just don’t think you should take something as permanent as ink and use it to seal something as ephemeral as romantic love.”

“I see your point, but what if a boyfriend really wanted you to tattoo him?”

“Then I’d encourage him to find someone who works in the same styles as me and tell him to go for it.”

“Ah, but what if he wants it to be youbecauseit would be you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that one of the most important things about you is your work. I’ve seen what you can do and it’s exceptional. I’d imagine any man who fell in love with you would feel the same way, so why wouldn’t he want to carry a piece of your talent on himself?”

“Because of the whole break-up/ bad feels thing?”

“Well, what if he promised that no matter what happened, he’d look at the tattoo and remember how it felt to love you when things were going well?”

“I…” Sam racked her brain for an answer but she couldn’t mold what she was thinking into words. She just kept seeing Scott Sanderson standing in front of her, her work carved into his shoulder and chest. Hers. She felt a traitorous flush spread itself across her cheeks.

“Sam?” Scott said. “Surely you can see why your boyfriend or husband would want to be tattooed by you?”

No, the only thing she could see was him and it was making her feel fucking…weird inside. Too hot and simultaneously too cold.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, your entrees.”

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