by M J Marino
“Very good. I’ll be right back.” Chef Jordan rushes back toward the kitchen.
Maceo takes my left hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing my ring finger. “I want to go shopping today.”
My heart jumps. “If you’re thinking of taking me ring shopping, think again. Call me old-fashioned, but I want you to pick it out.”
He looks up from my hand and gives me a wolfish grin. “Oh, don’t worry, baby. I got it covered. I want to do something a little…different.”
I cock my head. What does ‘different’ mean?
Chef Jordan brings our beverages, and we dish ourselves breakfast, complimenting the chef for another delicious meal. He sucks up our praises. I excuse myself to feed Hades. He’s been at my feet, drooling all through breakfast. After Hades has gobbled up his meal, I take him to the bedroom to nap while we’re gone. I meet Maceo outside by the SUV, and he helps me into the vehicle, climbing in beside me, and taking us into town.
Twenty minutes later, I’m scowling in the beauty department of Walgreens. Maceo pulls tube after tube of lipstick out, trying to match one to my lips. “Um, why are we doing this?” I ask for the millionth time.
Maceo smiles and shakes his head. “I’m not telling. It’s a surprise.”
My scowl deepens. “I thought the point of wearing lipstick was to color your lips a different shade, not match it.”
“All will be revealed in time, Pixie,” he says with a chaste kiss to my cheek. “This is the one.” He walks to the check-out and purchases the cosmetic.
“Are you sure? I mean, you skipped a whole row right there,” I goad, sarcastic.
“Nope, this is definitely it,” he says with a smile, ignoring my slighting. He hands me the lipstick. “Here, put it on.”
I read the name and snort. “Toasted Rose. What’s it supposed to be? A sun burnt flower?” I apply the lipstick, rolling my lips together to smooth out the nonexistent color difference.
Maceo pulls out a piece of white paper from his pocket and slaps it against the wall. “Kiss it,” he commands.
“You fucking kiss it,” I hiss back.
Sometimes his authoritative behavior is sexy, and other times I want to kick him in the butt. Right now, I’m ready to swing my foot into his ass.
He chuckles. “You’re damn cute when you’re feisty. Please, humor me and kiss the paper.”
Sighing, I pucker my lips and kiss the piece of paper, leaving behind an impression of my lips.
“Perfecto,” Maceo says. He nods for me to climb back in the SUV. I huff and puff and plead for him to fill me in on what he’s planning, but he won’t budge. He wants to surprise me. And surprise me he does when he pulls up to a tattoo parlor.
I roll my eyes. “Really, Maceo? We’re having a romantic getaway, and you want to get new ink that will take God knows how long,” I bitch, climbing out of the SUV. I slam the door with a little more force than necessary.
Maceo is full-on belly laughing which chaps my ass. “Trust me, Pixie. This will be worth it.”
Like a stubborn child, I fold my arms and stomp into the parlor. Inside it’s way more sterile-smelling than I imagined and very clean. At least he picked a good place to have work done.
A burly looking Black dude with full sleeves and big gauges in his ears approaches us. “Well, look what the devil dragged in,” the Black man says with a smirk. He comes up to Maceo and gives him a huge brotherly hug.
Maceo smiles. “Hey, Darnel. Good to see you.”
“Man, you didn’t tell me you were coming into town. I would have taken the day off,” he says with regret.
“I’m actually here with my fiancée, and I wanted to get a special piece done for her,” he says, nodding at me. “Come here, Josephine, and meet one of my SEAL brothers.”
Shocked he addressed me as his fiancée, I come to his side and hold my hand out to Darnel. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Darnel takes my hand and pulls me into a big hug. He’s a great hugger. He steps back to look at me. “Hello, beautiful,” he says with a bright smile. He looks back at Maceo. “‘Bachelor for life,’ huh, bro? Yeah, fuck that when a beauty like this walks your way.”
“She definitely flipped my switch,” Maceo admits with a proud smile, eyeing me.
Darnel slaps Maceo on the back. “Congrats, brother. I can’t wait for the big day. When is it?”
