I walked over to the door and shut off the OPEN light-up sign, then locked the door.

  “Go ahead and sit down.”

  I didn’t even know how big his original tattoo was, or how long the cover-up would take, but there was no way I’d let someone interrupt. I’d savor every second of my time with Brady today.

  “By the way,” I said, glancing at Kiara at the back table. “Does she need anything else? Water, a snack?”

  Brady’s eyes gleamed with warmth. “Nah, she’s enjoying her arts and crafts right now. She’ll tell me if she wants something. Thanks, though. I appreciate it.”

  “Don’t mention it.” I smiled. “It’s not often I get kids in the studio. I actually wish people would bring them more.”

  “Even if they run around screaming and distract you?”

  “I don’t get distracted from my work,” I promised. “Once I’m focused, the tattoo is all I think about. There could be thirty screaming kids in the background for all I care.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed,” Brady said, eyes wide. “I can barely handle one.”

  I chuckled. “Oh, come on. Kiara doesn’t seem like the type to throw a tantrum.”

  “You’re right.” Brady turned around in the chair and glanced fondly at his daughter across the studio. “I like to think she’s pretty well-behaved for the child of a recently single parent.”

  That caught my attention.

  “Is that right?” I said, trying to sound neutral. Human children didn’t manifest out of thin air, so I figured there was an alpha involved in Brady’s life at one point. I was secretly pleased to find out he was single now. But the split and wounds related to it sounded fresh.

  Brady sighed, leaning back in the seat as if a weight pushed on his chest. “Yeah. It happened a couple weeks ago.” He paused as if wanting to say more, but Brady seemed reluctant to spill the whole story. Instead, he reached cautiously for the end of his sleeve. “Anyway, want to see the damage?”

  I gave him a solemn nod.

  With a breath to steel his nerves, Brady yanked up the sleeve to reveal the tattoo underneath.

  As with any client wanting a cover-up, I kept my expression mild. Some people were eager to laugh at their past mistakes, but others were so embarrassed that they’d rather pretend the tattoo didn’t exist until it was replaced. Brady seemed like the latter.

  But it required all my willpower not to flinch at the sight of that gods-awful tattoo.

  It was a bright red cartoon heart with a single name in the center: Corey. The linework was abysmal. The curved lines were lumpy, while the script’s straight lines looked like they were done during an earthquake. The heart’s coloring was blotchy and uneven.

  To get a closer look, I took Brady’s forearm in my hands and leaned in. I ran my thumb across the tattoo, seeing how the skin responded to my touch. As I went over the red ink, I noticed scarring. The so-called artist had piled in the pigment way too hard. It angered me that some hack did this to Brady.

  “You’ve got some scarring here,” I commented quietly, pressing into it with my thumb.

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Brady said, sounding defeated. “I can’t say the guy was exactly gentle with me.”

  A roar of anger simmered in my throat, but I quashed it. Letting my feelings get the best of me and transforming into a legendary beast in front of Brady right now wasn’t the play.

  Years of practice kept me calm. “Whoever your ‘artist’ was packed in the pigment too hard. And clearly rushed over such a big area.”

  As I examined him, I managed to look past the tattoo and focus on the softness of Brady’s skin. It was supple and smooth.

  Brady went still, though I heard the skip of his breathing. Did he enjoy being touched this way?

  I moved on from the abominable coloring job. Now I looked at the script. It was impossible not to notice the name. It was a neon sign that ignited my alpha instincts. I didn’t even want to say the name out loud. Whatever happened between him and my Brady, it was in the past. It was time to move forward.

  “So?” Brady asked hesitantly. “Can you cover it up?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  Brady let out a long, loud sigh. His shoulders slumped in relief like the pressing weight was no longer on him. “Oh, thank god! You have no idea how stressed I was over this stupid thing. Nobody could see me, and I thought I’d have to cover it with a shirt all summer long.”

  As he spoke, his voice cracked slightly. It was deeply important to him for this old tattoo to disappear.

  “Sorry,” Brady said with a weak laugh. “Didn’t mean to get so dramatic about it.”

