Page 70 of The Texas Ranger: Saddled Up
“That’s not fair,” Aasia snapped. “She loved—loves—both of us. She’s happy that you’re back.”
“Great at least someone feels grateful that I’m here.”
“What do you mean?”
Phoebe sighed. “I think it’s safe to say that you don’t want me here. That seems like the one thing I can always count on.” She swiveled and started for the hallway then stopped, her gaze downward. “When have you done something impulsive? Just said screw it, I’m going to do something out of my bubble? Not professionally, but personally.”
“I’ve done plenty of things.”
“If you say so. I think it’s best that I leave.” Phoebe stepped out of the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” Aasia called after her.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
A part of Aasia wanted to run after Phoebe. And another part wanted to let her do whatever made her happy. She would anyway.
“I can be wild and crazy too, Kitty.”
The kitten continued to clean his fur unbothered.
Picking up Phoebe’s coffee cup, she took a drink and almost spat it out. It tasted nothing like coffee but just an overabundance of sweet creamer. She dumped the rest into the sink, washed the cup, then went upstairs to her bedroom. Her breath caught when she saw that her shirt was neatly folded on the bed.
She picked up the blouse and shook it out. On the sleeve there was a spot of nail polish. Aasia sighed.
This almost seemed fitting.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“A tattoo? That’s what you want to do for date night?” Bear asked, one brow lifted.
Aasia’s eyes were gleaming with a reckless spark. “You’re not afraid, are you? What’s one more for you?”
Her laugh was as bright as a ray of sunshine in the dim, dark décor of the tattoo shop. The flickering blue neon signs around them caught her eyes, making them sparkle. So, she was serious? He should have known when she asked him to meet her there that she had a fire under her sails.
She turned to face the wall of miniature drawings, squinting as she leaned in to take a closer look.
“Every tattoo should mean something. Your decision seems as sudden as a Texas storm,” he said.
“You don’t remember? The first time I met you I complimented you on your tattoos. I told you I’ve always wanted one—”
“But you were worried you’d get tired of permanent ink,” he finished her sentence.
“I think it just needed to be the perfect time. You don’t have to get one. I want one.” She pointed to a small minimalist tattoo of a cartoon character.
He shook his head. “Nah. That’s not you.” He tapped the picture of an intricate rose. “Closer.”
“A flower? That seems too sweet.”
“I’d have to disagree. You’re pretty sweet.” He winked.
“I’ve got an idea. How about we get matching tattoos? Something that reminds us of everything we’ve shared.”
He looked for any sign in her expression that she was teasing. “Are you serious? You really are game for that?” He was caught off guard. “Matching ink is a big deal.”
“I sure am.” She traced a heart design with the tip of her finger then glanced over her shoulder at him. “The idea is completely spontaneous, unexpected, and a whirlwind. Yet, sometimes we all must take the bull by the horns. I can be impulsive too.”
Bear hesitated for a moment as he absorbed what she was asking. “Did someone say something that bothered you?”
