DAISY

“You can’t be serious?” I stare open mouthed at the black shop front; an intricate Asian design of dragons and roses etched onto the store window. “You want us to get tattoos?” I tuck my hands into the pockets of my jacket to ward off the evening chill as I stand, gawking at the store.

Sally nudges my shoulder and giggles. “It’s the year of trying new things, remember?”

Instead of making the typical New Year’s resolution of joining a gym, eating healthy, and losing a few pounds—we knew we’d never stick to—we decided that each month, we’d take turns picking something we’ve never done before.

“But a tattoo? When we agreed to the ‘year of trying new things’, I thought you meant things like taking a pottery class or Zumba.” A wave of dizziness makes me a little unsteady on my feet. It’s either from the shock of what my best friend wants us to do or the three glasses of Pinot Noir I had with dinner, followed by two cosmopolitan cocktails.

“Hey, you okay?” Sally holds onto my arm.

“Yes. I’m not used to drinking so much. It’s gone to my head.”

“You decided you needed a cosmopolitan. Having to tell your father you’ve broken up with another man he’s set you up with and deemed ‘husband material’ would make you turn to drink.” Sally pulls a sympathetic expression. “Out of ten, how disappointed will Pastor Jude be?”

I sigh. “One hundred.” He’ll ask me a dozen questions about why it didn’t work. Why I’m so fussy. Because the men he sets me up with are gentlemen and kind. Most times they’re nice.”

“Just nice?” The wind blows a strand of her auburn hair onto Sally’s face, and she tucks it behind her ear. My best friend is tall and slender with clear blue eyes. And attracts male attention wherever she goes. She’s also bubbly, kind, adventurous. “You want more than ‘just nice’.”

Sally and I have been friends since we were ten, when her parents joined the church. I’d been shy and introverted. Sally, loud and extroverted. Somehow, we clicked over morning tea after church service, and we’ve been best friends—more like sisters—ever since. We went to the same high school and talked about moving in together as soon as we were old enough. For the past two years, we’ve been roommates.

I blow out a breath. “I know. How do I tell him?” How do I tell my pastor father I want a man who makes me breathless? A man who, when we touch, sparks fly. Maybe I watch too many romantic movies. Real life doesn’t happen that way. Sparks need to grow over time. Sally shrugs, giving me no advice. “How about we find some kind of museum to visit instead of getting a tattoo,” I suggest, the words coming out in a bit of a slur.

Sally scoffs. “We can do that when we’re old. Getting a tattoo is exciting, and it’s my turn to pick. Your paint by numbers class last month was a little lame.”

“Hey,” I gasp, offended. “You said you liked it.”

“I lied.” She smiles with no remorse on her face.

I roll my eyes. “Well, I enjoyed it.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to live a little. Come on, Daisy, be adventurous—spontaneous. You only live once.”

People bustle around us, and I glance at my surroundings, wondering if I can make a quick getaway. All stores are closed except for the tattoo shop, liquor store and a seedy-looking nightclub. There’s not a cab on the street. “Yes, and I’ll be branded like cattle.”

Sally huffs, and her shoulders drop. “Don’t be so dramatic. You can get something small and cute.”

I gnaw my bottom lip. “A tattoo is so… so… permanent.” A chilly breeze blows through my blouse, and I pull my coat closed.

“Then you better choose one you love.”

“My dad will kill me.”

Sally drops her hands on her hips. “You are twenty-six years old. A grown woman who can make her own decisions.”

“Yes, but he’s so against them.” Growing up with a pastor as a father, I wasn’t allowed to be like other kids my age. I missed out on going to house parties, hanging out on Sundays with friends, or going to the movies. Deep down, I sometimes resented doing what my father expected. But I hated the thought of disappointing him. What if I’d pushed him too far? Would he have abandoned me? I had already lost my mother at a young age. Would I have lost him too? “Like he always loved to say, what would the congregation think of their pastor’s daughter running wild?” As much as I love my dad, his lectures got tiring. Yet they are still embedded in my brain. I let him because I hate to disappoint him. I know his strict tendencies had more to do with something happening to me. After my mother died when I was six years old, I’m all he has, and he’s all I have. So, I never became the rebellious teenager.

