Broken Wings // Mr. Mister

Julia

"Don't let him get into your head."

The last thing Grinder said to me has been playing on repeat in my head, ironically. He was talking about the crap Dean had been saying, not about Grinder's own magnetic draw. But damn if that wasn't the result; the lean muscle and heated touch of my tattoo artist is all I can manage to think about. He's absolutely in my head.

More than my head, if I'm honest with myself.

That guy has invaded my entire body. The first place he touched, my now inked hip, zings with heat anytime his face makes an appearance in my mind, more frequently than I care to admit. What is wrong with me?

I guess it's been so long since I've felt that intense energy with a man my brain has gone haywire. Not to mention my libido.

"Mom!"

My son shouts the only word that could throw ice water on the heated sexual thoughts in my mind.

"What do you need, Eric?" I wipe my hands with a dishtowel, having been lost in thoughts while cleaning up after dinner. Eric is supposed to be finishing up his homework, but I have a feeling he's avoiding the job.

"I don't know how to do this part!" He's in his room, yelling across the house. I trudge up the stairs to where he is sprawled over his bed, papers everywhere.

"Which part?" I lean over my son as he points to a science worksheet that is only half completed. "The response to the evidence?"

"Yeah. I have no idea what to write. I didn't know yesterday in class when Mr. Wheaton did the experiment and I don't know now even though I watched the entire thing." Eric throws the pencil on the bed and flops back onto the pillows.

"Don't give up. Tell me about the experiment and then we can work backwards."

"Ugh. I hate science."

"I'm sure you do. But that doesn't get your homework done. So, talk. What was the experiment about?"

Eric starts describing the demonstration his teacher did using sand and water. They had reviewed a case study of water shortages in high desert areas. My son understood more than he realized. He was having a hard time putting his thoughts on paper.

"Buddy, you just told me the reason. The rain clouds don't rise up and over the mountain range, so the water stays on one side of the mountain and the desert remains dry on the other."

Eric stares at me, mouth dropped in thought. When his brows rise and a smile crosses his lips, I know he's got it.

"Thanks, Mom! I knew Dad was wrong about you."

As if what Eric said wasn't the bombshell it was, he drops his head to his paper and starts writing. Part of me wants to ask, but the other part of me has no desire to know. I'm frozen in place watching my son finish his homework with a knot in my gut. The not-knowing is too much to bear, so I take a deep breath and ask.

"What was Dad wrong about?"

A nervous energy fills me, sick at what I might hear, sad that Dean decided to say something negative about me to our kids when I have made it my point not to do so about him. The lack of respect for me continues even after the divorce.

"That you were too lax about expectations for us so we wouldn't have a strong future. But you aren't like that at all, Mom. You still expect us to do our best. You just don't punish us if we don't get all A's." Eric shrugs and goes back to his work. I ruffle his hair and walk out before I say anything else.

In the grand scheme of things, what Dean said wasn't that bad. He's right, I don't put pressure on my kids regarding their grades. That doesn't make me a lax parent. I debate asking Lola about the situation but ultimately decide against it. She's perpetually grumpy, which is putting it mildly, and I don't want to create a problem that isn't there.

I do, however, decide to add this to my journal. I've been keeping notes about these types of interactions with dates and comments just in case things escalate and I need some concrete examples of how Dean undermines me. Jackie suggested it after the whole tattoo confrontation, even sending me a log sheet to note time of day, location, people involved and exact quotes.

It helps having a lawyer for a best friend. She's not in family law so I couldn't have her represent me during the divorce, but she does have enough knowledge of general legalities to advise me rather than asking my lawyer to the tune of three hundred dollars an hour. I can't afford his advice over every occurrence.

Later tonight, after the kids are in bed, I'll message Jackie to see if there's anything else I should do. I can't be his doormat anymore. I let that go on too long as it is.

I'm still in my room with the door closed when my phone rings. It's not the ringtone I've set for the J sisters or the one I set for Dean. Looking at the caller ID expecting a robocall, I gasp when I see the name. Blue Bloods Tattoo.

Yes, I added it to my contacts.

I don't really want to unpack the reasons why.

Instead, I swipe to answer the call.

"Hello? This is Julia."

I don't know why I said that. My brain went right to business call mode, but I have no idea why.

