Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
It had taken me a long time to come up with something that held meaning and showed Remo what he meant to me. Early in the morning, after another sleepless night with the twins, I approached Nino who was swimming his usual laps in the pool. Kiara was keeping watch over the babies since they were both rather needy at the moment due to their teething.
Nino noticed me standing beside the pool and swam toward the edge. “Is something the matter?”
“I have a favor to ask of you.”
Nino hoisted himself out of the water. My eyes scanned the myriad of tattoos on his upper body and thighs. Nino regarded me curiously, and I realized I’d been staring. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to gawk, but I was wondering where you’ve had your tattoos done.”
Nino walked over to the lounge chair and picked up his towel. “Some of them I did myself. The ones in places I can’t reach I had done in a tattoo studio not too far away.”
“You do tattoos?”
“I can do them, yes,” he said. “Why?”
I hesitated. “Because I want to get a tattoo. Can you do it for me?”
“That depends what exactly you want.”
“I want angel wings on the back of my neck,” I said, a flush spreading on my cheeks under Nino’s scrutiny. I wasn’t sure if he knew Remo’s nickname for me, but it felt like something personal I was sharing.
“Wings, I can do ... if you have a design in mind. Can you show me where exactly you want the tattoo?”
He came up to me and I pushed my hair to the side, baring the nape of my neck and touching the spot. “Here.”
“It will be painful,” Nino warned.
I sent him a look. “I gave birth to twins. I think I can handle a needle.”
Nino inclined his head. “That is true. While I can’t assess the force of labor pain since I’ve never experienced it, I assume it’s excruciating.”
“It is,” I said. “So you will do it?”
“If it’s your wish, then yes. When?”
“As soon as possible. The tattoo is Remo’s birthday present.”
Again Nino gave me a mildly curious look. “We can do it later in the afternoon. I can set up everything in one of the guestrooms.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Thank me once it’s done and you’re happy with the outcome.” He paused. “I assume you don’t want Remo to find out for now.”
I nodded. “If possible.”
“It’s a secret I don’t mind keeping from my brother.”
As promised, Nino had set up everything in a guest bedroom in his wing. I was nervous despite my best intentions not to be.
Nino oozed calm as I stretched out on my stomach on the bed. He disinfected my neck before he touched the tattoo needle to the skin, and I winced at the first sting. I soon got used to the burning sensation. Nino moved quickly, meticulously, and I didn’t speak as he worked, not wanting to distract him. When he was finally done, I sat up and accepted the mirror Nino held out to me. He held a second mirror behind my neck.
The outcome was more stunning than I could have ever imagined. I didn’t know it was possible to paint such intricate artwork with a needle. The feathers of the wings looked so real I expected them to flutter in the wind.
“It’s beautiful,” I admitted.
Nino nodded. “Remo will appreciate the message.”
“You know that he calls me Angel?”
“I overheard him saying it, yes, and you are the counterpart to his fallen angel on his back.”
“Did you tattoo it as well?”
“I did,” Nino murmured.
“Why the broken, singed wings? The fallen angel is kneeling, and the tips of the feathers are crooked and burning.”
Nino regarded me closely. “What did Remo tell you about our past?”
“He told me your mother tried to kill you and that you almost burned to death.”
Nino’s face tightened and he nodded. “Remo burned to save us. I never asked Remo about the details why he wanted to get the tattoo, but I think it has something to do with that day.”
“Thank you, Nino.”
Nino gave a small shake of his head. “No, thank you.”
Hiding my tattoo from Remo proved difficult. I had it covered with my hair, but when I moved my head, I often had to stop myself from wincing.
That evening, after bringing the twins to bed, Remo pulled me against him in our bedroom, his hands squeezing my butt before they moved higher. He kissed me and touched my neck. I drew back with a wince before I could stop myself. His eyes narrowed.
“What’s wrong?”
I considered making up something, but Remo was too good at detecting lies, and his birthday was only two more hours away. “This was supposed to be your birthday present,” I said softly as I lifted my hair and turned so he could see my neck.