She laughed. “Smartass.”
I transferred the stencil onto her skin and held her wrist up so she could see it.
The little ice cream cone fit perfectly.
Simple.
Cute.
The three scoops stacked neatly on top of the waffle cone.
It looked like Josie. Sweet without being childish. Fun without trying too hard. Something she’d look at years from now and remember this moment. That thought hit me harder than it should have.
Years from now. Jesus.
“You like it?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh. Yeah, that is perfect.” She looked up at me quickly. “I love it.” Relief washed across her face. “It’s stupid how much I love it.”
“It’s not stupid.”
Her fingers flexed against my hand.
“It’s just...” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Try.”
Josie stared at the stencil. “My whole marriage, I kept waiting.”
I stayed quiet.
“Waiting until we had more money.” She laughed softly. “Waiting until Bruce thought it was a good idea.” Another laugh. This one didn’t sound happy. “Waiting until someday.” Her eyes lifted to mine. “And then someday never came.”
Something ugly twisted in my chest.
Not jealousy. I wasn’t jealous of her ex.
I pitied the dumb bastard because sitting here with Josie in front of me, smiling at a tiny tattoo she’d wanted for years... I couldn’t imagine looking at her and telling her no.
“You don’t need permission anymore,” I said.
Her throat bobbed. “I know.”
I wasn’t sure she did. Not completely, but she was getting there.
I switched on the tattoo machine, and the buzz filled the room.
Josie tensed.
“Relax.”
“I am relaxed.”
“You look like you’re preparing for surgery.”
She glared at me. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
