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His words make me grin, even as I keep my face turned away.
“You’re right. And I want you to tattoo me. If you don’t, then I’ll have to ask some other random tattoo artist to do it.”
He gives me a sexy growl in answer, and I know I’ve won. Ben isn’t some raging alpha male who gets jealous at the mere sight of me talking to another man. But no way would he be happy about someone else’s needle touching my skin.
“If anyone is going to mark you, it’s going to be me.”
“Agreed.” I turn just enough to capture his eyes. “I trust you.”
All uncertainty leaves his face, and he gives me one of his wicked grins.
My chest warms as I smile back before turning away again. Goose bumps race over my skin at the whirring sound of his machine, and with the stinging pierce of it hitting my wrist, I’m finally able to relax.
Except not really because, Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!
This hurts like someone is digging their fingernails into a fresh sunburn. I want to complain because I’m a wimp, but I clench my teeth and keep my whining to myself. I’m not giving Ben any reason to stop.
I wish I had thought to put on some music or something. This would be more bearable with a distraction.
As if reading my mind, Ben pauses. “You want me to put on the radio?”
“Yes, please.” That sounded completely normal and not at all like I’m trying to hold back a whimper.
There’s a stereo near Ben’s desk, so he just leans back and flips the power button. The familiar voices of the Preston and Steve morning show crew fill the studio. Their crude, hilarious conversations are exactly what I need to take my mind off the discomfort of my arm. Soon, I’m able to block out the persistent ache.
A commercial is playing when Ben lowers the volume. A glance at the clock shows it’s been a little over an hour.
“All done.” He wipes the area with a wet paper towel, and the cold is a shock against my sensitive skin.
“Should I look?”
He lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’ve wanted you to look from the beginning!”
I turn and stick my tongue out at him because it’s what he deserves. Then, I gasp when I finally examine his creation.
What was once a pale, bare wrist now has a beautiful scene etched into it. A tiny replica of our cabin sits, surrounded by delicate pine trees, and rising from the chimney is a stream of smoke that forms a wistful little heart. My own heart clenches and stutters at the gorgeous piece of art that is now a permanent piece of me.
“So … is it okay?”
When I gaze up at the man I love, he’s leaning away from me, hand scratching the back of his neck.
How could he doubt, even for a moment, that I would be in awe of his talent?
“There is nothing more perfect in the world than this picture. I love it almost as much as I love you.” I’m tickled to observe a slight reddening of his cheeks as he smiles at me.
I want to run my fingers over the tattoo, but I know I’ll just hurt myself if I do. So, instead, I stare down at the picture, taking in every detail. In the delicate work, I see Ben’s love for me.
He’s inspecting me when I raise my head. Making sure not to jostle my arm, I slide off the chair and settle myself in his lap.
“I love you, Ben Gerhard.”
When he opens his mouth to respond, I cut him off with a kiss. I don’t need to hear him say the words when I have them displayed on my wrist.
BEN
Holly peels back the gauze I loosely taped over her wrist earlier. Marcus swore, she was playing a joke on him when she called to tell him about the tattoo. He showed up at the shop just a minute ago, demanding proof.
“Isn’t it the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?”
