Looking down at her sparkling eyes and blindingly happy smile, I felt almost like a superhero. I’d put that smile there. Me. “Enjoy it. You deserve it.” I brushed my lips over hers and nibbled the side of her mouth, and then spoke against the soft red skin of her lip. “You want something to drink or eat? I got pickles just for you.” Her answer was to snort and nod her head.
When I pulled a jar of pickles out of a bag under the table and handed it to her, she pecked me on the cheek and took off as fast as her heavy frame would allow. I chuckled when she eased down on the waiting room sofa and opened the jar, popping a pickle straight in her mouth. I could even hear her moan from across the room. “Damn, pickles,” I muttered busying myself again.
“I’m not sure what you were thinking picking this cake,” Ma chastised stepping up beside me.
“What’s wrong with the cake?” I asked confused. It was what the lady had suggested at the bakery when I called the order in.
“It’s blue,” she pointed out softly.
“Yes, it’s blue. I’m relieved you aren’t color blind yet, Ma.” I ducked right away, but her hand still miraculously connected with my ear. “Ouch,” I complained rubbing my lobe between my fingers.
“You don’t know you’re having a boy, bebe.” Ma’s warm smile made me more than a little happy.
“It has to be. Look at the genes in play here.” I pointed to my puffed out chest.
“Still so modest,” she mumbled leaning up and kissing me on the cheek before finding her seat again.
It was a damn near perfect day. Teen was smiling like a loon surrounded by baby crap of every possible variety. So why was my stomach churning like a bitch?
Teeny
Once everything was cleaned up and all our friends and family had left, Trip smiled and told me with a sparkle in his eyes, “I have another surprise.” He had been acting all cute and discreet, and made me close my eyes. Shuffling through the parlor, I held onto his hand and let him lead the way.
Still with my eyes closed, he told me, “Lay down right here. I’ll guide you.” He held my hips until I was sitting on the tattoo table and then gently helped me to lay down. The paper sheet crinkled under me as I got comfortable.
“So I’ve been working on this tattoo piece for your ribs. I want to show you,” Trip told me cautiously.
“Won’t I need my eyes open to see it?” I pointed out smiling. He was being coy and a little obscure.
Buzzzzz
At the sound of the tattoo gun, my eyes shot open and I sat up, ramrod straight.
“What are you doing?” I barked out. Trip had the tattoo gun in his hand. “You can’t tattoo me! I’m pregnant!” I screeched. My hand flew up to my chest and my heart raced a million miles an hour. A giant smile took over his face and he burst out laughing. It was then that I realized he’d intended to frighten me.
“You should have seen your face,” he wheezed holding his stomach with one hand. “That was priceless.”
I slapped his arm. “You scared me to half to death, you asshole,” I giggled.
“I was just messing with you.” He calmed himself down enough to put the tattoo gun down and picked up a sharpie. “I have this instead.” He waved the pen around and raised his eyebrows.
“Okay, you’re in charge here.”
Rather than just pulling up my top, he gripped my hips, squeezed my waist then slowly slid his hands up my ribs causing my top to lift and goose bumps to break out over my skin. His thumbs brushed against my ribs in a small affectionate gesture.
“This might be a little cold,” his husky voice penetrated the cloud of lust around my head. Uncapping the marker, he sat me up, legs dangling over the side of the table and then rolled himself on the stool between my legs.
"You gotta keep still, Princess," Trip whispered against my skin. The wet tip of the sharpie tickled my ribs as he leaned in close and started drawing lines, shapes and patterns I wasn’t able to see yet.
I let out a long breath and relaxed under his hard warm hands.
“Oh, that’s pretty.” I glanced at the intricate vines he had sketched over my taut skin within minutes.
“I’ve barely started,” he grinned concentrating on his task. I was entrapped by the look on his face; every so often, his tongue would shoot out and wet his lips. Not only had my sex drive flown through the roof, but any normal woman would have wanted to jump his bones. He was damn sexy when he was drawing; he always had been. There were more than a few times when I’d been at the shop visiting Scarlett and he’d been sketching something, so absorbed in his project that he wouldn’t notice me watching him. The way he’d bite his lip and furrow his brow was enough to make me combust.
I must have become lost in thought, as the next time I looked down, he had made a lot of progress. Along one side of my ribs was an amazingly detailed vine with whisper-soft baby’s breath; the background was the perfect pattern of wind and blowing leaves.
“That’s amazing. Is it done?” I asked trying to see further past his tattooed hands.
“Nope, I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time. I’m savoring it,” Trip murmured completely focused.
“What do you mean a long time?” I hadn’t realized before now, but he had drawn the entire thing without a sketch. He’d told me he drew up the design, so it wasn’t just him messing around with a pen; he had committed it to memory beforehand.