“He proposed today. There’s no date set,” I answer, but Maceo goes over my head. “End of the month if I get it my way.”
“The hell it is, asshole. I’m only getting married once, and it’s not going to be some half-ass rushed shotgun wedding. You will wait until I feel like it’s fucking perfect,” I snap.
Darnel barks a laugh. “She swears like a SEAL! Oh man, I can see why she’s got you hooked. Okay, okay. What’s the ink you want done?”
Maceo pulls out the lipstick mark and holds it out to Darnel. “I want my pixie’s lips on my heart. It’s her favorite spot to kiss me, and I want her name tattooed underneath.”
My head whips to attention. “Say what?”
“I also want a wedding band on my left ring finger, with the name Pixie on it,” he continues, ignoring my surprise.
Whaaaat? I grab the sides of my head. Tattooing me all over his body is definitely an upgrade in the relationship department. I guess it hasn’t sunk in my head we’re engaged and getting married in the very near future.
Why wouldn’t he want to have a piece of me tattooed on him? Thinking about it, I can definitely say this is very fitting of Maceo’s character.
“Oh, this shit will be easy,” Darnel says, waving us back to his station, ignoring the other patrons who have been waiting patiently for his services.
Maceo pulls his T-shirt over his head, and I catch my breath. I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of seeing Maceo shirtless—ripped torso and bulging muscles galore. He sits back in the reclining chair, handing Darnel the paper with my lipstick. “I want it this shade since this is her natural color.”
“No problem,” Darnel says, getting the gun ready.
Maceo nods for me to come to him, patting his thigh. “Sit with me, Pixie.”
Eager as always to be close to him, I crawl in his lap and lean my head against his right shoulder, giving Darnel an unobstructed work space. Maceo rubs his hand up and down my back while Darnel works on permanently attaching my lips to his chest.
Darnel has me sign my name on the paper so he can match my penmanship. If Darnel ever needs a new career, he could easily be a forger—he copies my signature perfectly.
My eyes well up seeing a piece of me going over the spot where Maceo holds my love.
Once Darnel finishes, Maceo sits up and looks at it in the mirror. He turns to look at me and gives me a wink, dissolving the clothes right off of me. He sits back down, inclining the chair, and leans his left hand over the table in front of Darnel.
I look on in amazement. “How long have you been doing this?”
Darnel doesn’t look up from his work. “Eight years. Maceo was the first one to let me work on him. I’ve done all his ink since.”
“He does the entire crew. Only Darnel is good enough for us,” Maceo adds.
Darnel gives Maceo a simple band around his finger, with Pixie on top in calligraphy. I’m suddenly jealous Maceo has all these personal things of me on him and I don’t have anything.
“I want a tattoo,” I announce.
“No,” Maceo say.
“Excuse me!” I say, putting my hands on my hips.
“No, baby,” Maceo repeats, shaking his head.
Darnel sniggers, shaking his head as he works.
My arms fold over my chest. “I’m sorry, but I wasn’t asking for permission.”
“Not that I want to get in the middle of a lover’s quarrel, but Maceo doesn’t want you to cover up your perfection when you’re already a work of art,” Darnel adds, winking. “Sucks for my business, but I get it.”
“Exactly. I love how her skin is f
lawless,” Maceo tells him. “It’s fucking pure, like an angel.”
“And you’re the devil covered in your marks,” Darnel finishes for him.
Well, that pisses me off! I huff my disappointment, trying not to let either one of them see how flattered I am by their comments about perfection—which I’m far from—but hell if I’m going to point it out to either of them, especially Maceo.
“All I would have gotten was your name inked across my ring finger like you did,” I whine.
Now we look weird with him having an inked band and me having nothing. Perhaps I’ll come back without Maceo to have it done. But seeing Darnel is in cahoots with my man, I may need to go somewhere else.
Maceo takes my left hand and kisses my ring finger. “I love you the way you are. If you really want a tattoo, I won’t stop you, but don’t get one because I’m getting one. Tattoos should not be made rashly. Think it through to see if your heart is set on it, and take your time picking out exactly what you want. I’ll bring you back to Darnel if you’re hell-bent. The only reason I got my first one was to cover up a stab wound from a sting operation gone South. Now, every one I pick is symbolic.”