  I put my hand over the ugly job, shielding it from sight, then gave him a serious look. “It’s all right, Brady. This is my job. I know the significance tattoos can hold.”

  Brady blinked at me with wet eyes. He sniffled and nodded, looking calmer. “Yeah. Thanks.” He blew out a breath and relaxed into the chair. “Man, how did I get so lucky?”

  I was the lucky one. Fate had brought my mate right to my doorstep.

  “Destiny’s watching out for us,” I said with a smile.

  He tilted his head curiously. “You believe in that stuff?”

  “I do.”

  Brady smiled back. “Yeah... I guess I do, too. How else can you explain this?” He gestured to his current situation with a soft laugh. “Seriously, you’re a lifesaver, TJ.”

  My heart fluttered at his compliment. He had no idea what his presence meant to me. Soon enough, he would.

  “I should thank you for choosing me. It’s an honor to be your artist. Not that you had much choice,” I added playfully.

  Brady shook his head. “No way. I’d choose you over anybody else, every single time.”

  His words took my breath away. He knew exactly what to say in order to shoot an arrow of fondness into my heart.

  I cleared my throat. “Well, this is a big tattoo, and it’s going to be an even bigger cover up. Shall we get started, Brady?”

  He beamed with excitement. “Please do!”

  Three

  Brady

  “So,” TJ said, typing on the computer at the front counter. “When was the last time you ate and drank?”

  “That was breakfast, so... three hours ago?” I replied.

  “Did you drink coffee?”

  “Can’t wake up without it. Cream and sugar.”

  TJ grinned as he walked over to me, a pen and piece of paper in hand. “Good. That means I get to bring you a drink and a snack. Here, Brady. Sign this waiver for me, would you? You and Kiara—any allergies?”

  “Nope. Neither of us.”

  I took the paper as TJ disappeared into a back room. The wording was highly professional, unlike the shoddy waiver I signed the first time. I scribbled my signature just as TJ returned. In his arms were a bottle of water, an apple juice box, and a couple of peanut butter granola bars. He placed the juice and snack on Kiara’s table first, then handed me mine.

  “The peanut butter is for protein. You’ll need it,” TJ explained. “Drinking water beforehand keeps you hydrated and lessens the pain.”

  I was shocked by his generosity. Even in the last few months of my pregnancy, Corey never lifted a finger to keep me comfortable. I remembered hobbling to the fridge to feed myself while heavily pregnant with his child. TJ would never make me do that.

  “Man, you really think of everything,” I said. “Thanks.”

  TJ nodded, smiling. As I ate my snack, he returned to sit on the stool next to me with a portable drawing tablet in hand.

  “Let’s get down to business,” TJ said, electronic pen at the ready. “Any ideas for what you’d like your cover-up to be?”

  Glancing at my old tattoo, I imagined various designs. “I have some ideas, but I don’t know how feasible they are.”

  TJ’s black eyes sparkled. “I’m good at what I do, Brady. Anything’s feasible.”

  I found his confidence sexy, but now wasn’t the time to be turned on by my mysterious, attractive tattoo artist.

  “This is probably so cheesy,” I admitted.

  “Bring on the cheese.”

  “I was thinking... since most of the old tattoo is red, we could keep that color. But better, obviously.”

  TJ grinned. “Obviously.”

  I looked over at Kiara, who busily colored her paper with TJ’s variety of markers. Then I glanced back at TJ.

  “April is Kiara’s birth month, and Gerbera daisies are the official birth month flower for April. So I imagined a big red Gerbera daisy...” I blushed. “Is that super corny or what?”

  “I love it,” TJ said, his voice genuine.

  I laughed sheepishly. “I know it’s not very original. I bet people ask for flower tattoos all the time.”

  But TJ just gave me a warm, sunny smile. “Originality is overrated. Do what makes you happy, Brady.”

  My heart skipped a beat. How did this man I’d known for an hour make me feel so good inside?

  First, TJ took a photo of my current tattoo with his tablet, lowered its opacity, then he drew on top of it digitally.

  “Let’s figure out the design together,” he suggested. “If at any point you want to change something, let me know.”

