Africa // Toto

Julia

"I have an idea."

Jessica raises one finger to make her statement. The rest of us put our glasses down and give her our attention.

"Lay it on us, honey." Jordan leans forward, pressing her forearms on the table and giving her full focus to Jess. Both Jackie and I wait patiently for Jessica to continue.

"In solidarity with our J sister, Julia, we should all get our first ink."

My jaw drops. "What? Please do not make a permanent decision just to support me right now."

Jessica reaches out to cover my hand with hers. "Julia, you are a free woman now. You can now live your best life since breaking through that barbed wire holding you back."

Jackie nods. "Also known as your ex-fucking-husband."

"Word," Jordan adds.

"And," Jessica continues, "What kind of sisters-for-life would we be if we didn't mark the occasion with something meaningful."

"Yes, I agree. With something like a toast or a mani-pedi. Not a tattoo." I'm rubbing my temples because now I'm freaking out about this uncharted path I've been shoved onto. Thanks to my ex-husband's request for a divorce, I'm a single mom. I have to get a job for the first time in forever. I share my kids with a man who doesn't respect me. And I'm all alone.

Except for these girls surrounding me now. What would I do without my J sisters? I take a look at each woman. Jessica across from me, our leader by default since the rest of us can never seem to make a decision so Jessica takes the reins. She's a tall, blonde go-getter. She never would have stayed with a guy like Dean as long as I have. I used to want to be so much like her but felt like I could never measure up.

My eyes move to Jordan, our little cheerleader. This is the girl that will call you first thing the morning after a big event to see if you need help or talk you through a problem. I thought she was psychic for a while because she always knew when I was struggling. Jordan is big things in a tiny, brunette five-foot package. On my other side is Jackie, the quiet organizer. Jessica chooses our direction and Jackie gets us there. She's the planner, the delegator of duties. The woman keeping things on track. If I lined them all up by size, Jackie and I would be smack dab in the middle.

Friends since freshman year of college. We bonded over our initials and have been the J sisters ever since. Marriages, babies, heartbreak, divorce...we've been there for each other through everything.

And now they're here for me. I never truly felt like I belonged with these women, but they've held on to me, held me up, for longer than I can even believe. I just hope I've been for them what they've been for me.

"I'm in," Jordan says. "I've always wanted to do this!" She squeals a little.

"I'll do it," Jackie lifts her glass again in a toast.

I glance at my ladies. My girls. My sisters. I think this may be the craziest thing I've ever done.

"Okay, me too."

I groan, knowing I've just made a decision that will last longer than my marriage. I actually think I'm okay with it. But I know Dean will have something to say about me getting a tattoo. Not that he has any say anymore.

"Yes! This calls for a drink." Jessica waves for the waiter.

"We have drinks." I lift my wine in a mock toast then take a healthy sip.

"No, no, no. We need the real deal here. Tequila shots, then tattoos."

The waiter takes Jess's order for a couple rounds of shots. As soon as he walks away, Jessica pulls her phone out and starts scrolling.

"Ladies, there is a tattoo parlor less than two miles from here, highly rated by its customers," she says while her eyes are cast to her phone, still scrolling. "Wow, this guy's work is amazing. I say we go simple and strong."

Jessica looks up and holds out her phone. The blue neon sign of the tattoo place, Blue Bloods, is displayed on her screen. She scrolls through some customer shots as we look on.

"Suggestions?" She asks, putting her phone away. "What is worthy of inking on our skin, ladies?" The entire table looks to me.

"I have no idea. This wasn't my plan."

"Right. We need solidarity here." Jordan snaps her fingers. "That book we all read, the fantasy with the starlight and the stones, what was that guy always saying?

"That which was lost has finally been found," I quote. I've kept that line in mind for the last year. I was lost in my marriage to Dean. But now I've been found...or at least I'm trying to find myself again.

"Ah, that's perfect, honey." Jackie takes my hand in hers. "In a sweeping script right across our hips. So hot in a bikini, am I right?"

The waiter arrives with a tray of shots, limes and salt.

"Does it have to be tequila?" I groan. I'm such a lightweight, this could be bad news.

"Relax. We already planned to Uber. Now we have a good reason for it. Plus, it's an excuse for the tattoos later." The other three J sisters grab shots, so I do too. We lick, salt, toss and suck. Twice.

Oh god, I hope I don't regret this.

***

We Ubered to the tattoo place. Blue Blood tattoo looks dark but clean. At least I think so in my buzzed state. We were met at the front by a large guy in a white tank top. Really odd tattoos peeked out of his shirt which did nothing for my confidence. All four of us were swaying and holding on to each other. But I was the only one willing to go for it. I realized after I made the decision that I really do want to have a permanent reminder of how I've come through to the other side of my worst nightmare.

My husband left me.

Now I'm the one laying back in this tattoo chair. The guy with the needle, Grinder, is bent over my exposed hip and marking my skin with the words I wrote on the dinner napkin. But I'm not thinking about how much I hate Dean for breaking my heart, or how lonely I am while my kids have time with him. I'm thinking about this silver fox whose face is inches from the promise land.

I'm dizzy but I can see this guy clearly. My mouth is dry as my eyes take him in. His peppered grey hair is pulled back on top in a knot, shaved in an undercut below. His substantial beard, which never turned me on in the past, is making me second guess every impression I've had about facial hair. On him, it is magnificent.

How is this guy so hot? He has to be in his late forties, judging by the hard edges around his eyes and the grey in his beard. But, oh my god, he is delicious. The color of green in his eyes paired with the deep tan of his skin is just...so... Those eyes only met mine when I first sat down and I'm dying for another glimpse.