I pout. “I think a ring is pretty symbolic.”
Maceo smirks, like he’s got a big secret, and kisses my hand again.
Darnel wraps up and swats Maceo’s hand away when he tries to pay. “Make it up to me by having an open bar at the wedding,” he says with an impish grin.
“Well, there’ll definitely be open bar,” Maceo says, giving me a pointed look, daring me to argue. I shrug—hell, I’m all for open bar; no argument from me.
Darnel laughs and sweeps me up in a crushing hug. He give Maceo a brotherly hug as well. “Now hurry up and marry her before she comes to her senses,” he teases Maceo.
“On it,” he says with a chuckle, pulling me out of the parlor and back into the warm sun of late morning. He kisses the top of my head, swings his arm around my shoulder, keeping me close. He walks to the SUV and helps me in before driving us to Flatiron Reservoir.
Maceo helps me from the SUV and keeps me snug against his side, walking to a rocky beach. It’s beautiful out here and hardly a soul in sight.
Out of the blue, Maceo drops to one knee and takes my left hand. I’m caught off guard since he’s already proposed. He pulls a ring out from the front pocket of his jeans.
“Let’s make this official, shall we,” he says with a wink, sliding the ring onto my finger. “Thank you for making me the happiest man alive.” He stands and takes me by the waist, pulling me against him, and kissing me amorously.
When we finally come up for air, I’m panting and clinging to his biceps. He spins me till my back is to his chest, and he holds up my left hand, letting me finally see my engagement band.
I gasp. It’s the shape of a flower—a solitaire round clear diamond is in the center, with six black diamonds surrounding it. It has me written all over it.
“The center diamond was from my mother’s engagement ring and the black diamonds are from a crucifix belonging to Abuelita Lucia. I wanted you to have something from all the people who’ve made me who I am. And I wanted it to represent us.
“You’re the clear and pure one who is the center of my universe, while I’m the dark and wicked one surrounding you completely in my love. I thought the flower pattern was very you,” he explains with his chin resting on my shoulder.
“It’s perfect,” I murmur, tears rolling down my face. “It’s more than I could have hoped for.”
Maceo turns my chin ‘till I’m looking up at him. “You love it?”
I nod and smile. “Almost as much as I love you.” I reach up on my tippy toes and kiss him.
Maceo lifts his arm in front of us and snaps a picture on his phone.
“Proof I got you to agree to marry me,” he says with a wink. He snaps another picture of the two of us laughing, holding up our ring fingers proudly.
Chapter Fourteen
Maceo
“She said YES!” I holler out of the SUV’s window, pulling up to the rental after our weekend away.
My crew charges the SUV and yanks us both out, cheering and whistling like fucking frat boys at a rush party. Hugs and kisses for Josephine, and I get harassed and back slapped.
Hades jumps out of the window, barking and growling at all my men, defending me like the good boy he is. I rub his head to calm him down, and off he runs to the backyard. I’m swarmed once again by my brothers.
They all know I’ve been planning on proposing for weeks. It was a matter of finding the right place and time to pop the question. When Josephine asked when I had the ring made, her jaw dropped—I had it made the week after I got back from our mission, only three weeks after we met, but I’ve been planning it since day one.
Once I had the idea to take Josephine away for the weekend, I knew operation pop-the-question was a go. Apparently, all my men did too because they’re prepared, pulling out a beer keg, starting up the grill, and setting up tables. The bunnies fill them with platters of food to celebrate our engagement.
All the MC girls surround Josephine, examining her ring and asking how I popped the question. I smile at how sweet she is with all of them, including Candy.
One thing about Josephine I love is she gives everyone the benefit of the doubt, and that extends to the woman who has tried for the past year to get in my pants. It takes a lot for her to push someone away. I guess it’s why she has given me chance after chance to prove myself to her.
I smile and turn to Gauge. “This is cool of you guys. I appreciate it and I know Josephine does too, but how did you know I asked her?”
