Chapter 6
Adam’s mouth dropped open when he saw Birdie. She had done… something. He didn’t know what she had done, but she sure had done something.
She looked incredible.
“Wow,” said Adam.
Birdie heaved a sigh of relief. He hadn’t noticed how she’d been gaping because he’d been too busy gaping at her. It was nice to feel as if they finally had a reasonably level playing field.
She wasn’t the only one with scrambled brains.
“Shall we go?” Birdie’s voice was bright and firm. Adam looked like he’d gotten a jolt to hear that, too.
Good, thought Birdie. He should get used to how she didn’t stutter and stammer and lose her train of thought.
Birdie tried not to hum with pleasure at the Corvette he was driving again. But she was thrilled to be going somewhere in it.
Without waiting for him to open the door, she hopped in and turned to smile at him. Adam looked like he’d lost his train of thought when she really turned that smile on him.
She wanted to giggle. This was going well.
Birdie thought he’d take her to a fancy restaurant. But he didn’t. He did better than that. He took her to a little family-run Italian restaurant and bakery where it looked like he was a regular.
He moved along, with Birdie in his wake, shaking hands, hugging, and exchanging greetings. Curious eyes surveyed her. Birdie wondered if he was going to introduce her to anybody.
Finally, they found themselves in front of a short, stocky woman with her hair in a huge black bun. She wore an apron and had a ladle in her hand. Birdie immediately wanted to sketch her. What a character she made!
“Birdie, this is Mama Maria. She runs this place, and if you’re lucky, she’ll make you her famous gnocchi. Mama Maria, this is Birdie. She will help me.”
Birdie found herself being appraised from head to toe and straightened her spine. She would not be cowed.
“You might do, girl. Sit. I’ll bring you food. You need fattening up. All skin and bones, no flesh.”
Birdie felt as if she’d been knighted by the queen. As she watched Mama Maria bustling about, Birdie realized that it wasn’t so far off from what had happened.
“That is almost unprecedented,” remarked Adam.
“What is?”
He sat back. “Mama Maria has a few adopted sons. Most of them were her son’s friends. Her son passed away a few years ago. We wondered if it would break her, because he was her whole world. But she’s the strongest woman I know. I’m one of her honorary sons. She has rapped my knuckles with that ladle plenty of times, and baked me sweets even more times. I’ve come to her for too many things for me to recount.”
Birdie smiled. “She seems like a remarkable woman.”
Adam leaned towards her a little. “And so are you, to get her approval so quickly. She’s one of my mother’s closest friends, too. When my mother needed help, every time, she was there. I owe her so much that I would never presume to try to repay her.”
Birdie nodded, slowly. That was a reminder that Adam hadn’t been born into wealth. He had known hardships, too.
Birdie relaxed slowly.
“I didn’t have a Mama Maria. I didn’t have anybody, really, once my grandmother died. Well, I had the tattoo studio. It’s been my home for almost a decade.”
Birdie smiled, no bitterness in her voice. It was just how things were. She didn’t resent the hand fate had dealt her. She was strong enough to deal with it.
“So, is her gnocchi as good as you say it is?”
Birdie had changed the subject deliberately. Adam noted the ‘back off’ warning, and didn’t press her. He was curious, of course. He wanted to know all about Birdie’s past. But he needed to wait till she was ready to tell him.
Adam was surprised by how much he wanted her to tell him. He wanted her to trust him with herself. He had trusted her with so much of him. It made him feel vulnerable. And, he realized, suddenly defensive.
“It’s wonderful. It’s like eating little cloud puffs. She doesn’t make it for most people, trust me.”
They were given bread and dip as they waited, and wine was poured. Adam took one sip and left it alone. Birdie approved. After one accident, he should have respect for rules against drinking and driving.
Birdie tried the wine and hummed with pleasure.
“Oh, that is so good. That could be sold for hundreds.”
Adam shrugged. “It’s from the vineyard in their home in Italy. They could sell it, as I’ve told them plenty of times. But that’s not what they want.”
Birdie smiled. It was beginning to seem like a real date. He hadn’t brought up the tattoo at all. Should she?
No, she would leave it to Adam to bring it up. If he wanted an evening free of his scars and his memories, why shouldn’t she give that to him?
