Chapter 48
Luke
Sol hadn’t closed her mouth from the moment they’d got there. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I told you already, cara. I do.” Luke was lying down on the table, his T-shirt removed.
“I’m not sure if I can watch,” Sol said and perhaps she looked a bit pale. “Is it going to hurt him?” she asked the artist, who was holding the tattoo machine and was ready to start working on Luke.
“We put some anesthetic cream on his chest. It’ll still be a little tingly but not painful. It’s a small thing,” the tattoo artist said. He was a big, burly chap whose arms and hands were completely covered in ink.
Sol sighed, sat on one of the chairs next to the tattoo table, beside Luke. “Okay then. This has to be the craziest thing someone has ever done for me.” She sighed again. “The most romantic one too.”
Luke smiled. He was going exactly for that: crazy, romantic—and distinct.
He’d had the thought of inking a little sun, after Sol, over his heart on his chest the day before.
He had even managed to shake Sol and Divya for a few minutes to consult at a little tattoo parlor in Palma, and made an appointment.
Not even the fraught conversation he’d had with Miquel, where Ex Number One had mistakenly told Luke that Sol would never marry again, had dissuaded him from inking his skin with a symbol of his lover.
Sol
Sol took her eyes away from Luke’s exposed skin when the tattoo artist first put the needle on his chest. She was still feeling a tad queasy at the idea of her lover, her husband-to-be, voluntarily going through a painful situation just to make a point of how much he loved her—and how permanent he wanted to make that third marriage of hers.
She gulped. Decided she needed some sort of distraction.
Maybe entertain herself and Luke—tease him—while he was on the tattoo table being prodded. She sure needed the diversion.
“So, you warmed up to Leonardo, in the end?” The tattoo machine was humming incessantly in the background. The sound wasn’t exactly musical—or heartening.
Luke’s face turned to hers, his brow furrowed. “I’ve never had a problem with the chap.”
“Liar.”
He winced. Sol wasn’t sure if it was because he’d been caught in a lie—or that whole activity being a bit painful after all. “I never understood the fascination with him. That’s all…”
Her gaze sharpened. She’d never been fascinated by Leonardo Pascual, just pure regular regard. “Still don’t believe you. But I will let it go because I’m happy.” She dropped the teasing and went for full transparency.
Luke’s face brightened. “You’re happy.”
“Yes.” She didn’t think she could smile any harder. “For many reasons. One is that the case is finally over.”
“And Meshflixx won’t hate us, hopefully. Divya is meeting with them in London. But why else are you happy?”
“I started writing a second book and it’s been blissful every time I’ve had time for it.
So I’m going to take my author career more seriously.
And hopefully find more time for writing once we’re back home.
” All the time she’d spent with Luke and Divya investigating would be invaluable.
There were so many things she wanted to put on the page—with all the necessary changes and embellishments of course. She was a fiction author, after all.
“It sounds brilliant.” He meant it.
“I’m going to answer one of Miquel’s incessant calls or text messages. I’m not one to hold a grudge. He all but swore it was his editor who blindsided him into publishing that story, and I decided to choose to believe him,” Sol said.
“He’s still not my favorite person,” Luke admitted. “But I see that being friends with him makes you happier, cara.”
Could a man sound more reasonable while still looking like a freaking British Italian model? Sol couldn’t really believe her luck.
“Don’t forget to give him the good news about the marriage.” Luke’s smile was simply roguish. It was as if he was up to something. But Sol let it go.
“Oh, I will tell him! But the main reason why I’m happy,” she continued, a bit more hesitant than with the previous statements, “is you.”
His eyes sparkled with intensity. He was about to say something, but he winced again.
Sol gasped. “Although I have to say, I’m not sure how I feel about this show of love on your part. Haven’t you gone a bit overboard? You look positively pained.”
“I’m fine.” He smiled at her.
Sol decided to believe him. There was still something else she wanted to discuss.
Something she wanted to dispense with in a fast and unfussy fashion.
“So, wedding. Let’s make the planning and decision-making quick and painless, yes?
Small, civil ceremony. Family and a few friends.
I know, that means there'll still be a lot of people because you have a huge family. But let’s keep it intimate.
I’ll get a dress because, of course I will.
You can wear whatever you want because you look good in anything.
But hopefully the whole thing won’t take us too long and I can make an honest man out of you in, let’s say, a month? ”
“A month?” Luke almost jumped off the table.
“Careful, man,” the tattoo artist warned. “This is very precise work. We don’t want to have to laser off anything.”
Luke settled on the table again. He widened his eyes at Sol.
“Are you getting cold feet, Luca?” Sol teased.
“Of course not but I just assumed you’d need more time to think about it and plan and—I don’t know!”
“I’m determined and extremely impatient. Now that I realized I want to marry you, I want this done ASAP.”
“All right, four weeks it is then. Can we marry in Italy, though?”
Sol cocked her head at him. He couldn’t be any more perfect.
“Now you’re talking. Destination weddings are my favorite kind.”