Gauge grins. “Chase. He saw you took some pictures on your phone of the two of you with the ring on her finger.”
“Hope you don’t mind, but I uploaded that picture of you guys to our company website. I cropped it to only show your hands, but I thought showing a more domesticated side to our crew would maybe help our image and the business,” Chase says, shrugging.
I smile and nod. I like the idea of showing the world my bride. The fact it’s only our hands makes me feel better. I don’t want our faces out there. Keeping her safe will always be my top priority.
“Which reminds me, Atlas, you went to Darnel to get the new ink and didn’t ask me to go?” Punk points at my ring finger.
I fist my hand and show it off proudly. “Fuck yeah, I did. Got my woman branded all over me,” I say smugly, lifting up my shirt and showing off my chest with her lips.
“That’s fucking sweet,” Gauge says, admiring the originality of my new tat. He looks over at Opal and back at me. “I may steal your idea if I find myself as lucky as you and Jo.”
I smirk. “We’ll make it a club thing. Have our old ladies’ lips tattooed on us.”
“You will not use that fucking awful title when talking about me,” Josephine yells from across the yard where she’s still hanging out with the bunnies.
Gauge and I bust a gut. Oh, she’s going to be hearing it a lot, maybe not from me, but from others. I will not call her that if it truly offends her. Right now, I’m proud as punch calling her my fiancée.
Damn. Josephine is my fiancée. How did I get so fucking lucky?
I look at my best friend with a smile. “Gauge, we’ve done everything together since boot camp. Care to follow me again as my best man on my biggest day?”
“Honor as always, brother,” Gauge says, clinking his beer cup with mine. We both down them in one gulp.
I nod at Chase and Punk to get their attention. “You two are standing up in the wedding as groomsmen, and I don’t want to hear no bitching. If Josephine says we’re wearing monkey suits, we’re wearing the fucking monkey suits.”
Gauge laughs at both of them because now he won’t be alone in dressing up. Chase folds his arms and curses, but Punk smirks. “Monkey suit or not, I’ll still look better than all of your sorry old asses. I’ll be like fucking James Bond up there next to you all. And it’s going to land me
all the available pussy,” he says.
“You’re only three years younger than me,” Chase snorts. “Old asses my ass.”
“Whatever! Women want a man not a boy, Chase,” Gauge barks out in a laugh.
“I’m fucking twenty-four. Man enough to give it to them all night long while your thirty-year old ass will be a one-and-done,” Punk fires back.
Next thing I know, Gauge and Punk are in a wrestling match on the ground. The rest of my brothers are taking bets and egging them on.
Chase swings an arm around my shoulder, pointing to our two best brothers. “You know how you know if you’ve had a successful party? When a fight breaks out,” he chuckles.
I roll my eyes skyward and get in the middle to break up my brothers. A beer is placed in their hands. They laugh before bickering about which of them was winning the wrestling match before it got broken apart.
Josephine’s retreating figure catches my attention and I jog over to her. She’s staring at her phone with a frown. “Pixie, baby, what is it?” I ask, wrapping my arms around her. She holds her phone out to me. The name ‘Dad’ is displayed on the screen.
Well, shit just got interesting.
Josephine told me on day one she hasn’t spoken to her parents since she left California. The fact he’s reaching out to her now seems unusual.
“Did you, like, call up my dad and ask for his blessing, or some shit?” she asks, confused.
“Fuck that tradition! You’re a grown-ass woman who makes her own decisions. I don’t need his blessing. Plus, you were already mine to begin with. I don’t give a fuck if your parents don’t approve.”
To be honest, I never gave a thought to asking her father. In some ways Josephine and I are old school, but for the most part, we’re pretty progressive. I can’t help but feel maybe I should have reached out to her old man.
Josephine and I are about to get married and, regardless of the hurt feelings she is harboring toward her family, she would want them there on our wedding day. Maybe this would be a way to rebuilding the bridge between them.
I rub the back of my head in frustration. “Fuck. I should have asked your old man for his permission and blessing.”