Soon, he was regaling her with accounts about his childhood that made her laugh. He told her about Richard, his brother, who had been such a dreamer as a child that he had always been in trouble. Adam had always tried to help him get out of trouble, and, of course, they had both ended up getting in more trouble.
“You must’ve given your mother a lot of troubled days and nights,” remarked Birdie.
Adam winced.
“To hear her tell it, you’d think she never had a peaceful night’s sleep from the moment we were born. I don’t believe that, you know.”
Birdie shook her head.
“What about your father? Didn’t he believe in changing diapers?”
Adam looked away before he looked back at her without blinking.
“My father believes in family loyalty and duty more than changing diapers. He believes I should do my duty. We disagree, sometimes. But he’s not well now, so we disagree less than we used to. Sometimes, we have to concede defeat even when we know we don’t deserve to.”
There was something in his words that warned her not to ask more questions. Birdie felt a chill go down her spine and she heeded it.
Thankfully, they got their food and conversation turned to lighter things. It was pleasant, realized Birdie with a little jolt. It was pleasant to sit and enjoy a meal with him without worrying about what he must think.
As they had dessert – and dear Lord, it was so sinfully delicious that Birdie might have forfeited her soul for it – she leaned towards Adam.
“Adam, I had a wonderful time. But we were supposed to talk about the tattoo. I have a sketch that I think is perfect. It should be exactly what you had in mind, maybe a bit better. But you need to look at it without looking for changes and symbols. Look at it as a whole and find out how it makes you feel. I can show it to you now, or tomorrow, if you like.”
Adam took a deep breath.
“Thank you for not bringing it up until now,” he said, his voice soft.
Birdie nodded.
“It looked like you just needed a break. But the tattoo is at the center of this. I don’t want us to ignore it. Adam, impossible as it might seem now, you will come to find joy in it. I promise you that.”
Adam’s lips quirked in a little lopsided smile that made Birdie’s heart beat just a little bit faster.
“Celeste promises me that, too. But I find it difficult to fathom. Why don’t you show me the sketch, and we’ll take it from there?”
Birdie slipped her hand in her bag and paused. “Are you sure?”
Adam nodded, his face set.
She slid her sketchbook out and slid it across to him. Adam was silent, his face and eyes unreadable, as he looked at it. He looked at it for so long that Birdie started to fidget.
Finally, he looked up, and Birdie’s heart ached at the pain she saw in his eyes. She wished she could wipe it all away. She was going to do her best to do that, she reminded herself. She couldn’t do more.
“Do you think this is what I need?”
Birdie nodded. She knew that it was perfect.
Adam looked back at the sketch, colored and complete, and Birdie knew that he was focusing on the scars she had drawn. Somebody had drawn his scars, and it was difficult for him.
“It will change everything, Adam. I promise you that.”
Her soft words made him look up again. He slid the sketchbook back across to her. “I can’t think of a single change to make.”
He looked vulnerable, realized Birdie – vulnerable and scared. Suddenly, she figured out why he had dropped by to make all those changes, with all of those suggestions.
He had wanted to put off the moment when it all finally became real. He had been stalling.
Maybe part of it had been because he’d wanted to see her, too. She hoped it was. But he’d been stalling.
Birdie smiled, and it was a gentle, understanding smile. She reached across the table to cover his hands with hers, their joined hands on the sketch.
“You rose from fire, Adam. Nothing will be more difficult than that. You faced it and you defeated it. You will feel like a victor, not a victim, once we do this.”
Adam wanted to believe her. He had to.
But there was a part of him that wondered if he was expecting too much. How could a tattoo even make a dent in the pain he carried around with him?
As if she knew what he was thinking, her hands squeezed his lightly.
“I know you’re a fairly private person. I know that it feels odd to have to open so much of yourself to me.”
“No, it doesn’t,” interrupted Adam.
Birdie’s eyes widened as she waited for him to say more.
“That’s what feels odd. It doesn’t.”
Birdie felt her heart swell just a bit at his words. Nobody had ever said anything that had touched her more.
“I’m glad,” she whispered, and they were linked. They both knew it.
Adam’s mind was in a whirl. He had opened himself to her. He had told her more than he had ever told anybody else before. Perhaps even more than he had told Richard. Maybe… Maybe this could be more.
Maybe he could finally give his mother what she wanted. Maybe he could finally make his father happy. His father had never been happy with anything he did.