"Hi. This is, uh, Rob McCray from Blue Bloods Tattoo."

"Oh, hi, Rob." Disappointment floods my heart and lungs instead of the excitement that had been there before I answered. I was really hoping it was Grinder on the call. I don't even know who this Rob is. Maybe the guy at the front desk with the dirty tank top.

"I was calling to follow up on your experience with us."

"I see."

"You...don't remember me, do you."

I pause, holding my breath and trying to remember a Rob. My eyes close. I release the breath because the only face I can picture is the one I wish I was talking to now. The face with the green eyes that I've thought of so many times in the last two weeks.

"I'm not sure." My breathless voice surprises me.

"I'm the one who...did your tattoo."

My eyes shoot open. My hand covers my racing heart.

"I thought your name was Grinder."

"Uh." He pauses. His voice is low. I hear a door close and then all background noise is gone.

"That's what they call me here, yeah. But my name is Rob."

"Rob." I like that so much better than Grinder. "Is that what you prefer?"

He mumbles something that I can't make out before responding. "It's more professional."

I nod. "I can see that. Why do they call you Grinder?" As soon as the words leave my mouth I cringe. "Never mind. That's personal, you don't have to answer that." Even though he and I have been more than personal. Barely two weeks ago I kissed him. Deeply. With tongue.

Oh Lord. I can't think about that kiss without my knees going weak. Suddenly I'm sitting on the edge of the bed.

"No, no. It's fine. A long story, though. So maybe another time."

"Okay, sure." Will there be another time? Is he going to call again? Or does he expect I'll be back for more tattoos? I'm still not sure about this one. I don't have any plans for more.

"Anyway, your experience with us. How would you rate it?"

Ah yes. The reason for his call. "I'd give it high marks. I was comfortable. You've been very encouraging and helpful."

"That would be a satisfactory?"

Why does his question hit me with a giggle? I have no idea but now I'm bent over in a fit.

Was it satisfactory? Hell yes. All I can think of is that kiss and his hands. The strong, corded muscles on his arms as he worked on my tattoo. The way he looked at me in the mirror when it was finished. The way his chest felt pressed against mine as his tongue took a taste of me.

I fan myself. Again. Every time I think of that kiss. I'm laughing and turned on, all at the same time.

"Was that a funny question?"

"No, no...just...give me a second." I take a deep breath and try to recover from the sexual hysteria. Satisfactory it was not. Hella hot more like. Exquisite. Much more than satisfactory.

"Okay, I think I can answer now."

"What's the verdict?" His voice has lost that quiet edginess. He's gone a bit cold.

"I am beyond satisfied. I'm sorry about the laughing fit. It's just that, what happened after..." Oh gosh my face must be on fire, totally red. All of the heat from my core thinking about his lips has traveled to my head. I don't know how to say this.

"Was it funny?" There's a growl in his tone. Not the one from the other day when he told me I was glowing. This growl sounds angry. I've offended him.

"I am saying this all wrong." I take a deep breath to calm all of these pent-up nerves. "Can I start over?"

Silence. I wonder if he's breathing deeply as well. This is so awkward, and I am too old to be this uncomfortable. But it's been too long since anyone made me feel like this.

"Go ahead." Rob's voice is smooth now. Calmer.

"I can't express in words the experience I had with you. I'm so grateful it was you who created this design and put it in place on my body." Chills move up my spine. "Every moment was precious. I will never forget any of it."

Do I say what I'm thinking? Should I? I close my eyes once more, needing to block out my reality. I may never see Rob, Grinder, again. I might as well throw caution to the wind and tell him what he's done to me.

"I will be honest and tell you that I'd had a couple of shots that night."

"I could tell."

I laugh. "I bet. But I wasn't so far gone that I didn't know what I was doing. I knew exactly what I wanted, and that little bit of liquid courage took away the excuses I would normally have in place."

"Excuses like what?"

I'm not sure if he thinks I'm talking about the tattoo or the kiss.

"That I'm not desirable. That I'm passed my prime. That a guy like you wouldn't want anything to do with a girl like me. But that's not why I did it."

Is there any doubt now what I am talking about?

"Why did you kiss me?"

Nope. He's right with me now.

"Because of the way you looked at me. I felt strong. Sexy. I haven't felt that way in a very long time. I'm sorry that I overstepped those professional boundaries but to be honest, Rob, I don't regret it."

