The Sweetest Gift - Scarlett Cole Page 0,17
are you ready to head to the… oh, sorry… I’ll just…” Pixie’s voice faded back into the living room as Jordan stepped out of Dred’s arms.
“Thanks,” Jordan said gruffly. “For… for all of that.”
Dred nodded. “You sure you guys don’t mind looking out for Petal and Arwen when they wake up from their naps? We can take them with us.”
Jordan shook his head. “Nah. I’ll take them down to the beach for a walk. Get some fresh air. Probably buy a shit ton of ice cream.”
Dred grinned. “Don’t let Petal talk you into buying anything more than a single-scoop.”
He stepped back into the living room where Pixie was waiting. “Ready, Snowflake?”
She ran her fingers through his windswept and knotted curls. “Are you okay?” she asked, quietly.
“Yeah,” he answered honestly. “I’m really fucking good.”
On the way down in the elevator, he called a cab, and within minutes, they stood outside the tattoo studio that had brought them together.
“Do you remember how many times you turned me down before you agreed to go on a date with me?” he asked, taking Pixie’s hand as they walked to the entrance of Second Circle Tattoos. It now occupied both floors of the building with more tattoo artists, piercers, and body modification experts.
“I felt sorry for your sick ass when I finally agreed. I couldn’t stand one more sniveled beg.”
Dred huffed. “It was my tenacity and wit that got you to say yes.”
Pixie shook her head. “No, but I’ve never regretted a moment since then, if that helps your ego along.”
“Nice save, Babe.”
“You’re here!” Lia squealed. “Oh my god, you’re finally here.”
Lia and Pixie hugged the shit out of each other on the sidewalk, quickly followed by rapid conversation involving how great Pixie’s hair was, something to do with a dragon blood facial, and how Harper had bought four pairs of shoes for the day. He followed the two of them inside as the frantic back and forth continued.
“Have they drawn breath yet?” Trent said, slapping him on the back.
“Not that I can tell. It appears to be some kind of circular breathing where they just don’t stop.” Dred noticed Pixie pat the wall of the entryway as she walked into the tattoo studio.
“Break it up,” Cujo said playfully, nudging Lia and Pixie apart. “You’re hogging her, bridezilla.”
Pixie was engulfed in Cujo’s arms, and the pure happiness on Pixie’s face told Dred that they didn’t come back to Miami anywhere near as often as they probably should, or Pixie would like.
He thought back to her comments that morning when she’d bounced out of bed.
We’re going home today… I’m so freaking excited.
She still viewed Miami as home. Even though, he hoped, she thought of Toronto as home, too. Somewhere between her building her children’s clothing company, and him being with his brothers recording and touring, oh, and being parents to two… hopefully, at some point, three… kids, they’d not made coming back enough of a priority.
Watching Trent slap Cujo over the back of his head and pull Pixie into a hug confirmed it. This was her family, and as much as he needed the band, she needed… this.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” Lia said.
Dred hugged the statuesque redhead. “There is nowhere else she’d rather be. And though I’ve not yet seen your dress, I know she’s poured her heart into it.”
Lia grinned. “It’s one of a kind. When I came up last month for the fitting, it was already the most impressive thing I’d ever seen. It’s going to be perfect.”
The roar of a motorcycle grew louder as it came down the street. “He’s here,” she squealed, and then with a pace that shouldn’t have been possible in such painfully high-heeled platform shoes, she dashed outside. A souped-up motorbike pulled up alongside the curb. Reid put his arm around Lia’s waist before he’d switched off the engine or removed his helmet, which he did rather impressively with one hand.
“How’s the missus dealing with her brother getting married?” he asked Trent, who had finally put Pixie down.
“She’s having the time of her life. She loves weddings. She’s over at the church today making sure the flowers are what they agreed to.”
Dred grinned. “Do you ever just look around and wonder what the hell you did to deserve all this?”
Trent nodded. “Every day. Every. Fucking. Day. Even in the chaos of it.”
“Trent,” a new assistant behind the desk called out. “Your last appointment is seated.” She nodded in the direction of Trent’s chair, one Dred had