Birdie was no trust fund baby. His mother would like her, he knew that.
Too fast, too soon, he told himself as he made himself draw back from her. Birdie let that connection go. He had given more than he’d intended to. She could feel that, too.
“It’s getting late,” said Adam, abruptly.
Birdie, knocked a bit off-balance, nodded uncertainly. It was about eleven. Time had flown.
“When do I start my tattoo?”
Birdie’s brain scrambled. She should check her schedule, she knew, but she also knew her schedule backwards and forwards.
“Day after tomorrow, at eleven. I’ll have the stencil made and ready by then. Make sure you wear something loose and comfortable. There are instructions to be followed during the course of the tattoo, and for a while afterwards. Ideally, you need to follow instructions for the rest of your life, but that will become second nature.”
Adam nodded. He felt a creeping sense of dread, but he pushed it aside, too.
“So, everything will change and I will become your masterpiece.”
Birdie smiled. “It will take a while. It’s not like you’re getting a little red heart.”
Adam snorted at that image.
“Maybe I’ll get a little red heart, too,” he quipped.
“I’ll leave that one to Marley. He likes doing tramp stamps,” quipped Birdie.
As he drove her home, Birdie was in an agony of anticipation. Had that been a date? She felt as if it had gone well and it had been a date, but they had talked about his tattoo. What had it been, then? Would he kiss her good night? Did she want him to?
When they got to her home, he turned to her. Birdie’s heart beat faster, her lips parted, as she saw the look in his eyes.
He was going to kiss her, thought Birdie. It was a date.
But he surprised her by taking her hand and raising it to his lips, gently.
“Good night, Birdie Campbell,” he whispered, and he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.
Birdie felt the warmth of that soft kiss seeping through her body, rushing through her like little sparks. She gasped softly as she felt the warm imprint of his lips against her hand.
“Good night,” she managed to say before she snatched her hand back, opened the door, and struggled not to run. She walked inside and up without turning back.
But she couldn’t stop herself from going to the window and looking out, to be sure that he was real. As she watched, he backed up, made a U-turn, and left.
Without being completely aware of what she was doing, she raised her hand to her cheek and let it rest there. It felt almost like a kiss.
That night, Birdie slept like a baby, with no dreams.
*****
Birdie grinned at Adam. She was thrilled. She was starting her masterpiece.
Adam was sitting in the comfortable chair, reclined, and… he looked a bit pale, as if he weren’t very well.
“Adam, did you eat something that was off?”
Adam shook his head.
“Are you nervous?”
He shook his head again.
He was undressed and obviously feeling quite a bit vulnerable.
“I’m sure you’ve read up on the process, but I’ll just walk you through it first, all right? It’s your first tattoo. I promise you, it won’t be anywhere near as bad as you’re dreading right now. It’ll be really simple, really.”
Adam gave her a disbelieving look.
“Right, you’re just going to draw on me with inky needle pens! On my scars!”
Birdie bit back a smile. She knew that the first tattoo, especially over scars that already remind you of such pain, could be scary. She would have to be understanding.
“Look, I will take you through the entire process. You’ve already checked the stencil, and it’s exactly what you wanted. Right? You can change your mind about it after you have it on, and see it on yourself, too. So, don’t worry about that.”
“I’m not worried,” claimed Adam, though his voice sounded a bit like a whimper.
He was pissed off with himself for being nervous, but he couldn’t help it. It was his scar.
“Well, all right, then. First I’m going to use rubbing alcohol to wipe the entire area down. Then I will use a disposable razor to shave the area. I’ll be very careful, don’t worry. I’m used to this process, and I know how scars are bumpy. I won’t let you get nicked or anything. Then I’m going to use a little cream, and then place the stencil on. This will take a little time. I need to do it perfectly. You can see what it will look like after that’s done. Okay?”
Adam nodded. He could feel himself calming down. Her voice was gentle and soothing. She pointed out all the things she would be using, and none of it seemed all that scary now that she was explaining in that sexy voice of hers. Even the disposable gloves on her hands seemed sexy.
“Then I’ll cover the area in some ointment. This one here. It’ll seal the ink transfer better that way. Then I’ll do the outline. Today, we’ll just do the outline, and maybe a little bit of the color. But you’ll get the basic part of it today.”
