Hanging Loose Part 14

"It was an impulse buy," I added.

"How did that happen?"

"Nate's not from around here, so I took him on a drive through the canyons. We saw the FOR SALE sign and decided to check it out. We liked the house a lot but couldn't quite decide. Then we called the real estate agent, and she told us the seller was also selling the shop at the beach end of the road. Nate was convinced that was a signal we had to buy both."

"Jez always wanted a surf shop," I explained.

"Well, we're too far north of Malibu for it to be a real surf shop, but we sell a bunch of boogie boards, and I give the occasional surf lesson."

"So the shop's doing well?" Mark pressed on.

"The summer's been decent, but it's bound to slow down when the weather gets colder. We're still trying to figure out what we should stock. The shop's right on the PCH, so a bunch of tourists drop by too."

"And bikers," Janelle chirped in with a conspiratorial wink.

"Bikers?"

"Nate's been selling them tattoo designs." Jez nudged me, but I remained silent on the matter. In my opinion, he made too big of a fuss of the whole thing. However, Mark wanted to know more, so Jez launched into the explanation.

"You know how bikers like these mountain roads, especially on weekends? There's a diner about halfway between here and 101 where they stop. So, one Sunday, one of them stopped at the shop to browse. Turns out he's an architect during the week, and his daughter was getting interested in surfing. But then he saw the photo of me that Scoot's little sister, Ginny, took. We have it there as a decoration. In it I have a tattoo-looking design that Nate drew on my skin with permanent marker. The guy wanted to know who did it. Long story short, he ended up paying Nate for a custom design. Next thing we knew, other people started showing up looking for the same."

"What kind of tattoos?" Mark asked. There was a glint of more-than-polite inquiry in his eyes.

"Hang on, I'll show you." Jez bounced up from the table and into the house.

"Really, it's nothing special," I insisted.

Jez came back with the binder in which I kept copies of old designs and ideas for new ones. I tried not to look too embarra.s.sed while it was pa.s.sed around the table. Mark leafed through them with a peculiar expression.

"Can you do something sort of steampunk, but different?" he asked at last.

"Mmm..." I dug around in the cargo pockets of my pants and found a pencil. I took the binder and found a blank page. It took me a couple of moments of staring into nothing to gather inspiration. I sketched a gearwheel that was also a cross section of a sh.e.l.l, wires that turned into vines, and machine parts that mutated into feathers and wings. I showed it to Mark.

"Something like that?"

"Oh h.e.l.l, yeah!" he said.

"It's a bit like those Leonardo sketches, but with a twist," George remarked, pulling the drawing out of Mark's hands.

I blushed. "Thanks."

Mark cleared his throat. "Could you, um, make me a full design...by Tuesday? I'll pay for it, of course," he added the last part in a rush.

"You're thinking of getting tats?" I asked skeptically. Permanently marking their skin wasn't practical for actors, but then, plenty of them did it anyway. George looked at Mark with one eyebrow c.o.c.ked too.

"M-maybe," Mark replied.

"Okay, where on your body?" It was his skin, not mine.

"I was thinking half a chest."

"I should take a photo of your chest then, so I can adjust the design for it."

There was a bit of hubbub while Jez went and got his point-and-shoot, and Mark stripped his s.h.i.+rt off. Sandy and Janelle hooted and clapped a little.

"You're a bit hairy," I said while Jez snapped the pictures. He was.

"I'll have to wax if I get this role anyway. That reminds me..." He wiggled one eyebrow suggestively. The gesture was comically exaggerated, evoking the image of a silent movie villain. We all laughed except Jez, who wasn't amused. We hadn't mentioned it all night, but the point of the whole get-together was that I could serve my role as lucky charm. Maybe Mark wouldn't get the role and would leave me alone in the future, I thought to myself.

"Fine, let's get it over with. Put your s.h.i.+rt back on."

Mark and I stood chest-to-chest and leaned toward each other. All of a sudden, I felt painfully conscious of the audience watching us. Our noses b.u.mped, and I laughed nervously. With an impatient huff, Mark held my head still and pressed his lips on mine. It lasted about two seconds. There was some clapping and cheering.

"Aight, that's done. Who wants some coffee?" I asked.

Jez followed me into the kitchen, seemingly nonchalant, but before I knew what was happening, he pressed me against the fridge door. His lips latched on to mine, tongue insistently pus.h.i.+ng forth. It was hard to miss the possessiveness as Jez's hips ground into mine. We came up panting and short of breath.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're marking your territory," I teased.

He chuckled. "It's your fault. I go all Discovery Channel around you."

"How's that my fault?"

"It's never happened to me before you. Ergo, it's your fault."

"Well, I can't argue with that logic."

Jez nuzzled my neck and growled a little. "As soon as they all leave, I'll show you some moves I learned from Animal Planet."

"I can't wait."

Loose Id t.i.tles by Lou Harper.

Hanging Loose.

Lou Harper.

Under a p.r.i.c.kly, cynical surface Lou Harper is an incorrigible romantic. Her love affair with the written word started at a tender age. There was never a time when stories weren't romping around in her head. She is currently embroiled in a ruinous romance with adjectives. In her free time Lou stalks deviant words and feral narratives.

Lou's favorite animal is the hedgehog. She likes nature, books, movies, photography, and good food. She has a temper and mood swings.

Lou has misspent most of her life in parts of Europe and the US, but is now firmly settled in Los Angeles and wors.h.i.+ps the sun. However, she thinks the ocean smells funny. Lou is a loner, a misfit, and a happy drunk.

end.