Laughing right alongside her, I shrug. “What can I say? There’s just something I need to do before we go home.”
Cora cocks a brow at me and I know it is due to my casual reference to home. But she won’t argue with me. For us, home has never consisted of four walls, a floor and a roof. Home has always been when we are together. “Alright.”
We get out of the car and walk up to the storefront. I open the door and Cora’s eyes scan every inch of the tattoo shop. Luckily, this shop is open more hours than most due to the number of artists. I walk up to the counter and the woman that looks up at me shakes her head. She is the same woman from yesterday. Hot pink hair, the front half rolled up and pinned close to her scalp, the back half left loose to her shoulders. She blows a bubble from her gum and lets it pop like it’s second nature.
“Everything okay?” she asks. No hello or how are you. She must assume something is wrong with the tattoo I got yesterday.
“Everything is fantastic,” I say and she rolls her eyes. “I’d like to get another tat.”
“Oh,” she perks up. “Well, the same artist who worked on you yesterday isn’t here right now. You cool with that?”
“That’s fine. It’s nothing extravagant.”
After a few minutes, I fill out the same form again and give her my ID. Once the formalities are out of the way, a woman comes out of the back. Her right arm is decked out in a full sleeve of ink. From what I can tell, it appears to reach her back as well. Her hair is a rich, dark brown and she has it pinned in a messy bun with a folded bandana tied at the top. She has this whole 1950s pinup girl/rockabilly vibe going on.
“Hi, I’m Autumn,” she introduces herself and shakes my hand. “Looking for something specific today?”
“Gavin. Nice to meet you. Yeah, I want to get a wedding band tattooed on my ring finger.”
Beside me, Cora sucks in a sharp breath. No doubt she wasn’t expecting that. “Gavin, you don’t need to do that,” she says.
“I know, baby,” I tell her. “But I want the world to know I belong to you. And no one else. Always.”
Cora nods and doesn’t utter a sound. The tattoo artist, Autumn, guides us back to her booth and has me sit in the chair. Currently, Cora and I are the only patrons in the building. Not having people coming and going right now is nice and odd at the same time. When the gun sparks, Cora startles next to me. I reach out and she takes my hand.
Twenty minutes later, I stare down at the thick black band at the proximal end of my fourth finger. Tears sting the backs of my eyes as a thick boulder of emotion lodges in my throat.
“What do you think?” Autumn asks.
I clear my throat and croak out, “It’s perfect.”
Cora stares at me in awe and sheer amazement. Then her eyes flick to Autumn. “Have time for me?” she asks.
“Yeah, sure. Just fill out the paperwork and give me a moment to sanitize the station.”
Cora hops up and goes to the woman at the front. I amble behind her. “You don’t need to get ink unless you want to, baby.”
“I know. And I want to.”
I nod and watch as she fills out the consent form and provides her license. Ten minutes later, we are back in the booth and Cora is sitting in the chair. Her shirt is hiked up and rests on her bra. Thankfully, the only skin exposed is what anyone would see if she were in a bathing suit. Otherwise, I might have hovered over her worse than a parent of a teenager.
“You ready?” Autumn asks Cora.
She nods and takes my hand. When Autumn presses the pedal and the gun starts buzzing, Cora jumps a little. I draw circles with my thumb over her hand and try to soothe her nervousness. “It only hurts for a minute. Then it numbs a little from the vibration.”
The gun draws black lines on her skin just below her left breast. I sit mesmerized as Cora gets her first tattoo. It isn’t just the fact that this is her first tattoo, but what she decided to imprint her skin with. Autumn dips the gun in the ink then comes back to Cora’s ribcage.
When Autumn swipes some of the excess ink off, I squeeze Cora’s hand a little tighter. Cora peeks up at me, her smile brighter than the sunrise this morning.
“You okay?” she asks.
“I didn’t think this day could get any better. But I was definitely wrong.”
“Wait until you see what I do next.” Cora giggles.
Wait, what? Is she getting another tattoo? Maybe she means something completely unrelated. Something when we leave here.
Another ten minutes pass before the tattoo gun is set down and Autumn is cleaning the tattoo and covering it up. Just beneath Cora’s left breast rests my name in a feminine font. I am completely awestruck. It was one thing for me to get her name permanently etched into my skin, but I never expected her to reciprocate.
As I stand dazed, Cora asks me to go to the waiting area. For a moment, I am confused and ask her why.
“It’s a surprise. Please,” she pleads.
I nod and walk out to the waiting area, plop down onto the couch and grab a magazine. Every time I hear Autumn’s tattoo gun spark to life, I peer toward the back of the studio. All I see is Autumn’s head hunched over Cora.
What is she getting now?
Forever passes and I haven’t heard the tattoo gun spark up in minutes. I toss the magazine to the table and rise from the couch. After I wear a new pattern into the linoleum floor, Cora walks back out to the waiting area. I pay and we walk out the door. The walk to the car is silent and I am dying more than ever to know what else she had done.