  I peered over to watch him work. In no time at all, he’d drawn a beautiful outline of a Gerbera daisy.

  “Whoa,” I murmured. “You’re so fast! And your lines are amazing.”

  “Lots of practice.” After a few minutes, he showed me the full screen. “How do you feel about this?”

  A beautifully stylized flower was drawn on top of the old abomination. The center of the daisy covered up my ex’s name, and the surrounding petals swallowed up the heart’s shabby linework.

  “That’s incredible. That’s exactly what I wanted!” I cried.

  TJ lit up with joy. “Perfect. As long as you like it, I’m happy.”

  Warm feelings stirred in my chest, like a field of blooming flowers on a spring day. Everything TJ said was so kind and thoughtful. He was the complete opposite of my ex. Why couldn’t I have met him instead?

  But I had Kiara, and I wouldn’t give her up for anything. I didn’t want to dwell on the past. Instead, I looked forward to the future. That was what this cover-up tattoo represented. Rather than looking down at my arm and seeing my ex’s name, I’d think of my beautiful daughter.

  “So you approve of this design?” TJ asked.

  “I love it,” I told him, nodding firmly.

  “Great. You sit tight. I’ll go print out the stencil.”

  I did as I was told, shuffling back and forth excitedly in my chair. The first time I got tattooed, I was a ball of nerves. Half of it was anxiety over the pain, and the other half was worries in the back of my mind that it wasn’t a great idea. Unfortunately, I didn’t listen at the time.

  But this experience couldn’t be further from the last. There wasn’t an anxious scrap in my body. I felt eager to begin.

  TJ returned with a thin, opaque paper. The purple outline of the daisy design was visible.

  “All right, I’m gonna need your arm for this,” TJ said.

  I offered it to him. When he took it, his grip was gentle. His skilled artist hands were careful, delicate, like he held a precious item.

  Heat rose to my cheeks. I hoped TJ didn’t notice. How embarrassing would it be if he observed my budding crush on him?

  TJ applied the stencil to my forearm. When he peeled it away, he looked it over and nodded. “Looks good. Now it has to dry for half an hour.”

  I blinked. “Wow. The process takes a while.”

  “When done well, it usually does,” TJ said wryly. Nodding to my arm, he asked, “Was there even a stencil placed on you for that?”

  I grimaced. “No. The guy free-styled, I guess.”

  TJ looked physically pained. “This is why so many tattoo artists get a bad reputation...” He sighed. “I’m sorry your precious experience was so poor.”

  I shrugged. “Same. But hey, it led me here today, so it’s not all terrible.”

  It was nice to hear him say that. Maybe deep down, part of him recognized our chance meeting today as fate, too.

  A sudden crash sounded behind us.

  I whipped around. “Kiara, are you okay?”

  My daughter stood over the box of markers she’d spilled. “Oops...”

  Without hesitation, TJ rushed over with a big smile. “No biggie. Let’s get these cleaned up together, okay?”

  She nodded, clearly relieved that he wasn’t upset. They crawled on the floor side by side, collecting the markers and putting them back in the box. The sight of them together filled me with an odd burst of love. It was almost like TJ was Kiara’s dad.

  “All done!” Kiara announced, lifting the box over her head. As she sprang upright, the weight of the box threw her off balance and she looked like she was about to fall—but TJ saved the day by grabbing the box so she stood planted on two feet.

  “Phew, that was close,” he said, chuckling. After putting the box on the table, he peered at Kiara’s stack of scribble-covered papers. “Wow, did you draw these, Kiara?”

  Kiara was instantly exuberant. She crawled back on the chair to give TJ a tour. “Uh huh! Look. That’s Daddy, and that’s me.”

  TJ leaned over the picture intently. “These are awesome. Do you get your artistic talent from your dad?”

  She shook her head vehemently. “Nope. From my Daddy.”

  TJ glanced at me for an explanation. I pointed at myself with a smile, then frowned and gestured at the door. Miraculously, TJ understood this chaotic game of charades.

  “Ah, I see,” he said. “So Brady is your daddy, and your alpha father is your dad.”

