“I can take the bandage off later tonight. Since it’s only black ink and small, then it doesn’t need so much time,” I explain.
He hasn’t stopped glancing at the design since he picked me up. The tattoo is visible through the Saniderm bandage. It’s a few stars along the line from my wrist bone and up my forearm. They’re small, and you would only notice if you were searching or happened to catch a glance.
But it isn’t the stars that has him sentimental. I added tiny letters and numbers inside the stars. One is the initials of my dad, SC. Another star has the number 19; my husband’s jersey number when he became my husband. That was a bit of a surprise for him, and me too, as I wasn’t planning on it, but it felt right.
“I’m speechless,” he reiterates again.
“I’ve noticed,” I tease him.
Connor cups my cheek with his hand, drawing a circle on my skin with the pad of his thumb, holding my gaze as he kneels down before me, his eyes full of intention. My heart is on a rollercoaster, as he has me transfixed.
“Hadley Spears. I know you are kind of already my wife, but marry me for real. Let’s have a real wedding, the kind you wrote about in your diary when you crushed on me when you were seven.”
I bring a hand to my mouth and gasp fake shock. “You mean a wedding with a unicorn theme and a magical cupcake tower?”
His laugh is deep and magical. “Okay, we may need to re-examine a few things… but arealwedding? One that you deserve to remember."
My hands frame his face, and I dive my head down to kiss him. “I absolutely love that idea.” It’s always kind of bugged me that I don’t remember when I said I do or missed out on a few wedding traditions.
I throw my arms around his neck, and he falls back onto the sand, taking me with him. It doesn’t take long for Connor to lead us inside where we tumble and miss the bed, opting to fall on the floor without a care in the world. He finds his way between my legs, first with his mouth and then with his cock. Screw the fancy bed, we just need the floor when we’re this delirious with happiness.
Afterwards, we don’t move from the floor and remain in a tangled mess. “The moms are going to lose it,” he mentions, nearly out of breath.
“Oh, but we love it.”
* * *
It’sour last day of tropical life, but we can’t wait another night to speak to our parents. There is no sugarcoating it, Connor and I are family people through and through.
Connor and I get cozy around the breakfast table to ensure we both fit in the phone screen. It takes two rings before my mom answers, and not so surprising, Brielle is with her, as they normally have coffee on Saturday morning together.
“Hey! You two look like lounge lizards,” my mom notes.
“You both look good,” Brielle adds as she attempts to equal the screen share with my mom.
I smile. “Thanks. Look, we’re going to be quick. Don’t make a big deal about it, but I kind of know you both probably have been plotting this anyway,” I begin.
“We want to do a real wedding,” Connor finishes my sentence in a melancholy tone to mess with them before swiping a few fingers across his jaw.
The sound of shrieking instantly causes me to lower the phone and stare at Connor who is shaking his head ruefully. Bringing my phone back up, I throw on a polite smile.
“Say no more. We can get invites out, confirm our reservation at the Dizzy Duck, and ask Piper to design a dress that she may have already started,” my mom lists, and it causes me to burst out laughing because of course she had our neighbor designing a dress.
Connor gives them a thumbs up. “Cool. Just remember the father of the bride pays,” he jokes.
“Connor,” Brielle scolds him.
I see my dad peeking over their heads, attempting to see the screen.
“Can I talk to dad?” I request, and my mom hands him the phone. Connor takes my hand in his under the table to give me a comforting squeeze.
“Hey, princess. We’re going on the real wedding train, huh?”
“Yep. I can see Mom is going to be busy the rest of the day.” I indicate over his shoulder, as I can see in the background my mom already discussing plans with Brielle. In a strange modern-technology way, we have a bit of privacy. “Uhm, so I kind of did something while we’re down here.” I swallow.
My dad gives Connor a hardened look. “What the hell did you two kids do now?” He’s messing with us.
“This one is all her idea,” Connor promises.
