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“Okay, warrior. It’s your call. I need a better angle, though. You might have to sit on me.”
“Wow.” I pushed myself up on the bed, my left arm feeling a little tight and sore when I put weight on it. “That must be kind of uncomfortable when you have to do a six-foot-tall man’s tattoo.”
“My methods are altered for today.” He winked that pretty eye.
“Oh, yeah?” I dropped down from the table.
“I’m happy to get up close and personal with you. And I need a close-up view for the next part.”
I climbed onto his lap, and he pulled me closer. He plucked another pair of gloves from a box at his side, granting easy access. My hand stopped him from popping them on.
“What is that?” Is it a scar?”
I pulled his hand close to my eyes for a better look, remembering something I’d saw at Rodregez’s that first day Remi found me—and somehow, had forgotten since. A curved pink line on his marital finger.
“This isn’t a scar?” My thumbpad vibrated over a cursive C.
“It’s not a scar.”
“It’s not new, either.”
“No. It’s not new.”
I brushed it again, still shaking with nerves and emotion. “When did you get it?”
“A long time ago. I’ve had to redo it a few times, but it’ll be there forever.”
“I actually worried you were having second thoughts.”
“Not a chance in hell.” His fingers squeezed around mine, and then black latex covered his hands.
The machine sucked up dark ink.
Dip. Buzz. Dip. Buzz.
“Don’t look for the next few minutes.”
“I won’t.”
The needle scraped over my skin, back at the first little bear that would stay with me for life.
My head stayed high, my eyes on his, appreciating how he looked as he created art on my skin, and I stayed like that until he told me otherwise.
“You can look now.”
I smiled at him, teeth exposed with excitement.
No elation or disappointment showed on his face until I looked down.
The little bear had paws now, and one waved at me with the most beautiful ring around his furry wrist.
My smile grew until my facial muscles ached and asked me to tone it down. I ignored them, taking in the black heart and the tiny moonstones on each side, twinkling rose pink and celestial blue. Light radiated outwards from the design, towards the edge of my arm, and in the bear’s beady eyes.
“The black heart is to show you’re mine. You’ll forever wear a heart as black as Cole. Pun intended.”
“You don’t have a black heart. I don’t care what you say. You have a perfect heart.”
“We can disagree on that one.” He went on to tell me more about the design. “The first night we met, you were fascinated by the moon, and that’s where the moonstones come in.”