“Then put it somewhere he’ll never see.” She wiggles her eyebrows and grins. “I’ve seen some great side boob tattoos.”

My stomach drops at the thought. Can I really do something so wild? It would feel great to do something a little out of my comfort zone. I’ve never rebelled before—not that I can call getting a tattoo at twenty-six rebelling. But what a thrill it would be to do something that feels a little scandalous.

“If you hate it, you can always have it lazered off,” Sally suggests.

Lazered off? That sounds painful. Shaking my head, I say, “Pick another activity. This isn’t for me.” Before Sally insists and convinces me to change my mind, I spin on my heels, determined to get as far away from the shop as possible. At the sudden movement, my vision blurs, making me dizzy. Reaching out to stabilize myself, I crash into something dark and solid. The force knocks the air from my lungs, and the impact causes me to stumble backward. My arms flail, and before I can fall, two hands land firmly on my waist, steadying me. Catching my breath, I stutter, “I’m sorry… I was just… I didn’t see you.” I tilt my head back and glance into the most intense steel-gray eyes I’ve ever seen, surrounded by thick black lashes.

Taking in his hard features and strong jawline covered in black stubble, it’s like getting hit by a bolt of lightning. Heat zaps into my chest. When I thought I wanted to feel sparks, did I just manifest it into my life? Surely this isn’t how it works.

The man towers over me. Which isn’t hard since I’m only five foot two. He has to be way over six foot. His broad shoulders are covered with a tight-fitted black dress shirt that hugs the impressive muscles on his arms and across his chest. The top two buttons are open, exposing his throat, where a tattoo of some kind of chain peeks out.

“No problem. If you’re steady on your feet, can I let you go?” A slight teasing tone in his deep timbre washes over me. Yes, I’m steady on my feet, and no, please don’t let me go. What is wrong with me? Has alcohol affected my brain? I have a stranger’s hands on my body, and yet I make no move to pull away. It’s not like I’ve never seen a good-looking man before. Except this man is more than good looking. Not in a typical movie star or runway model way. His features are hard. Strong. He’s got an aura of danger. Something I’ve never been drawn to. Yet, I am.

A dark eyebrow lifts, and a small smile tilts up the corners of his full, soft lips like he’s waiting for me to say something. With a jolt, I realize I haven’t answered his question as I’m enjoying his hands on my hips way too much. “Oh yes, I’m okay. You can let me go. Thank you,” I say as I step away. There’s a winter chill in the Los Angeles air tonight, yet my body is overheating like a hot summer’s day. He nods his head toward the tattoo shop. “Getting a tattoo?”

“Oh… arrhh… I was thinking about it but—”

“It looked like you were running away.”

“Yes, well…”

“Too scared?” One corner of his mouth lifted in a teasing grin.

Sally appears at my side. “Daisy’s not one for stepping out of her comfort zone.” She gives him a once-over, her gaze landing on the tattoo at his throat. “You look like a man who’s not afraid of a little ink. Maybe you can convince her.”

I turn to Sally, widen my eyes and give her a look that she’ll hopefully interpret as ‘what are you doing? Keep your mouth shut!’.

“She doesn’t look like the type to get a tatt.”

My head swings back to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous. The movement causes my head to spin again, making me wish I hadn’t had so much to drink. “I could be covered from head to toe for all you know.”

He trails his gaze up and down my body. I’m not dressed in anything sexy or revealing. Just jeans, a blouse, coat, and leather boots. But the way he’s staring at me, it’s like he has X-ray vision and is seeing me naked. A little thrill runs through me that this gorgeous man might find me attractive.  

“I doubt it. You look too prim and proper to do something so scandalous.” He says scandalous like he’s mocking me.

“Are you making fun of me?”

He gives me a faux ‘I would never’ look. “You were hesitating going into the shop. You seem like a first timer to me.”

Who is this man? How dare he make assumptions about me? He may be right, but that’s not the point. It’s rude to assume.

“I have plenty.”

“Show me,” he says with a playful, daring tone.

I swallow hard. Not because he wants proof. But by the way his eyes hood and trail over me. “I… I don’t have to show you anything. I know I have them. That’s all that matters.”

