“Perfect.”
When Swan’s close to finishing, Heidi steps out with the baby and returns a few minutes later with Carter.
“Hey, girls,” Heidi says, grabbing everyone’s attention. She jerks her head toward the door.
“I’m still in my bathrobe,” I remind Heidi.
“Hope’s coming up to help you with your dress,” Carter says.
“What’s up?” I ask Carter when we’re alone.
“You look pretty,” he says in a thick voice.
“Don’t you dare cry.” I move from the window to the bed, patting the space next to me. “How’s Marcel?”
“Antsy.” He fidgets and runs his fingers over a slick black portfolio in his hands. “Murphy challenged him to an ax-throwing contest.”
“He what?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, they’re lumberjacking it up in your backyard.”
Nothing those two do surprises me anymore. “What’s that?” I nod to the portfolio he’s clutching.
He finally sits next to me and slowly passes the folder into my hands. “I made this for you.”
“Something from my favorite artist on my wedding day?” Excitement pushes my voice up a few octaves. “Gimmie.”
“It’s a multi-part gift.”
Eager but worried I’ll wrinkle it, I carefully pull the thick paper from the sleeve. Vibrant colors immediately grab my attention, then the details come into focus. A skull with coins over its eyes wearing a crown of flowers. Rays of sunshine illuminate the background. Majestic. Hopeful.
“Carter,” I breathe out. “It’s beautiful.”
“I can not tattoo ‘property of Teller’ on you, Charlotte. I can’t.” He sticks out his tongue in an extra-yuck face. “But—if you like this, I’ll ink it for you.”
“Really?” I squeal. “I love it. It’s perfect. It incorporates Marcel’s patch, his role in the club, and his name for me all into one brilliantly beautiful piece of art.” I sit forward and hug him. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”
“I felt bad that I gave you a blanket no when you asked if I’d do a piece for you.” He lifts his hand and roughs it over his already tousled hair. “I know gifts shouldn’t come with conditions. But this one does.”
“I can’t get it inked on my lower back?” I guess.
“Well, that too.”
“Okay, what?”
“Teller has to get one too.”
“Matching tattoos, huh? I’m not sure if he has any free skin available.”
He scrunches his face into a yuck-frown. “He has a spot and I gotta tell you, inspecting your husband’s body was really low on my list of life priorities.”
I burst into laughter, squeezing my eyes shut so tight, one of my fake lashes sticks to my lower lash line. “Oh, crap.” I gently pry it loose. “I don’t want to ask Serena to fix that.”
“Sorry.”
“So, he was okay with you dictating his next tattoo, huh?”
He snort-laughs. “Yeah. He wants your name and anniversary too.”