Ugh. Who am I right now? I should be nothing but thrilled and grateful about Reed’s tattoo, not thinking, It’s not enough. The man inked our combined names onto his chest as a surprise gift, as a permanent testament to our love, and I’ve got the nerve to think, basically, Thanks, but I’d rather you put a ring on it? Shame on me. Plus, that’s so not me. I’ve never had any thumping desire to get married. I’m not the kind of girl who sits around dreaming of her future wedding. But I can’t deny I’ve had the thought. And, even worse, based on Reed’s expression, he knows it.
The air in the room feels thick and still for a moment, like an elephant wearing a sign that reads “Put a ring on it!” just galloped between us.
For a split-second, we’re both frozen. Red-faced and stilted.
“I want to get the same tattoo!” I blurt, pointing at his chest. Desperately trying to fill the awkward silence with something that will convince Reed he’s misread me. “We’re Fred and Ginger. We need to be a matched set. A promise of ‘forever’ will only work if both of us make it.”
Reed exhales with relief. It’s subtle. But it’s there. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do that.”
“I’m sure. I want to. In fact, let’s go right now.”
A wide smile splits Reed’s handsome face. “Sounds good. I need a shower, and then we’ll go.” Chuckling, Reed bends down and begins gathering his scattered clothes, so I follow suit, my heart stampeding. “I’ll call my usual tattoo guy now and tell him we’re on our way. After the tattoo parlor, how about I take you to a nice dinner to celebrate you submitting the Gates article to CeeCee?”
Our clothes gathered, we head toward the staircase.
“Actually, if it’s okay with you, I’d rather do a quiet dinner at home. That’s all I’ve wanted for five days. To be home, alone, with you.”
Reed takes my hand and squeezes it as we climb the stairs. “Have I ever mentioned you’re perfect?”
I swoon. “I’m so relieved you’re home. This house felt so big and lonely without you.”
We’ve reached the top of the staircase. Reed stops walking. He looks down at me, his dark eyes a window into his beautiful soul. He lays a gentle fingertip against my lip. “Now you know how I felt living in this big and lonely house for five years before you walked through the door and finally made it a home.”
Chapter 30
Reed
We’re back from the tattoo parlor now. Sitting in our comfy clothes at my kitchen table, eating Amalia’s delicious meal and drinking Cristal from crystal flutes. And, as Georgina eats and talks and repeatedly brings her fork and champagne flute to her lips, I can’t help staring at those tiny letters inked along the inside of her left ring finger... ReRiGeRi... and, to my surprise, thinking, over and over again, It’s not nearly enough.
What’s wrong with me? Matching tattoos should be more than enough! Especially considering Georgina got hers on that finger. The one reserved for a wedding ring. The one that tells the world she’s taken, for life. But, nope. I don’t feel the surge of pure elation I thought I would. I don’t feel sated. I still want more.
Georgina puts down her champagne. “I finished writing my article about you while you were gone.”
Shit. My gaze jerks from Georgina’s tattooed finger to her eyes, as my spirit thuds into my toes. To be honest, I’ve been dreading Georgie’s article about me for weeks. I’ve asked to read her early drafts, seeing as how she let me do that with her Gates article, but she’s always said no. “I want to surprise you,” she’s told me. And now, holy shit, the “surprise” is finally upon me.
“I’d like to send it to CeeCee tomorrow,” Georgina says, unaware of the intense anxiety brewing inside of me. “I’d love it if you’d read the article tonight and let me know what you think about it.”
“Sure thing.”
“I had such a hard time writing this one. You know, getting it right. I kept going back and forth on what information to include. What to exclude. It was important to me that the piece has journalistic integrity and a strong voice. I didn’t want it to be nothing but a sappy love letter to my boyfriend.”
She smiles. But I can’t muster one in return. Now that I love Georgina more than life itself, now that her dreams are mine, how could I possibly nix a single word of this damned article—even if she’s included information about me I don’t want to share with the world? If I’m forced to choose between supporting Georgina’s career and ambition, versus guarding my own need for privacy and control, how could I possibly choose anything but what Georgina wants?