Page 108 of Playboy’s Purgatory

“How about we plan a weekend away? The three of us?” I glance at her and she’s looking at me with love in her eyes. “I’ll plan it, if you’re interested. Maybe Chattanooga? We can do a house rental for a weekend and see the aquarium.” I start fucking babbling, “It’s not too far, but far enough to get away and see another town.”

This is big and it would be something new for us. It would also be the first time we do something as a family unit.

Will she trust me enough to give it a shot? Fuck, I hope so. I think she will.

Probably.

Maybe.

I feel the back of my neck prickle while I focus on my work. And her verdict.

LARA

My biker is adorable. He looks worried that I’m going to say no to a weekend away.

Why would I refuse? If he’s really going to plan it, I’m all in.

“Okay,” I grin when his eyes widen, “you look at your schedule and let me know when you want to do it. I’ll work the bakery’s schedule around it as long as I don’t have a big custom order.”

For a moment, hunched over my arm, Jettson freezes. When he looks at me, the movement is slow.

“Is this you saying yes?”

“Did it sound like me saying no?”

“Well, no,” he admits and I give him a look.

I swear the guy is practically glowing as he leans back over my arm. He keeps looking for little things, wiping my skin, and picking up ink. But he’s done.

It’s clear from the look on his face. He’s just stalling.

There’s no reason for me to call him out on it. Not right now. Not when he’s so damn cute like this; all flustered.

I feel freer knowing Lola has been dealt with and won’t bother us anymore; I believe him. The burden of my past with her is gone.

Sometimes I look at him and remember the guy who snarled at me and said off-base things which were rude and mean spirited. Every day it gets harder to reconcile that version of him with the man in front of me. I suppose that means I’m ready.

I’ve been holding back and he’s very aware of it. He hasn’t made me feel guilty about it or used my own trepidation to hurt me.

Jettson has been steady and sure. He keeps showing up. I can feel his remorse and his sincerity.

I think I’m ready to love him openly and completely.

“Are you going to keep pretending you’re not done?”

“You didn’t have to call me out on it,” he grumps. Still, he puts the tattoo gun down and cleans the last of the vines and flowers he added today. He nods toward the mirror, “Go and take a look at the whole thing. I’ll wrap it and then I have a surprise for you in my office.”

After I make my way over, I meet his gaze in the mirror. “A surprise?” He nods and I narrow my eyes. “It’s not your dick, is it?”

Riti starts laughing so hard she has to put her tattoo gun down and pull her gloves off because she’s wiping tears from her cheeks. Her client tries not to laugh, but he’s not very good at it. She’s only here because I told Jettson to stop being ridiculous and run his business the right way.

Jettson glares at me, but there’s no real heat behind it. “No, it’s not my dick,” he says it like it’s not an actual possibility. We both know it is.

And the surprise probably is, in reality, his dick.

“It’s done,” he lets out a long sigh as he finishes wrapping me up.

I tease him and wiggle my fingers at him to take my hand, my voice sweet, “Now I get a surprise that is not your penis?”