Holy crap. I can't believe I said all of that. I'm now laying back on my bed. My door is still closed as are my eyes. I don't want to break this bubble of bravery that I'm in.

"I don't either." That quiet breathless voice is humming in my ear. Gone is the anger. Gone is the hesitation. Gone is the pretense of his call.

This was what he wanted to know. Did he truly satisfy me?

"You don't?"

"Not even a little bit. In fact, what are you doing this weekend?"

I open my eyes. The smile on my face is enormous. I'm going to see him again. And not as part of this tattoo business. As Rob and Julia.

"You tell me what I'm doing. I'm all yours."

***

Grinder...er, Rob, and I hung up ten minutes ago, but I can't stop smiling. And squealing a little. Not much. My stomach is flipping all over the place with nerves and excitement and anticipation.

Holy shit I have a date.

With the guy I tipsy kissed.

My hands cover my face and I stifle the scream that is dying to get out of my system. I'm a ball of energy that needs taming if I'm ever going to get some sleep tonight. I could get a workout in and settle myself. Or I could message the girls for some moral support. Working out will get me all hot and sweaty. Talking to the girls will at least get me date pointers.

Group chat it is.

Me: S.O.S. I need support to avert a potential disaster!

Jess: Oh no, did Dean open his fly trap again?

Jordan: Someone needs to put him in his place

Jackie: It's called a restraining order

Me: NO NOT DEAN

Me: Pause on your come backs and let me tell you

Silence. Hm, they actually listened for once.

Jess: We're waiting.

Sheesh.

Me: I just might have a date on Friday and I don't know what to do.

Jordan: I KNEW IT! He called! I knew he would!

Me: How did you know? I didn't even know it was him when he called. I could have used the heads up.

Jackie: We all knew he'd call after that kiss. His eyeballs were on fire. His other balls probably were, too

Jess: Hold on. Where is he taking you?

Me: Um...

Jess: You didn't ask.

It's not a question because she knows me too well. I don't ask because asking would have put him on the spot. I hate putting people in awkward situations, so I just don't say anything or ask many questions.

Jackie: Of course she didn't. This is Ms. I'm-gonna-go-along-with-what-everyone-else-wants we're talking about.

Me: Ugh! Fine I didn't ask. I told him to tell me what we were doing but he said he'd get back to me on that.

Jess: No, you text him and TELL him what's going down.

Me: I can't do that!

Jackie: Yes you can. You need to call the shots with this. Choose a place that makes you the most comfortable and tell him to meet you there.

Jess: Totally reasonable.

Jordan: Completely

Me: Where should we go? I don't know how to do this anymore!

What have I gotten myself into? I'm not sure I'm ready for this. The pressure is already getting to me. I contemplate backing out altogether. It seemed like a good idea when he brought it up.

Jordan: Tell us what he said. How did he ask?

I close my eyes, remembering the sound of his voice, deep and gruff. Sexy.

Me: I told him I didn't regret kissing him. He said he didn't either, not even a little bit and what was I doing this weekend.

After a ten second pause, I'm bombarded with emojis and gifs, all pretty much saying the same thing. They approve.

Jackie: You vixen! What a queen!

Jess: OMG YOU DIDNT??!!!

Jordan: Make that man a meal. The way to his heart and all that jazz. He probably hasn't had home cooking in a while, right?

Should I? The thought of being in my home is comforting. But what if that sends the wrong message? I'm so indecisive.

Me: I could. But you all need to back me up. Check up to make sure everything's fine.

Jackie: You got it, sister

Jordan: Anything for you, J!

Jess: J sister patrol on duty!

I think I may have just lost my mind. This is either the craziest thing I've ever done or...

Nope. It's the craziest. Hands down.

Ah, girlfriends for the win. By the way I have some fun story ideas for these ladies! Someday I want to write Fallbrook Hills: Beginnings all about Jess, Jordan and Jackie's stories. Those would be more rom com and feature fun tropes like childhood best friends to lovers, a forbidden office fling and a billionaire romance. Any guesses as to who's story would be who's? Julia's story with Dean would NOT be one of them, FYI. We already know how that one turned out. Blech!

Julia is sugar and spice and everything nice, so a sweet Mr. Mister song is just the right fit.

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