He chuckles. “If you say so.”

I tilt my chin up. “I do say so.”

“Congratulations.” A smile twitches on his face.

In the blink of an eye, he’s caused my body to heat up and annoy me at the same time.

“Are you sure you don’t want to show me? Or are they hidden somewhere more private?” I know he’s teasing, and I should ignore him, but what I can’t ignore is the way his words roll off his tongue so smoothly.

“I’m not showing you anything. And yes, they’re in places you’ll never get to see.” I hook my arm through Sally’s and tug her toward the shop. “Come on, let’s get a tattoo.” I throw the final word over my shoulder.

I march away from the annoying man and into the tattoo shop. My heart is beating so fast. Flustered, I place a hand on my chest and take a deep breath to settle it down.

“What was that about?” Sally asks, her eyes creasing with amusement.

I shake my head. “I have no idea. He annoyed me.” And at the same time, turned me on. I’m so confused. She stares at me like I’ve grown two heads and doesn’t recognize me. I don’t blame her. “Let’s get out of here,” I say before she can say anything else.

“We’re not getting a tattoo?” she asks. Now she looks as confused as I feel.

Before I can tell her that I only said I was getting one because of the man’s remarks, the door opens and he glides in from the street.

My heart kicks back up, thumping in my chest. He’s even more attractive under the bright lights of the shop, highlighting the small lines fanning around his eyes and a sprinkling of gray in the stubble of his beard. He must be mid to late thirties. Too old for me. Why would I think that? He’s not for me at all.

“Are you following me?” I ask, slightly annoyed, yet a flicker of excitement runs through me.

 “I’m here for the same thing you are.” He nods toward the counter. “There’s a book filled with pretty butterflies and roses for you to choose,” he says with a slight mocking tone.

My jaw clenches. “That’s not what I want at all,” I lie. If I were to get a tattoo, that’s exactly what I would’ve chosen.

He cocks an eyebrow like he doesn’t believe me. What is it about this man that makes me want to get a full sleeve just to prove him wrong?

A woman steps out from behind a red velvet curtain. Her straight, shiny black hair reaches her backside. She’s wearing an oversized t-shirt with an eagle graphic on it, over faded denim ripped jeans and chunky brown boots. Her arms are covered with tattoos, and I spot a small blue butterfly behind her ear. I want to turn to the man and point out that even this cool-looking woman has a butterfly tattoo.

Like he knows what I’m thinking, he says, “She makes it look badass.”

I pull a face at him. “Like I couldn’t?”

“Honestly. No.” At the bluntness of his tone, heat flares in my cheeks.

I want to think of a witty comeback that would shut him up, but I’m not a quick thinker, so my mouth only opens and closes with no words coming out.

“You’re back again so soon?” the woman says, smiling at him.

“What can I say?” he replies with a small grin. “I love your work.”

“Good answer. You know I’m the best,” she says with a playful tone as she pokes his shoulder with her finger. Then she glances mine and Sally’s way. “What can I do for you, ladies?”

“We want to get a tattoo,” Sally answers quickly, like she thinks I’m going to change my mind. I desperately want to run out, yet the dare shining from the man’s eyes keeps me from leaving.

“Do you have any idea what you’d like?” She glances between Sally and I.

“I’d like a dragonfly,” Sally says confidently. She must have already given it some thought.

I nibble on my bottom lip. “I’m not sure. Can I have a look at some options?” If I waste time looking at designs, hopefully he’ll go in first, and I can get the hell out of here. I’ll never see him again, so, I don’t have to prove anything.

“Sure. We have books on the counter.” She points to the one I’d already spotted.

“I thought you were at the charity event tonight. It’s amazing how you’re raising money for children and young people healing from trauma. I sent a donation,” the tattoo artist says to the man.

“It’s tomorrow night. And thank you for your donation. Every dollar counts.”

“No. problem. How’s the foundation going?” She picks up a book from a shelf behind her and rests it next to the one on the counter. “These have some cool designs in them,” she says.

“It’s early days yet, but we’ve raised enough money to get dozens of kids into therapy. It’s amazing the difference it’s already making.” I hear pride in his voice.

