Crossroads (Beautiful Biker MC Romance Series) - DD Prince Page 0,136

you wanted me to have, the rings you thought no one would be good enough to measure up to but then decided that they had to be on my finger.”

He stared with intensity on his face.

“Can I see?” I asked.

“That’s sweet baby, but they gotta be on your finger so if you want, wear ‘em to marry me and then we’ll get you another set that you can wear every day. I’m happy enough if you just wear them tomorrow.”

“Are you gonna show them to me?”

He reached into his leather which was on the chair beside the bed and popped the box open to show me.

“They’re lovely. I love them a lot.”

They weren’t super flashy. They were quite tasteful, though, and I would not feel remotely embarrassed wearing them on my finger. Not huge and not skimpy either. The wedding band was a simple and thin eternity band with small diamonds. The engagement ring had a solitary round diamond.

“You sure? Because I can have them made into jewelry for you or something, so you can wear them but buy you a bigger rock---”

“Nope. They’re beautiful. I’ll wear them with pride.”

He slipped the engagement ring on my finger.

“It’s a perfect fit,” I told him.

They looked great, too. They sparkled. Jolene must have cleaned them before giving them to us. They did look a little old-fashioned, but they certainly didn’t look like they’d been sitting in a box for years and years.

His fingers threaded through my hair and he put his lips to mine with tenderness that made my heart fill up to bursting.

“I love you so much,” he told me, voice a sexy rumble.

“I love you, too,” I returned.

He lay back and I curled up with him. “You called me the girl of your dreams twice today.” I put my chin on his chest and looked into his eyes.

“You are. And somehow, the reality is even better than the dream, polka dots.”

I smiled. “You’re the man of mine. I knew I wanted someone tough. Someone in the life. Someone fierce. Someone with muscles.” I squeezed his bicep. I couldn’t get my hand all the way around. It was bigger than the span of both my hands. I kissed it.

And then I looked to the other one, the Jackals tatted bicep.

“Gonna black this out soon? Get some Brotherhood ink? Hey! Wedding tattoos!”

His eyes were on me and his eyebrows were up and kind of… if I wasn’t mistaken…horrified.

“The name Jojo inked in little loopy script on your ring finger?” I played with his ring finger.

“Loopy? You’re fuckin’ loopy, woman.”

“I’m serious. Property of Fork tramp stamp on my lower back! I haven’t gotten any ink yet but always said my first ink would have my man’s name in it.”

He blew out a breath and didn’t say anything, so I waited.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re a little nuts. We’ll shop and get me a ring tomorrow.”

I cackled and then put my hand to the Jackals ink. I ran my thumb across the rabid dog.

“You should get this covered or blacked out as soon as possible. I hate it.”

“No need,” he said.

I took a closer look at the drooling hideously mean dog and the ugly font. It looked like his skin was peeling over the ink and it wasn’t a very good artistic job. Clearly his ink hadn’t been done by anyone with talent.

I had a sweeping memory of my brother Rider in our basement, shirtless and Luke bent over his back with his tattoo gun. I felt a pang of pain because strangely my first thought then wasn’t about the fact that I’d lost Luke who I thought I’d loved, but more about the fact that Luke would’ve given Christian some beautiful ink. If only he was alive to ink a brotherhood tattoo on Christian. What a strange thought.

I rubbed my thumb across the ink. There was residue on the pad of my thumb. This wasn’t his skin peeling; the tattoo was coming off. It was peeling. I ran my thumbnail across and half of it peeled. “This is fake.”

“Yep. That’s why I just said, ‘no need’. Time for a new one but I didn’t bring any with me.”

“Holy shit. This isn’t real?”

“Nope.”

I stared into his eyes. “What? What!”

“Maybe I knew back when I was nineteen and gettin’ that member patch for my leather that it didn’t belong there. Been puttin’ the temporary tatts on for almost eight years every week or two. Got a fuckin’ shoe box of ‘em in my room