Accidentally in Love with the Pilot by Teri Anne Stanley

Author:Teri Anne Stanley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Entangled, Lovestruck, Romantic Comedy, Military Romance, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary romance, Women’s Humorous Fiction, Women’s Romance Fiction, fighter pilot, pilot, navy, military, vegas, married, marriage, Opposites attract, Under your Nose, Forced Proximity
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC (Lovestruck)
Published: 2018-07-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Ten minutes later, Ben found himself lying on his stomach on a massage chair, having his shoulder scrubbed and shaved while Megan underwent the same procedure a few feet away.

She smiled at him and reached her hand out. “I’m a little nervous,” she told him as the female artist, who resembled Kat Von D with blond hair, began to mark her skin.

Ben took her hand and held it, glad he had a high pain tolerance. It would suck to wimp out when the needle started to buzz. He’d seen it happen to friends.

“What do you think about this?” the man asked Ben, handing him a mirror and holding another one behind him so he could see the design he’d drawn with marker.

He shrugged. “Looks good.” The glyphs were arranged in the same place as Megan’s were on the back of her shoulder. Hers would show when she wore a tank top with skinny straps, like she had on today.

He liked this. Liked that she wanted to get a permanent reminder of their temporary relationship. Even if that wasn’t her primary purpose, he was still a little touched by the gesture.

“Okay, here we go,” the woman told Megan, and turned on her needle.

Ben’s hand was soon being crushed, but that was fine—it took his attention from the fire on his own back. This hurt.

In no time, the buzzing stopped, and the artists wiped away the last of the ink and blood from their skin.

“Make sure you follow the instructions on the paper I gave you,” the man told them as they went to the cash register to pay for their art.

“Oh, wait,” the woman said. “I want to take a picture before you leave.”

She lined them up side by side, and Ben pulled his shirt back off. He looked over his shoulder at the mirror behind them, noting how Megan’s tattoo showed up much more on her paler skin, and wondering if he should have asked if he could get white ink so his would show up, too.

“Hang on. I want to put the translation on a card below it.” The woman hastily scribbled “Ben” and “Meg” on index cards, and tore a couple of strips of tape from the dispenser next to the register. But when she came to stick the cards on their backs, she put “Ben” on Megan’s back, and “Meg” on Ben’s back.

“You got them backward,” he said. “I’m Ben, that’s Meg.”

“Right. And you got ‘Meg’ on your back, and she got ‘Ben.’”

Megan turned to him then, eyes wide but not, he noticed, horrified. She covered her mouth, but no one would miss her laughter.

“It’s good thinking,” the woman said. “Newlyweds come in here all the time to get each other’s names tattooed on themselves, only to come back a few months later to get them covered over because the marriage didn’t last. This way, if you don’t make it, you won’t have to get them removed, because no one but an eighteenth-century linguist will know

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