Permanent Ink (Something to Celebrate #1) by Laura Simcox

but every time Blair popped into his head, he grinned. Like right now.
    Crystal turned her head slightly toward him. “Oh, I see how it is. What aren’t you telling me?”
    “Whatever I choose not to tell,” he said, his grin bigger. He kept his eyes on her arm, loving the organic shapes of the trees that were taking form on her biceps. “Cool choice, Crys.”
    “You did a great job designing it.”
    She didn’t comment further, and aside from the hum, silence filled the space. He knew that if she wanted to talk about it, she would. Some clients liked to keep their reasons to themselves and he understood that completely. His own tattoos were nobody’s business but his.
    “They liked to sit in the backyard on a blanket and hold hands,” she said, her voice faltering a bit.
    “Who?” But even as he asked, Ben had a pretty good idea. Crystal’s parents had been killed in a car accident about five years ago and this tattoo was probably about them.
    “There were two trees in the yard. Tall old oaks and the branches were kind of tangled together,” she said. “My folks would sit under them and that’s how I like to remember them.” A tear slipped down her cheek.
    “You need a break?” he asked, patting wells of blood from the curving branches.
    “Not from this,” she said, taking a shuddering breath. “But in all honesty, I would like something in my life besides waiting on customers. For God’s sake, I’m only thirty years old and my best buds are the breakfast regulars from the senior center.”
    Ben laughed. “I’m thirty, too. And my best bud is a senior citizen, although he’d probably wring my neck for saying that.”
    “Who?” Crystal sucked in a breath. “Okay. The pain’s getting easier.”
    “The guy who taught me to tattoo. Name is Grizz.” Ben applied another curving line. “He’s like a dad to me.”
    “Hmm. There’s a story there, Ben. I just spilled about my parents, so tell me about yours. Keep my mind focused.”
    Ben glanced toward the open office door across the room and lowered his voice. “Not much to tell. They haven’t approved of me since I decided to go to a two-year community college.”
    “What’s wrong with that?” she asked.
    He gave her a wry smile. “I’d been accepted to Harvard.”
    “No shit?” Crystal’s mouth dropped open a bit. “Why didn’t you go, idiot?” She grimaced. “I’m sorry. They couldn’t afford it, I guess.”
    Ben focused on the outline of tiny leaves. “Oh, they could afford it. They could afford to send me and ten other people at the same time,” he muttered.
    Crystal was silent for a moment. “So you’re a country-club castoff. I like you more than I did before, and that was a lot.”
    “I like you, too. You and your little brother.”
    “Brandon.” Crystal sighed. “Do me a favor, won’t you? Next time you see him, tell him you heard that the cops are after him.”
    Ben paused, the machine in midair. “Are they?”
    “No. But it will make him paranoid enough to stop and think before pulling his next stupid stunt, like sneaking a joint out by the Dumpster at the diner—in broad daylight in full view of the side street where the old ladies park for their monthly book-club meetings. We done for a sec?”
    “Yeah.” He shook his head. “That is stupid. Almost like he’s trying to get caught.” Glancing at her, he noted the set of her jaw and decided not to say a word about Brandon stopping by the week before, wanting a tattoo.
    “I’d almost be glad if he did get busted.” Crystal shifted on the chair and examined her arm. “Oh, this is going to be amazing.”
    “Wait until you see the color,” Ben said. The door to the studio creaked open, and he shaded his eyes from the bright swivel lamps surrounding the table, but all he could make out was a bulky shape. “Hey, welcome. Be right with you.”
    “You’re not fucking up that cute girl’s arm, are you?” Grizz’s gruff words boomed through the