“That’s wonderful.”

I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but with them standing so close, I can’t help but overhear their conversation. So, he’s good looking and has a good heart. He’s not just a jerk.

At the counter, my hands tremble as I open the book. Dozens of intricate designs fill the pages. While Sally is gushing enthusiastically over everything she’s looking at, I’m trying to find the smallest design in the book. Am I really going to go through with it?

“After you get your tattoo, you need to send a photo to Jeremy. You know how much he hates them.” Sally snickers.

Thank goodness that relationship is over. Enduring two months of lectures on what I should wear, what to read or watch, and basically how to live my life was two months too long. Another man my father saw fit for me to marry. The third unsuccessful match in one year. A matchmaker my father does not make. Just because they go to church every Sunday doesn’t automatically make them good husband material. One day I’d love to find the right man and get married. Even have a couple of kids. I want to do it in my own time. Not have it forced on me.

“That’s not a bad idea. He’d deserve it.”

“I’m glad you dumped him. If you didn’t do it soon, I would’ve done it for you,” she says, flicking a page in the book.

I giggle. “What better way to get revenge on your ex than having another man’s name tattooed on your body?” Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous’ voice washes over me.

Slowly, I turn, our bodies almost touching. I take a step back and press up against the counter. I tilt my face up, only to be met with those hard, steel-gray eyes again. The ones that shoot heat through my chest.

Sparks.

I should feel uncomfortable with the position I’m in. This is a stranger cramming into my personal space, yet my body practically melts into a puddle at his feet. “And what name should I get? Yours?” Of course, I’m joking.

With a deadpan expression, he says, “Yes.”

Oh! “You’re not serious, are you?”

“It’s the best revenge.” His face is so emotionless, I can’t tell if he’s joking.

“I’d be nuts to do such a thing.” He leans forward, placing a hand on the counter behind me. My pulse races at his nearness; the heat from his body is palpable.

“Why would I tattoo your name on my body? I don’t even know you. It’s a ridiculous thing to do.”

He shrugs a shoulder and pushes away. “Or it’s doing something spontaneous.” I want to feel relieved that he’s giving me some space, but is it wrong that I liked having him so close? So close I could see the flecks of silver around his pupils.

 “Have you ever done something spontaneous, even if it’s ridiculous?”

I pull my shoulders back. “Of course I have. All the time.” I turn to Sally so she can back me up and keep my lie rolling. Instead, she lifts her shoulders to her ears and pulls a face like she knows it’s not true. Then she gives me a wicked smile. I gasp. How dare my best friend not have my back? It’s like she’s taking extreme pleasure in my discomfort. Just wait until we get home. I’m ending our sixteen-year friendship. We both know that would never happen. I love her too much. I can still stop talking to her for a day though.

“Hmm-mmm,” he murmurs like he doesn’t believe me. “What’s something spontaneous you’ve done in the past year?”

“I don’t need to tell you anything.” I snap. Narrowing my eyes at him, I cross my arms over my chest. Because I can’t think of anything exciting to even lie about. This man is infuriating and grinding on my last nerve.

“So, nothing then.” He laughs mockingly. “Good luck getting your cutesy butterfly tattoo. That’s if you’re not too chicken.”

Anger boils under my skin. He turns to walk away. “Stop!” I place my hand on his arm. Muscles flex under my palm. He’s so hard and big, and I have to stop myself from caressing the length of it. He turns and glances at where I’m touching. When he looks back at me, heat smoulders in his eyes.

I swallow hard. He’s the complete opposite of my type and a lot older. Yet I can’t help but notice how gorgeous he is. I drop my hand. “If I do it, then you have to do it too.” Now it’s my turn to challenge him. See how he likes it.

“Sure. No problem.” He shrugs, like it’s no big deal to have a stranger’s name tattooed somewhere on their body.

That was easy. I was hoping he was all talk, and he’d drop this wacky idea. “What’s your name? If it’s something long, the deal is off.”

He pauses for a moment. My heart races. Then he says, “It’s Kade.”

 “Really?” Did he pause because he was making one up?

His face hardens. “It’s the one given to me.”

 “You’re going to get a tattoo too?” I confirm, or am I stalling?