Once we are in the car, I ask, “So, what else did you get?” For whatever reason, I am more antsy now than I was when I asked Cora to marry me.
Cora faces me and juts her left hand toward me. On her ring finger, where her engagement ring sat less than twenty minutes ago, is a black band of ink that matches mine. It is slightly thinner, but otherwise mirrors mine. “Baby…” I whisper. “You didn’t need to do that. I got you rings.”
She nods and smiles. “I know, but I want the world to know I belong to you. No one else. Always.” Cora throws my sentiment from earlier back at me. It steals my breath and kick-starts my pulse. Thank god we are in the confines of her car, otherwise I may have hit the ground. When I glance down at her right hand, I notice she has moved her engagement ring to that side. She takes stock of where my eyes focus and answers before I ask. “I’m only wearing it on my right while it heals. Promise.”
The fact that she worries if it bothers me her engagement ring sits on her right hand is adorable. Honestly, which hand her ring is on is the furthest thing from my mind. Right now, I want to take her home and make love to her until our bodies give out. Celebrate that we are finally getting the happily ever after we deserve after so many years apart.
Today, Cora permanently gave herself to me as I have her. With each passing second, the day gets better and better.
I nod. “Let’s go home, baby. I’m dying to make love to my fiancée.”
Twenty-Three
Cora
November 21 - Seven months later
“Come on, Cora. You do not want to be late today,” Shelly yells from the living room.
“I’ll be out in a second,” I yell back at her. I scan the room, checking every surface to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything. Satisfied, I grab the two bags on my bed then turn and walk out of the bedroom.
When I enter the living room, I glimpse my best friend who is currently trying to wear a new pattern into the wood floor with her heels. She mumbles under her breath, but stops when she spots me.
“Did you feed Luna?” I ask.
“Yes. Everything is done. You ready to go?”
I glance down and inventory the bags in my hands. “Ready,” I answer. “Erin picked up the other totes and food already?”
“Yeah, she left a few minutes ago.”
I nod. Shelly and I grab our purses, I give Luna one last pat and kiss, then we head out the door. We deposit the bags in her back seat and jump
in the front. Seconds later, we are on the road and driving toward Sand Key park.
I stare out the window, take in the blue skies, fluffy white clouds, and sparkling sunlight, then thank the weather gods for keeping everything perfect today.
The weather has turned cool, but it isn’t cold yet. Thanksgiving is right around the corner and this year I am thankful more than any year prior. For destiny and Gavin and the best circle of friends a person could ask for. Too often, we take life and the people we see daily for granted. After losing Gavin and getting him back, I take nothing for granted. Each day, I thank my lucky stars life brought us back together.
Over the last seven months, the emotional scale of our friends was all over the place. One day they loved us. The next, they freaked out. Shelly questioned me for hours once I flaunted my engagement ring. She had seen all my tears. All of them. She experienced my pain. Both times. And she wanted to be sure I wasn’t acting on a whim. That I hadn’t said yes because I felt pressured by the question or situation.
Everyone thought the engagement and us getting married was too soon. Irrational and foolish. That we should wait. Give it a year or so. Especially after rekindling what we once lost. Spend more time learning the adult versions of each other.
“You can’t rely on your feelings from the past, Cora.” Shelly had said. And I don’t.
What I felt for Gavin in our early teen years is nothing compared to what I feel for him now. Circumstances ripped us apart. Tested our strength and ability to love. Time had been our enemy, but also our saving grace. Without time apart, Gavin and I may have become complacent in our relationship. Grown apart. But time hardened us. Made us see the world and life and love in a different light.
When we each hit a point in our lives of numbness, of not caring about anything aside from daily monotony, fate brought us back together. Showed us how life could be if we gave us another chance. The short road was rocky, but our hearts knew from day one.
Hints of skepticism floated in the air from our friends, but every time they saw us attached at the hip with rosy eyes, their doubts were squandered.
Now when I look at my friends, all I see was happiness. For me. For Gavin. And for what we have together.
In no time, we drive into the park and weave around the outskirts. Shelly drives to the designated location, not far from the beach parking, and parks the car.
Soon, we have all the bags out of the car and in the makeshift dressing room. Shelly attacks me with makeup brushes as soon as my butt hits the chair. I close my eyes and let her do her magic while I go to my happy place—Gavin. As Shelly swipes a soft-bristled brush over my cheek, Erin walks into the tent.
“Hey, ladies. How’s it going in here?”
Erin is dressed in a knee-length bloodred lacy dress with a nude underlay. Her curly red locks are pinned up in a loose chignon while a few long strands frame her face. Her makeup is subtle and accentuates her freckled skin. Shelly has her hair pinned in the same fashion. And soon, Shelly will don the same dress when she finishes my makeup. Seeing my best friends like this is surreal. For the longest time, I never thought a day like today would be in my future.
“We are on schedule. How’s everything else?” Shelly asks Erin.