  Kiara nodded without looking up from her drawing. “Uh huh.”

  “So your daddy is the artistic one,” TJ said, shooting me a sly grin over his shoulder.

  “Yeah! Me and Daddy draw together.” Kiara scribbled rapidly, then thrust it at TJ. “See? That’s us.”

  From where I sat, all I saw was a messy green and red pair of blobs. But TJ nodded seriously, as if appraising a fine work of art.

  “This is great, Kiara,” TJ mused while looking over the image. “Great job differentiating the heights. I can really tell this is you, and this is your daddy.”

  Kiara shuffled excitedly in her seat. “Yeah!”

  My heart melted. Kiara’s alpha dad never cared much for her art, saying they were just childish scribbles. He never took the time to nurture her creative endeavors. Sure, her doodles at six years old weren’t amazing, but they were hers. I’d rather have my daughter’s art on the wall than some famous painting.

  On the other hand, TJ actually encouraged Kiara and complimented her efforts. As I got overwhelmed with emotion, tears welled in my eyes. I quickly wiped them away. I didn’t want TJ to see me crying over something so silly.

  As the stencil on my arm dried, TJ spent a few minutes entertaining Kiara. They chatted and drew pictures together. Kiara was enraptured with this kind, tattooed man. He didn’t seem like a stranger to her, and honestly, he didn’t feel like one to me, either. I felt a strange connection with TJ... or maybe that was my sentimental nature talking. I just met him today, so it wasn’t like there was some innate bond between us, right? I would’ve blamed it on my recent break up, but I didn’t tend to seek out rebound relationships.

  So what was going on with me and TJ? Did I just develop the world’s biggest crush in the span of a couple hours? That might’ve been the case. But he was the hottest, kindest, most compassionate man I’d met in a very long time. Could anyone blame me?

  “What’s that?” Kiara asked suddenly, pointing to something on the wall.

  I turned to look. She gestured to another coat of arms, similar to the sign outside—the one I didn’t read properly. It said ‘Heraldry Ink’ and featured a single unusual creature. It possessed so many different features that I couldn’t figure out what kind of animal it was. It had four legs, a head similar to a wolf but with a distinctive horn, a mane like a horse, a thin wispy tail, and feet like an eagle. The beast stood on two legs, like most heraldic critters, and roared boldly.

  “Ah,” TJ said. “That’s a tyger.”

  “No, it’s not!” Kiara argued. “Tigers are orange and have stripes.”

  TJ chuckled. “It sounds the same, but it’s spelled differently. Like this...” He wrote it down on the paper in front of them. “Tyger is spelled with a ‘y’ instead of an ‘i.’”

  Kiara examined the words seriously. Her spelling was quite good for her age, but I wondered if she’d understand the difference. Heck, even I didn’t really get it.

  “Oh,” Kiara said. After pondering it for a full five seconds, she tilted her head. “Why?”

  TJ smiled warmly at her, like he was pleased at her curiosity. “Back in the old days when there were no books or internet, people couldn’t look up information. A lot of the time, they had to guess what certain animals looked like from descriptions of them. So somebody tried drawing a tiger—the orange cat with stripes—and it ended up looking like this.” He gestured to the unusual creature on the wall.

  Kiara cackled. “That’s not a tiger!”

  “You’re right. Pretty different, huh?” TJ leaned in and whispered in a conspiratorial voice. “But you know what? I think tygers like that kind are real.”

  “Hmm... I never saw one,” Kiara said thoughtfully.

  TJ nodded. “I’ve never seen an elephant in real life, and I know they’re real.”

  Kiara considered this. She apparently thought it made sense because she nodded firmly. “Yeah!”

  I laughed quietly at their conversation. I didn’t mind that TJ told Kiara a made-up story. Parents always told their kids tales about Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. I supposed heraldic tygers were no different.

  “I’m gonna draw now,” Kiara announced, grabbing a fistful of markers.

  “Good timing. I should go draw on your daddy now,” TJ said, making Kiara giggle.

  TJ walked over with a smile. “Ready, Brady?”

  I took a breath and stretched out my arm on the chair’s surface. “Ready.”