Chapter 23 #2
I get yanked back when I realize that Connor isn’t following me. Glancing to my side, I see that he appears nervous or agitated, with his feet rooted down. “Are you okay?”
“Why don’t I just wait out here?” he offers.
“If they can see me now without an appointment, then it might be a good hour.”
“I’ll go grab a drink or pick out some souvenirs, I don’t know. Anything other than looking at needles.”
My face blazes with realization. “How did I not know that you’re afraid of needles?”
He shrugs. “No big deal. I mean, you should do this. It’s in an appropriate spot? I won’t need to punch the artist after because he’s seen your pussy or something, right?”
I giggle and point the side of my wrist. “Won’t even see me half-naked,” I promise.
Connor leans in and kisses my cheek. “I’ll be waiting for you then.”
I grab the back of his neck and yank him forward so I can crash my lips onto his in a bruising kiss.
He deserves more than a delicate kiss goodbye.
I slip my tongue in and swirl while I press my body against his, holding us tight.
“Go pick out something for tonight when I can’t touch the bandage of my tattoo but can lie in bed at your mercy,” I purr.
That puts him in a good mood.
Sitting in the hammock next to our hotel room, Connor stares down, hypnotized by the clear bandage as we sit side by side with our feet on the ground and the sunset fast approaching.
“I can take the bandage off later tonight. Since it’s only black ink and small, then it doesn’t need so much time,” I explain.
He hasn’t stopped glancing at the design since he picked me up. The tattoo is visible through the Saniderm bandage. It’s a few stars along the line from my wrist bone and up my forearm. They’re small, and you would only notice if you were searching or happened to catch a glance.
But it isn’t the stars that has him sentimental.
I added tiny letters and numbers inside the stars.
One is the initials of my dad, SC. Another star has the number 19; my husband’s jersey number when he became my husband.
That was a bit of a surprise for him, and me too, as I wasn’t planning on it, but it felt right.
“I’m speechless,” he reiterates again.
“I’ve noticed,” I tease him.
Connor cups my cheek with his hand, drawing a circle on my skin with the pad of his thumb, holding my gaze as he kneels down before me, his eyes full of intention. My heart is on a rollercoaster, as he has me transfixed.
“Hadley Spears. I know you are kind of already my wife, but marry me for real. Let’s have a real wedding, the kind you wrote about in your diary when you crushed on me when you were seven.”
I bring a hand to my mouth and gasp fake shock. “You mean a wedding with a unicorn theme and a magical cupcake tower?”
His laugh is deep and magical. “Okay, we may need to re-examine a few things… but a real wedding? One that you deserve to remember."
My hands frame his face, and I dive my head down to kiss him. “I absolutely love that idea.” It’s always kind of bugged me that I don’t remember when I said I do or missed out on a few wedding traditions.
I throw my arms around his neck, and he falls back onto the sand, taking me with him.
It doesn’t take long for Connor to lead us inside where we tumble and miss the bed, opting to fall on the floor without a care in the world.
He finds his way between my legs, first with his mouth and then with his cock.
Screw the fancy bed, we just need the floor when we’re this delirious with happiness.
Afterwards, we don’t move from the floor and remain in a tangled mess. “The moms are going to lose it,” he mentions, nearly out of breath.
“Oh, but we love it.”
It’s our last day of tropical life, but we can’t wait another night to speak to our parents. There is no sugarcoating it, Connor and I are family people through and through.
Connor and I get cozy around the breakfast table to ensure we both fit in the phone screen. It takes two rings before my mom answers, and not so surprising, Brielle is with her, as they normally have coffee on Saturday morning together.
“Hey! You two look like lounge lizards,” my mom notes.
“You both look good,” Brielle adds as she attempts to equal the screen share with my mom.
I smile. “Thanks. Look, we’re going to be quick. Don’t make a big deal about it, but I kind of know you both probably have been plotting this anyway,” I begin.
“We want to do a real wedding,” Connor finishes my sentence in a melancholy tone to mess with them before swiping a few fingers across his jaw.
The sound of shrieking instantly causes me to lower the phone and stare at Connor who is shaking his head ruefully. Bringing my phone back up, I throw on a polite smile.
“Say no more. We can get invites out, confirm our reservation at the Dizzy Duck, and ask Piper to design a dress that she may have already started,” my mom lists, and it causes me to burst out laughing because of course she had our neighbor designing a dress.
Connor gives them a thumbs up. “Cool. Just remember the father of the bride pays,” he jokes.
“Connor,” Brielle scolds him.
I see my dad peeking over their heads, attempting to see the screen.
“Can I talk to dad?” I request, and my mom hands him the phone. Connor takes my hand in his under the table to give me a comforting squeeze.
“Hey, princess. We’re going on the real wedding train, huh?”
“Yep. I can see Mom is going to be busy the rest of the day.” I indicate over his shoulder, as I can see in the background my mom already discussing plans with Brielle. In a strange modern-technology way, we have a bit of privacy. “Uhm, so I kind of did something while we’re down here.” I swallow.
My dad gives Connor a hardened look. “What the hell did you two kids do now?” He’s messing with us.
“This one is all her idea,” Connor promises.
I hold my wrist up to the camera so my dad can see. “It turns out my husband is a horrible replacement for tattoo partners. You are a lot better at going with me to get tattoos together, but I needed to do this one on my own and in my own time.”
My father squints his eyes. “Is that—?”
“Connor’s hockey number and… your initials.” His mouth falls as the magnitude of the meaning overwhelms him. “Because you’re my dad, the one and only, always a part of me,” I confirm.
Tears swell in his eyes, and I notice that my mom quiets down as she observes. All eyes are on my dad and me. “No need to wait. We’ll be okay,” I tell him in what must feel like code words to the outside world.
But right now, everything fits perfectly. A fleeting few months brought a lifetime ahead of us.