“That’s why I’m here. Are you sure you’re going to get one?” he taunts.

“That’s why I’m here,” I mimic. I suck in a deep breath. Right. This is it. I’m getting my first tattoo. A man’s name, who I don’t know, will soon be branded on my skin. And mine on his. The night has turned wild. “My name is Daisy.”

“Good to know.”

Oh God, this is happening. “Where do you suggest I put it?”

He trails a finger along the side of my torso next to my breast. I suck in a breath, and my nipples harden. If I thought the way he looked at me zapped me with lightning, his light touch is like an explosion of fireworks.

Our eyes lock. “Right here.”

My chest heaves as his finger lingers.

“Who’s going first?” the woman interrupts, and for a moment, I forgot we weren’t the only people in the room.

“Ladies first.” He waves his hand in the direction of the velvet curtain, where I’m assuming the work gets done.

“I don’t mind waiting.” Once he’s gone, I can make a run for it like the chicken he accused me of being.

“I insist.” He takes a seat on a sofa, rests his ankle on his opposite knee, and relaxes back like he has all the time in the world. “Good luck. Hope it doesn’t hurt too much.”

“It hurts?” I wheeze.

“Only a little.”

I never thought about the pain. “He’s trying to scare you.” Sally clasps my wrist and drags me through the curtain and into the room.

And it worked.

I glance around at the orange painted walls with band posters in vintage frames hanging on them. A Persian rug covers the floor, with a large black leather chair on top, next to a table holding pots of ink and a large looking needle. Suddenly, the alcohol gurgles in my gut.

“What was happening out there?” Sally asks with excitement. “If you had a few extra minutes, I thought you were about to get fucked on top of the counter.”

“Shhh.” I cup my hand over Sally’s mouth. Even though the tattoo artist is busy setting up and appears not to be paying attention to us, it’s not the kind of conversation I want to have in front of a stranger. Also, Kade’s on the other side of the curtain; I don’t want him to overhear us.

Sally nods, and I drop my arm.

“I have to say one thing. That man is hot. Forget about getting a revenge tattoo. Go have revenge sex with him.”

I cover her mouth again. “Enough,” I say on a harsh whisper. “He might hear you. If I take my hand away, will you stop talking about this?”

She nods.

“Are you sure?”

She nods again.

I tentatively drop my hand, prepared to cover her mouth again if I need to.

“We have so much to discuss when we get home,” she whispers. Sharing an apartment means we can’t part ways at the end of the evening and avoid whatever conversation she wants to have. Even if I barricade myself in my room, she’ll find her way in.

“So, you want Kade’s name tattooed?” the woman asks. Her lips twitch with a grin.

I don’t want to. It’s more that I need to prove I’m spontaneous and not scared of a little dare. “Is he still out there?”

Sally peeks through the crack in the curtain. “Yep.”

I let out a long breath. “Then yes, I am.”

“What color, font, size and position do you want?”

“Umm… I’ll have it in black, blocked letters and as small as you can make it.”

“And where do you want it?”

The skin where he touched tingles. I point to the side of my breast. “Here, please.”

“No problem. It’ll only take a moment for me to draw it up.” She walks to the side of the room and leans over a bench to get my design ready.

My heart pounds so hard and fast it feels like it’s lodged in my throat. I glance at Sally. She’s grinning from ear to ear, looking like she’s having the best time.

Too soon, the tattoo artist is back. “Okay, let’s get started.”

I remove my jacket and blouse. Next, I unhook my bra with fumbling fingers and slide my arms out of the straps. Holding the cups over my breasts with one arm, heat creeps up my neck. I sit sideways on a chair and move my arm out of the way so she can get to my side. She cleans my side with a wipe before she places the stencil where I wanted the tattoo, then asks, “You’re still happy to have it here? Is this size and font okay?”

I glance down and swallow hard past the lump in my throat. “Yes.”

When the buzzing of the tattoo gun starts, I take a deep breath and prepare for the sting. When it touches my skin, I breathe a sigh of relief that it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Thankfully, being such a small design, it only takes a few minutes.

“All done,” she declares as she swipes a paper towel over my skin. “Take a look. I hope you like it.”