Adam nodded, with a smile.
Birdie could see that his nerves were draining away, though he was still a bit wired. She found that explaining the process helped people. Once they knew what was happening…
Her brains scrambled.
She felt firm lips pressing against her mouth and she just stopped thinking, at all.
She felt those lips part, a tongue slip out and gently trace the outline of her lips. She heard a moan that sounded as if it came from the very soul, and was shocked to realize that it was from her.
Her eyes closed, slowly, and her arms seemed to go around Adam of their own volition. Her lips moved under his, parting and giving his probing tongue the access it wanted.
She became aware of his hands on the small of her back, pressing her towards him, closer to his body. Willing, pliant, she moved closer, wrapping herself around him as she kissed him. Her lips grew demanding as his demanded. Her tongue grew daring as his slipped inside her mouth and slid so gently, so sensually, along hers.
She could feel her entire body waking up as if from a long slumber. His hands were stroking her away. Her breasts were pressed against his hard, bare chest. She could feel the heat of his skin through the inadequate t-shirt that she wore.
She moaned as she kissed him as if she needed him more than her very breath.
She felt his hands moving up her side and cupping her breasts and moaned again. Her hands were on his bare back, moving over the firm muscles of his back.
As the kiss deepened, became even more passionate, her nails dug into his back gently.
She felt his hands cup her breasts and squeeze gently, touching her, finding those hard, desperate nubs of desire and stroking them into fresh desperation that made her press her body against his, even closer. She could feel his male hardness pressing into her and she gloried in the proof of his desire for her.
This man wanted her. In that moment, he was her man.
Hers.
As she thought the word, some part of her mind screamed a warning and she pulled away, panting.
Birdie opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She raised a hand and rubbed it against her swollen, almost bruised lips. Her eyes wandered to his mouth and she moaned again in need.
“Birdie,” said Adam, and the hoarseness of his voice, the need that coarsened it, made her want him even more.
“I… Adam…”
He drew back, and his lips curved in a smile.
“Do you need a minute? I think I’m not nervous anymore.”
Birdie couldn’t control her heart. It was racing.
“Did you do that because you were nervous?”
Adam shook his head. “I did that because I was on edge and you’re the sexiest, most beautiful, most alluring woman I’ve ever seen in my life. I did that because I want you. I did that because I need you.”
Birdie nearly swooned as he said the words. She wanted to leap into his arms and kiss him senseless again. She wanted to drag him up to her apartment, to her bed, and make love to him. She wanted to ride him until that incredible passion was spent, even if it took years.
She took a deep, steadying breath. At least, she thought it would be steadying.
“We need to do your stencil. I need to… I need to prepare the area,” she said, not completely sure what she was saying, to be honest.
Adam smiled.
“All right. But go out to dinner with me tomorrow.”
Birdie’s smile bloomed, slowly.
“Dinner?” she asked, a suggestive note in her voice that he could hardly have missed.
He chuckled.
“Yes, Birdie, dinner. And whatever else you might like. This time, you can pick the place, even.”
Birdie smiled.
“Maybe I will. Now, relax and lie back as I get started, all right? Next time you’re feeling edgy, give me fair warning, at least,” she teased him.
Feeling far less nervous, Adam lay back and let Birdie get on with her job. He wasn’t calm, but at least the edge wasn’t one of fear now. It was one of desire.
“You did listen to me and not take an aspirin, right?”
Her voice, even when she was asking something so practical, seemed so alluring. He could listen to her talk forever.
“No aspirin. No painkillers at all.”
“I have the magic touch. I promise it won’t hurt enough for you to need one.”
Adam chuckled, a husky sound of lust.
“Oh, I just bet you have the magic touch, Birdie,” murmured Adam.
Birdie refused to let herself be embarrassed. She focused on her work, to the exclusion of everything else.
This was her calling. This was what she did. She soon had the stencil applied, carefully, and when it was ready, she peeled it off. She checked it, from every angle and every inch of it, before she was satisfied.
“Adam, you should see if you’re happy with it. You can change your mind now, if you like. But once I start… Well, it would be pretty silly to change your mind then. Now would be the time.”
Adam got up, with difficulty, and checked himself in the mirror, from every angle. Finally, he turned to Birdie.
“I’m ready,” he told her, and it was time to begin.
He was ready, this time.