AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Are you insinuating that you don’t love me?” I asked, brows raised. He’d never said the words, but he didn’t need to. I felt them in his actions, and that meant more to me than declarations from a more poetic man.
He looked up from where he was testing the tattoo machine—each short buzz making my belly clench with anticipation. I was excited to have them mark me and claim me as theirs. The wedding was in a little over a week, but this was a private moment, just for us.
“Are you sure you want us forever?” he asked, his eyes on mine. I’d expected him to make a joke, but he was grave. “Once our names are on you, we’re never going to let you go.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Mark me as yours. Keep me forever.”
Tarryn disinfected the area as Valor settled in.
“Maybe we should use a stencil,” Valor said. “I feel like this is going to turn out as well as my signature on one of those little machines delivery companies use.”
“That’s what I was worried about, too.” Tarryn groaned.
“Just do it.”
“Fine.”
“Do you want to hold my hand?” Tarryn stood next to me and laced her delicate fingers with mine. “I’d tell you it doesn’t hurt, but I don’t remember any of it.”
The machine started up. “Hold still,” Valor commanded, using the gruff voice he usually reserved for ordering Tarryn around in the bedroom.
I braced myself.
“I’ll love you forever, Loïc Leduc,” Valor said, shocking me. The earnestness in his gaze was my undoing.
I wept like a child as he marked me. Tarryn kissed away my tears and rested her cheek against mine.
When they switched places, Tarryn’s gaze was full of the warmth and empathy I now relied on every day. I was deliriously happy that our child would have such a loving mother.
“Forever and ever,” she vowed.
Valor held my hand as she took her turn marking me with slow, careful strokes.
In the end, the marks were small and perfect, even though Tarryn complained they were messy.
My big, messy heart was full.
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Loïc
‘Till death do us part’ is for quitters.
Death won't stop me.
Loïc Davenport, Journal 16
The gown was white, sleeveless, and flowing, draping over Tarryn’s rounded belly and new curves. Now, at six months along, she looked like a spring goddess, with her bouncing red curls held back in a white headband, and her belly full of baby.
“You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding, you sneak,” she said with mock disapproval. She opened the closet door and ushered me out of it.
“What gave me away?”
“The fact that I know you, Loïc Leduc.”
“So, you knew I was watching as you gotdressed?”
“Yes.”
“And while you showered?”
