Page 10 of Screwed
“I sure did.”
“Thank you.” She opened the bag. “Did you buy enough for two?”
“Yep.” He grinned and slid onto a stool. “You think I’d let you eat chicken and biscuits from Mama Maybelle’s without me?”
She smiled and passed him a container of food. “Let me get you a plate and a knife and fork.”
“Nah.” He waved a hand. She’d probably be setting the table with fine china and fresh flowers if he let her. “This is good. Sit. Eat. How’s the head?”
“Not bad, actually. I can handle my liquor.”
He burst out laughing. “Yeah, right.”
She narrowed her eyes at him as she popped a piece of biscuit into her mouth. “What?”
“You were hammered last night. You can’t hold your liquor.”
“You don’t know how much I had to drink.”
“True.” He grinned. “The ibuprofen I made you take last night might have something to do with how you’re feeling this morning.”
Her slender eyebrows drew together. “You made me take ibuprofen?”
“And my point is made.”
Her pretty lips pursed. “Shut up.”
He laughed and toasted her with his own cup of sweet tea. “Anyway. I’m sorry you weren’t having more fun last night.”
Her gaze dropped to the food in front of her. “I was having fun. Sort of.”
“Do you remember talking about getting a tattoo?”
“Of course I do.” She lifted her head. “I’m going to do that this afternoon.”
He choked on his tea. “Oh no, you’re not.”
“I was serious! I did the design myself. I just don’t know where to go.” She sank her teeth briefly into her bottom lip.
“What design?”
She reached for her phone, which was plugged in, charging on the counter behind her. After a few swipes of her finger, she held up the phone, screen toward him. He couldn’t see the picture from across the island, so he moved around closer and peered at the phone. “Huh.”
The image was a delicate flower outlined in black, with elegant flourishes.
“It’s a lotus blossom.” She made the image bigger with thumb and forefinger. “It symbolizes going through a struggle and emerging stronger.When the lotus first begins to sprout, it’s still underwater, in muck and dirt and surrounded by fish and bugs. But it pushes through those obstacles and frees itself from those ugly conditions, and then it blossoms and slowly opens in the sun.”
He stared intently at the phone, his body rigid.Fuck. Hearing her compare her struggles to that, and talk about being free and blossoming, made his gut ache. Finally he nodded. “I like it. Very appropriate.” He was afraid to ask where she was going to put the tattoo.
“I’m thinking of getting it under my left boob.”
His esophagus constricted. He tried to swallow and wheeze in a breath. “Ungh.”
“Or maybe on my ribs.”
“You’re serious.”
“That’s what I said. I saw a tattoo place downtown.”