“Getting a tattoo of a stranger’s name must seem a crazy thing to do,” I say, a little embarrassed. She must think I’m a moron.

She chuckles. “I’ve seen a lot crazier tattoos in my time. This is nothing.” She pulls off her gloves and drops them in a bin next to the bench.

Still holding the bra to my chest, I make my way to a full-length mirror on the wall and check the tattoo. K.A.D.E

My stomach twists into a knot.

Sally sidles up beside me. “It looks great. Do you love it?” She claps with excitement.

Coming down from my alcohol high, my head’s pounding, and my mouth’s dry. This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. Tomorrow, I’ll Google tattoo removalists. “How can I love a stranger’s name on my skin?” I quickly put my blouse and jacket on. Hopefully, covering up his name will make me stop thinking about it.

“Let’s think up an acronym for it. We can work out what the letters stand for when we get home. It will be fun,” Sally suggests with a giggle as she takes a seat.

I watch while she gets her tattoo. Inspired by my design, she’s decided to ditch the dragonfly idea. Instead, she’s opted for her childhood dog’s name, Benji, to be placed on the back of her shoulder.

“We are two badass bitches,” she declares with a fierce expression on her face when we’re both done.

I laugh. “So bad.” Then my face screws up, and my stomach twists into a sick knot. “What have I done?” This is not me. I’m not impulsive. I’ll research sneakers for hours before committing to buying a pair, and they’re not permanently attached to my feet.

“It’s fine. After a couple of days, we’ll forget they’re there.”

“Easy for you to say. Yours is on your shoulder. You can’t physically see it without a mirror. I’ll always see mine.”

“It’s a reminder that you can be spontaneous and a little wild.”

I don’t feel spontaneous or wild. I feel queasy. That could also be the aftereffects of alcohol.

I wonder if Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous is still on the other side of the curtain. Hopefully, he’s gotten tired of waiting and left. Part of me doesn’t want to face him again—he makes me feel things that I shouldn’t feel for a stranger. And the other part wants him to be waiting so I can feel those things. Am I losing my mind?

Holding my breath, I cautiously step out from behind the curtain. I spot him immediately. His large presence is hard to miss. He’s flipping through a magazine like he hasn’t a care in the world. When his head lifts, our eyes meet, and I exhale on a shuddery breath. His stare is so intense that my body tingles from head to toe.

He tosses the magazine onto a small round table next to him. “All done?” he asks casually, like he has no idea what he’s doing to me. Like the look he just gave me didn’t just practically singe the clothes from my body.

“Yes. Still think I’m chicken?” I put a little sass in my tone and pump out my chest. There’s no way I’m going to let him know it was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done.

“I need to see proof.” His gaze zeros in on my chest.

“You want proof?” The sass is replaced by something sounding meek and tinny. To give him proof would mean I’d have to lift my blouse, and I didn’t put my bra back on. How much side boob would he see? I could tell him no. Who is he to demand proof? I know it’s there. I can still feel a slight sting and the clingfilm on my skin. But like my hands have a mind of their own, or he is some magician who can make people do things they normally wouldn’t do, I raise the side of my blouse, exposing the soft curve of my side boob.

He rises from the sofa and ambles over to me, where he bends and leans forward to get a better look. His warm breath fans over my skin. I bite my lip, waiting for him to touch me again. When he doesn’t and pulls away, I deflate with disappointment and drop my shirt.

“Nice,” he says.

Nice… Nice. That’s all he has to say? I’ve branded his name on me. He could at least show a bit more enthusiasm.

He doesn’t say anything else as he ambles toward the curtain. “Wait.” He stops and turns. “A deal is a deal. My name’s Daisy. D.A.I.S.Y,” I spell out. “Would you like me to recommend a place you can put it?” Where would I get him to place my name? Over his heart? Ha! Like he’d ever do that. Maybe on the side of his torso to match mine.  

“No.”

“Why not? It only seems fair since you suggested where I put mine.”

With an impassive look on his face, he says, “I’ll never tattoo a woman’s name on my body. Goodbye Daisy Chain. Enjoy your new tattoo.”

READ MORE HERE: DAISY CHAIN