“I told you. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, probably since the first time you walked into the parlor. You were wearing those fucking tight jeans that made your ass look like heaven and a backless shirt-thingy,” he all but moaned.
Dumbstruck, I searched his face to find him lost in thought, the black marker raised mid-stroke. A cheeky grin slowly crept over his face and he shook his head.
“Explain, please,” I demanded softly. The pen tickling as he steadily created his masterpiece.
“You didn’t know?” he asked looking up at me as I shook my head. “Babe, every fucking time you walked in the room, I’d have a hard-on the size of the Statue of Liberty. I lost count of the number of times I whacked off with you on my mind.”
“Oh, I didn’t know. Why didn’t you ever…?” I wanted to ask, but I was afraid of the answer. I still had this niggling fear he had fallen in love with me only because I was carrying his child.
Capping the pen, he put it aside. “I never wanted to mess up the friendship we had. If I had thought for a second fucking you six ways from Sunday would have gotten me what I have now, I wouldn’t have hesitated. I wasn’t ready then. I am now.” The easy, simple way he spoke those words melted my heart.
“I’m stuck between wanting to punch your pretty face and wanting to kiss the hell out of it.” He didn’t want to mess up our friendship?
“My face isn’t pretty,” he injected with a scowl. “It’s manly and handsome.”
I chose to ignore his disgruntled comment and pointed out, “Our friendship wasn’t exactly a healthy one.”
“I figured you knew I was hot for you, that’s why you pranced around in next to nothing or skin-tight shit. You were torturing me on purpose.”
“No, I didn’t.” My browns creased then an idea formed. “I could have banged the hell out of you long before now. I’m thinking we have to make up for time lost.”
With a shake of his head and a heated look, he picked up the sharpie and moved between my legs.
“Not there. I won’t be able to see it if you do it there,” I giggled when the marker pressed to the underside of my stomach leaving the wet black lines.
“I’m strangely turned on right now,” he smirked wickedly.
“I can help with that.” I immediately jumped at the chance.
“Be patient, Princess.” He put the lid back on the sharpie pen and tossed it on the table beside him. He then moved back a little to view his work. He smiled before slowly leaning forward and pressing his lips to my stomach, while squeezing my hips. He leaned his forehead against it and took a deep breath. The gesture was so sweet that it made me want to cry.
Only two more weeks of the damn pregnancy hormones if luck was on my side.
Trip lingered at my belly pressing kisses to it for a moment longer before he picked up a small mirror and held it to his chest. My interest was more than piqued. He was acting a little strangely.
Holding out a hand, he helped me down from the table. “Stand there. I’ll show you.” He proceeded to trace my stomach and walk me through his design. “You saw most of it; here’s our part.” Stretched out along the middle of my belly was a timeline of sorts. “There’s donuts because you always used to bring them in to the parlor, and you made sure I got my favorite.” Pointing to the tiny images, he dragged his fingertips to the next. “There’s board games. From the first night we made out, you remember that? We hadn’t known each other long.” I nodded. I did remember.
We’d gotten drunk together at Scarlett’s one night, all of us just lounging around playing stupid kids’ board games. She had passed out cold and we ended up making out like a couple of teenagers. It’d turned hot and heavy, but something had snapped and he pulled us to a stop. I’d been overly pissed off, but played it like I didn’t care either way. I’d cared. I already had a crush on him by then.
“This here is the drink you threw at me that night at Bob’s bar when I chased that douchebag away from you.” He pointed to a perfect glass that looked exactly like the rum and coke I’d been drinking that night. “He was screwing the waitress in the hallway in between dances with you.” Trip told me, his face getting stormy as he no doubt remembered that night.
His fingers, whisper–soft, moved over further. “This is for the first time we heard Midget’s heartbeat.” He smiled softly pointing to a little zigzag heartbeat pattern. “This one is his first teddy bear. Next, a microphone for the song I sang to you at the wedding.”
“To me?” I asked.
“Yeah, that was all for you. That’s where this comes in.” He pointed to an angel holding up a tiny ball of light. There were other little pieces of art scattered across my skin, all representing a little piece of our story. The main focal point above the whole thing was a princess crown, which made me laugh. When he first started calling me that, I would get so mad at him I’d glare daggers at him for days. He’d simply laugh and saunter off.
Slightly emotional I went to move as he stood up. His hand on my arm stopped me and he dropped down onto his knees holding the mirror to his side.
“This one is really important.” Holding the mirror so I could see the underside of my bump I read the script, and read it again and gasped. Looking down into his nervous blue eyes, I opened my mouth to speak.
He stopped me and read the words out loud. “Princess, I’m so in love with you; it hurts. You make me crazy and you drive me nuts. You know me like nobody else. I want to be your somebody for the rest of my life; you’ll forever be my somebody. Will you be my wife? Marry me?” he finished shakily.
