Griffin shook his head. “If I had a dollar for every inked up new husband that brought his wife in here and took it worse than she did … well. I wouldn’t have to tat anyone ever again.”
“Just tell me how much I owe, smartass,” Travis mumbled.
“I’ll have your bill at the counter,” Griffin said, amused with Travis’s retort.
I looked around the room at the shiny chrome and posters of sample tattoos on the wall and then back down to my stomach. My new last name shined in thick, elegant black letters. Travis watched me with pride, and then peered down at his titanium wedding band.
“We did it, baby,” he said in a hushed voice. “I still can’t believe you’re my wife.”
“Believe it,” I said, smiling.
He helped me from the chair and I favored my right side, conscious of every movement I made that cause my jeans to rub against my raw skin. Travis pulled out his wallet, signing the receipt quickly before leading me by the hand to the cab waiting outside. My cell phone rang again, and when I saw that it was America, I let it ring.
“She’s going to lay the guilt trip on thick, isn’t she?” Travis said with a frown.
“She’ll pout for twenty-four hours after she sees the pictures—then she’ll get over it.”
Travis shot me a mischievous grin. “Are you sure about that, Mrs. Maddox?”
“Are you ever going to stop calling me that? You’ve said it a hundred times since we left the chapel.”
He shook his head as he held the cab door open for me. “I’ll quit calling you that when it sinks in that this is real.”
“Oh, it’s real all right,” I said, sliding to the middle of the seat to make room. “I have wedding night memories to prove it.”
He leaned against me, running his nose up the sensitive skin of my neck until he reached my ear. “We sure do.”
“Ow … ” I said when he pressed against my bandage.
“Oh, dammit, I’m sorry, Pidge.”
“You’re forgiven,” I said with a smile.
We rode to the airport hand in hand, and I giggled as I watched Travis stare at his wedding band without apology. His eyes held the peaceful expression I was becoming accustomed to.
“When we get back to the apartment, I think it will finally hit me, and I’ll quit acting like such a jackass.”
“Promise?” I smiled.
He kissed my hand and then cradled it in his lap between his palms. “No.”
I laughed, resting my head on his shoulder until the cab slowed to a stop in front of the airport. My cell phone rang again, displaying America’s name once again.
“She’s relentless. Let me talk to her,” Travis said, reaching for my phone.
“Hello?” he said, waiting out the shrill stream on the other end of the line. He smiled. “Because I’m her husband. I can answer her phone now.” He glanced at me and then shoved open the cab door, offering his hand. “We?
?re at the airport, America. Why don’t you and Shep pick us up and you can yell at us both on the way home? Yes, the whole way home. We should arrive around three. All right, Mare. See you then.” He winced with her sharp words and then handed me the phone. “You weren’t kidding. She’s pissed.”
He tipped the cabby and then threw his bag over his shoulder, pulling up the handle to my rolling luggage. His tattooed arms tensed as he pulled my bag, his free hand reaching out to take mine.
“I can’t believe you gave her the green light to let us have it for an entire hour,” I said, following him through the revolving door.
“You don’t really think I’m going to let her yell at my wife, do you?”
“You’re getting pretty comfortable with that term.”
“I guess it’s time I admit it. I knew you were going to be my wife pretty much from the second I met you. I’m not going to lie and say I haven’t been waiting for the day I could say it … so I’m going to abuse the title. You should get used to it, now.” He said this all matter-of-factly, as if he were giving a practiced speech.