"Ow." The sting of the needle takes my focus off his looks and back down to my hip.

"Tender spot," he mumbles. Even his voice is delicious. Growly and rough. I fight the urge to clench my thighs together. But I'm slipping. That control won't last too much longer. Especially after all of the shots we threw back before we showed up for these tattoos.

"Uhhhh." Suddenly the dizziness is so strong I grip the armrests on the chair.

"Need me to stop?" His growly voice vibrates through my skin. God, yes.

"No! Keep going. I won't be able to finish if you stop." Oh crap. That sounded so...dirty. The guy doesn't look up, but he does raise his eyebrow at my request. "I mean, I'll lose my nerve."

"Wouldn't want that." He continues his work, totally focused on his task. I should be grateful that he's putting all of his attention on the ink that will be a permanent part of my body. But I wouldn't mind a bit if he was having a hard time taking his eyes off of mine.

Who the hell did I become since taking those shots?

"Looks like my friends chickened out," I say, laughing awkwardly. "I must be the only crazy in the bunch."

This does bring his eyes to mine. "What's so crazy about a tattoo?" His eyebrow is up again. And I realize the guy is covered in tattoos, and inks others for a living.

Crap. "Nothing, nothing at all. Here I am getting one, right?" Awkward. And I'm dizzy again. My fingers grip the armrests in an attempt to keep my body steady. Even though I'm not actually moving.

"I'm fine. Totally fine."

"Okay."

That rough, gravel is seriously doing something to my insides. I need to take my mind off of what that sound is doing to me. "Been doing this long?"

"'Bout twenty years."

"Wow! Right here?" I never thought of tattoo artist as a long-term career path, but yeah maybe.

"Here and there."

"Ah, a traveling man. Have you seen the world?"

The guy grunts. "No."

He's awfully gruff. Gets the job done. Totally focused on his task and can't be deterred. My tipsy, slightly turned on mind takes those qualities right to the bedroom and now I'm dying to know if the skills transfer.

Holy crap. I've turned into a cougar. Or is it a MILF? I have no idea...

My eyes study the guy, Grinder, such an odd name. But no, he's definitely older than I am. Maybe by five or six years, I can't tell. But still...why do guys age so well and here I am saggy boobs and flabby arms. I need to hit the gym now that I'm single.

Ugh, I don't even want to think about trying to meet someone. It's a nightmare out there. I realized long ago that one of the reasons I was staying in my marriage was because it felt easier than starting over.

Which is a horrible reason to be married to a man who didn't love me the way I deserve to be loved.

"Almost done. Try to stay still. You don't want blurry letters."

I hadn't realized my leg had started bouncing. I would start biting my nails, but I need to keep my grip on the chair.

"Sorry," I say, feeling bad that I've been making his job harder.

"Where'd this quote come from?" He asks casually, buzzing against my skin with the needle and wiping it off the blood in a continuous rhythm.

"A book. An epic fantasy where a girl who didn't feel worthy finds her strength and saves an entire hidden world from disaster." I only identify with the first part. I've never felt worthy, but now I think that Dean had a lot to do with that.

"Fantasy. Swords and magic?" His growly voice once again vibrates my skin.

"Something like that, yeah." I close my eyes and breathe through my nose. This conversation is not taking my mind off of the way my body is responding to him.

"Last bit, now." He leans a little closer as he finishes the job. A few minutes later he sits back and turns to take care of his equipment. "All set. Come take a look." Grinder takes my hand to help me up.

He.takes.my.hand.

The flutter in my stomach is real. Even a calming breath to try to squelch them does nothing of the sort. He leads me over to a full-length mirror at the back of his stall and I can't believe what I'm looking at. In perfect script inked on my skin forever is the quote from my favorite book. And suddenly I feel that strength, the worthiness of the task in front of me. I need a sword. I need a battle to win! I'm ready to conquer.

"Wow." I whisper the exclamation so that it sounds more reverent than enthusiastic, but I mean it every sense of the word—wow.

"I'll set it and wrap it here in a second," Grinder steps away to gather what he needs. I can't take my eyes off of the new me. The bold me. The independent me. The badass that I've become. I'm in a daze as Grinder returns, adding an ointment and ice before bandaging the tender area.

"Just follow these instructions. Call if there's any problems." He hands me a paper which I take still stunned silent. I look up at him when I grab the paper. His eyes, those green as a fresh meadow eyes, shine right at mine. Then he smiles. It's crooked, just a lift on one side of his mouth, but lights up his entire face.

That's when I step closer to him, put my free hand up around the back of his neck and pull him down. The look on his face as he's bending closer is one of confusion, but I don't let that stop me. I tilt my head and pull his lips right up against mine and kiss him for all I'm worth.

And victory! He kisses me the hell back.

Julia...am I right? This scene was mentioned in inevitable the night Brax leaves Savanna and arrives at Grinder's tattoo parlor. Butch tells him about the woman who took charge of the old goat. And BTW we have taken a 27 year jump on the timeline from the Before chapter to this one. Sorry, it had to happen. Grinder is up next and holy neon sign it's good!!

I don't want to double up on the Friday Feels so we can call these updates Wednesday Wishes...or not. I need a theme, people!! Help a girl out! This book should be consistently updated every other week unless I have a writing storm happen. Send your good writing vibes!

Grinder is Zeppelin but Julia is...not. I've got all kinds of feely music set for her, haha, and Africa is the perfect opening.

https://youtu.be/DWfY9GRe7SI

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