“I’m in love with you, Katelyn, and if you said you wanted to get married, I’d do it, but I’d like for you to think of something first and that’s the girls. I’ve told you that I respect your love for Mason and I’ll never ask you to stop loving him, and that includes changing your name. I don’t need some piece of paper to tell me that you’re mine, what I need is for you to love me, that’s all I ask. What I need is for Peyton and Elle to know their father and to know that I’m there for them when he can’t be. It’s important to me for them to decide how they want me around. If they come to me, years from now and say they want me to adopt them, I’ll do it, but it has to be their decision.
“This doesn’t mean I won’t marry you, I will, you just tell me when you’re ready, but I think we both know that you might not ever get there. I have no doubt in my mind that you’re a one wedding bride, and I’m more than okay with that. I respect that and love you more for it. I know we can have a long and happy life, standing side-by-side, watching our children grow up.
“I know Liam has been taking care of your bills. I know he paid off your house, but I want to take care of you now. I don’t want you to work, unless you want to. I know you like being home when the kids get out of school and I want that for you. Let me provide for you, Peyton and Elle.”
Tears pool in my eyes. How he knows me the way he does is beyond me. I move closer and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. His arms encase me, holding me to his body.
“I think if I was someone different, I’d be kicking you out of bed for saying we’re never getting married.”
Harrison laughs. “Baby, if you were someone else, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“No?”
“No,” he says leaning back to look at me. “I only have eyes for Katelyn Powell.”
"Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“You know I think it’s going to be sexy as hell, right?” I pick up our joined hands and kiss hers.
“No, I didn’t know that.” I can’t tell if she’s being coy or not.
I shake my head. “Fuck, baby, I’m hard just thinking about it.”
I pull into the parking lot of Rock City. I feel her stiffen next to me. I know she’s scared, but she knows that she can back out at any time. This is something she wants, something that she suggested.
I get out of the car and run around to her door and open it for her. I take her hand in mine and walk with her by my side.
When she came to me and said she wanted a tattoo, I thought she was joking, but she wasn’t. In fact, she had the design all picked out. I asked her how long she had been thinking about getting one, and she said a while.
The chime on the door rings out when we enter. I made her an appointment as soon as she asked. She fills out her paperwork and hands her drawing to the artist, who starts transforming it into something he can work with.
“Right this way,” he says. She grabs my hand. I squeeze hers, letting her know that I’m with her all the way.
“Where do you want it,” he asks. She looks at me and smiles. The location has been a secret until now. She lets go of my hand and lifts her shirt.
“Whoa, what are you doing?” I ask, as I try to pull her shirt back down.
“Stop,” she says, pushing my hands away. She turns and points to her hip, showing the artist where she wants her flower and how it should fit on her body.
“You’ll have to pull your shorts down a bit,” he says, watching my reaction. “Lie on your side.” He nods toward the table and waits for her. With her shirt lifted and her shorts hanging lower than I’d like them to be in public, he sets her design on her and pulls away the paper.
Her flower will sit just above her hipbone with vines above and below. Small stars will be added as accents.
“What color do you want the flower?”
“Purple,” she answers.
I pull a chair closer to her and hold her hand. She looks at me, her eyes showing concern. “You’ll be fine. You’ve given birth to twins, this will seem easy.”
She rolls her eyes and scoots her head closer to me. She rests there, waiting. I lean down and kiss her on the nose. She stiffens when the gun turns on. I know she’s nervous. I was too when I got my first one, but I know she’ll do just fine and will likely want another one soon.
As soon as the needle touches her skin, she squeezes my hand. I watch her for any sign of distress, but see none. She keeps her eyes closed, likely concentrating on her happy place. Where that is, I don’t know, she won’t tell me. Either way, if it keeps her calm and levelheaded, she can go there whenever she wants.