Chapter 44
She squeezes his hand. “No, I mean real ones. How do they get them to stay on your skin forever and not wash off when you take a bath?”
“A real tattoo artist puts the color under your skin,” Brody explains. “That way it doesn’t ever come off.”
Evie frowns up at him. “How do you get something underyour skin?”
“With a needle,” Brody says. Silently, he adds, And you’re never going to want to get a real tattoo now, I bet.
As he expects, she squeals in mock fear. “A needle! No way!”
Brody nods. “Yep. It’s actually a whole bunch of needles working together to put the ink under the skin.”
“Eww!” Evie squirms away, but holds tightly to his hand. When she comes back, she runs a finger over the designs tattooed onto his forearm. “So all this was done with a bunch of needles? I bet it hurt!”
“Well, you get used to it,” Brody says.
Evie shakes her head. “I don’t think I would. I hateneedles.”
“Then don’t get a real tattoo.”
She holds out her arm to study her temporary tattoo. “But they’re so pretty. Maybe I’ll just get one. One won’t hurt too much, will it?”
“You have to wait until you’re older anyway,” Brody tells her. “Who knows? When you’re old enough, you might not even want one anymore.”
Evie assures him, “No, I want a realone. I’ll just bite down hard like this—grrr!” She demonstrates by baring her teeth and grinding them together. “And it’ll be over before I know it!”
Brody laughs. “Don’t let your mother hear you talking like that. She doesn’t need another reason not to like me.”
“What’s not to like about you?” Evie asks, though she doesn’t wait for an answer. She starts singing out some pop song at the top of her lungs, waving her arm around so everyone they pass will see it. 34
When an organizer comes around and tells Brody it’s time to close up shop, he has an extra $525 in his pocket he didn’t have the day before, and there are only a handful of framed sketches to pack up. The binders are almost empty, as well, and the vendor whose table is next to his suggested he set up an account online at Etsy to sell the rest. He doesn’t have an internet connection where he lives, but there are numerous Starbucks locations nearby, not to mention the Noodles restaurant, all of which offer free Wi-Fi, so he’s definitely going to look into that on Monday. But now he’s looking forward to a little downtime with Gavin and Evie, and once they pack up Brody’s booth into the trunk of Gavin’s car, they head out to grab a bite to eat.
Evie’s all wired up from her fun-filled day, and spends every moment in the car singing so loudly, Brody can’t make out what she’s saying. Gavin asks her twice to lower her voice, and the third time he says, “That’s it. No more singing.”
“But Daaaaaddy!” she whines. “This is my favoritesong ever!”
“I said no.” When she starts to whimper in protest, Gavin shoots her a dirty look in the rearview mirror. “Keep it up, young lady, and I won’t stop for ice cream after dinner.”
That brightens her day. “Ice cream!” she shrieks, kicking her legs against the back of the front seats. Another look from her father stills her feet.
Dinner is at a seafood restaurant on a pier overlooking the ocean. It’s a bit pricey, but it’s worth the indulgence—one whole wall is an oversized aquarium, and Evie wanders over to press her face against the glass to watch the fish. It gives Gavin and Brody a little time alone, finally. Gavin scoots over in the booth, all the way against the window, and pats the seat beside him as he gives Brody a smoldering look across the table. “Why don’t you come over and sit by me, sailor?”
With a laugh, Brody switches sides to snuggle in beside Gavin, who drapes an arm around his shoulders to hold him close. “I didn’t do too badly today, did I?” Brody asks.
Gavin kisses his cheek, then turns his face to plant another kiss on his lips. “You did wonderfully. I told you people would love your drawings.”
“I never imagined I’d make so much,” Brody admits.
“And you got how many commissions?” Gavin asks.
Mentally Brody counts the phone numbers he has written down in his sketchbook, people to follow up with next week about sketches they want him to do. “At least, what, five?”
“More like ten, I think,” Gavin corrects. “And you gave out all your cards, so who knows how many more will call you later?”
Brody grins and squeezes Gavin’s leg beneath the table. “Not bad for a guy who didn’t graduate high school, eh?”
“Listen, stop.” Gavin turns Brody’s face towards his and stares hard at his lover. When he has Brody’s full attention, he says soberly, “You. Are. Amazing. Don’t keep putting yourself down because you don’t have a goddamn diploma, high school or college or otherwise. You don’t need one. You have your art, and your mind, and me. You don’t need anything else in this world to be awesome because you already are. You hear me?”
Brody smiles. “You’re the awesome one,” he says softly. “I wouldn’t have bothered to enter this show if it hadn’t been for your encouragement. With your help, and Evie’s, you really made the day special for me. So thank you.”
Gavin touches his forehead to Brody’s and holds their gaze a moment longer, then puckers his lips to seal the moment with a tender kiss. “Thank you,” he murmurs against Brody’s lips. Then, in an intimate voice so low Brody feels the words more than hears them, Gavin whispers, “I love you.”
It’s so soft, he can ignore it if he wants, pretend he doesn’t hear it, but Brody’s been hoping for these words in Gavin’s voice for months now. He pulls back slightly, just enough to catch Gavin’s eye again, and he stares at his lover for a long, breathless moment. The color seems to have drained from the world around them—all he sees is Gavin in front of him, all he hears is Gavin’s breath and those words, echoing through him. You, you, you.For a full heartbeat, he’s unwilling to say or do anything to scare away the emotion between them, as if it’s as ephemeral as stardust or sunshine.