Erin gives two thumbs up. “All according to plan.” Before I can ask what according to plan entails, Erin sneaks out of the tent and leaves.
Shelly continues the task at hand. I follow her hands with my eyes and wish there was a mirror nearby for me to catch a glimpse. Considering I barely wear makeup in the first place, it seems as if she put every product from Ulta on my face. As if she reads my mind, she meets my gaze and smiles.
“You don’t need to worry about anything. Today will be perfect. Take a deep breath and let everything happen how it’s meant to.”
I nod, close my eyes again, and let her work her magic.
One breath in. One breath out.
Gavin
Standing on the semi-warm sand, I wriggle my toes through the soft grains as I peer over my shoulder at the closed-off tent.
Shelly’s car is parked just outside the tent, so I know my girl is inside. What are they doing inside that small tent? Can’t be much based on the size. And how much longer will I have to wait to see her? I check my watch. Thirty minutes. Only thirty more minutes and she will stand beside me.
I stroll farther down the beach and out of the view of the tent. Popping my earbuds in, I crank up my music and stare out at the water. Feels like it has taken us a century to reach this exact moment, but the day has finally arrived. Finally.
Fifteen years ago today, my best friend became something greater than I could fathom at the time. Something bigger than my fourteen-year-old brain could comprehend or imagine. She became the love of my life. Honestly, she had been since day one, but I wasn’t equipped to understand such things.
If we had been together the whole time, no doubt married before now, we would celebrate our fifteenth anniversary today. But rather than celebrate this day as boyfriend and girlfriend—an antiquated term—today, we will officially become husband and wife.
Cora will be my wife. Mine. Forever.
The second everyone found out we were engaged, the first question that popped up was “Have you set a date?” We hadn’t discussed dates, but, funny enough, we both blurted out November 21 at the same time. It was our day. Always will be. Until death do us part, and beyond.
Someone taps my shoulder and I turn to see Mom as I take an earbud out. “Hey, sweetie. You should probably get in position. Things will start soon.”
I nod. “Thanks, Mom. Love you.” I kiss her cheek.
She kisses the air next to my cheek, careful to not smear her lipstick on me. “Love you, too.” After a quick hug, she walks off and joins everyone else not in the tent.
I wander toward the makeshift aisle, arch, and chairs. Cora and I are far from traditional. But our style resonates in every flower arrangement, decor piece, and article of clothing we all wear today. We kept the number of attendees to a minimum—twenty people, including Cora’s maid of honor and my best man. On the aisle side of each row of chairs is a small bundle of black calla lilies and red roses—identical flowers to Cora’s bouquet and the boutonnière flowers. Although Erin isn’t in the wedding party, we got her an identical dress to Shelly since she is taking photos for and with us.
The arch at the end of the aisle is decorated in black and red sheer fabrics and flowers. Cora’s mother and Shelly did an awesome job with the floral arrangements. They truly scream us and our style. As does our ensemble for the day. Although I have yet to see her dress, Cora and I are both in black. While Shelly and Micah are in red.
I slip my earbuds in their case and set them, and my phone, with my other clothes.
Before I grasp the gravity of it all, I walk down the aisle, bare feet crunching in the sand and heart jackhammering in my chest. When I reach the arch, I spin and stand in my place. Hands clasped at the front of my waist.
Micah walks up and stands beside me and pats my shoulder. “You nervous, bro?”
I stare down the aisle and shake my head. “I’ve been waiting for this day my entire life. Just can’t wait to call her my wife.” Those words hold so much truth.
As soon as the words leave my lips, the music starts. “Back In Black” by AC/DC blares from the setup speakers and echoes off the water. This song has nothing to do with weddings or love, but is one-hundred-percent us.
Gavin and Cora.
And the best fucking song to replace the traditional wedding march.
My breath comes in sharp bursts as I fumble with my fingers, eager to see her. One, two, three heartbeats later, Cora steps around a sand dune and I stop breathing. Dress black as night, several layers of tulle ghost the sand as she grips her father’s elbow and walks toward me. The V-line bust of her dress is vintage lace that comes to a point at her solar plexus and also decorates the length of her arms. And just below the hollow of her throat is the locket her mother
gave her years ago. A locket that now holds pictures of us.
“Fuck, she is gorgeous,” I mutter and a couple people laugh. But I give no fucks. Cora is absolutely stunning and I refuse to take my eyes off her.
That is my wife. Mrs. Cora Elizabeth Hunt. My best friend. My lover. My life.
Cora
I round the sand dune with Dad on my arm, catch sight of Gavin near the arch, and suck in a breath.
Goddamn. I am one lucky-ass woman.
Gavin stands clad in a long-sleeve black button-down, the top two buttons undone, and black dress slacks. His red rose and black calla lily boutonnière rests above his left breast pocket. A thin layer of stubble accentuates his jawline as his hair kicks up with the occasional breeze. And the second he sees me, he bounces a little in place.
At the end of the aisle, Dad clings to my arm and gives me a quick squeeze. “Ready, pumpkin?”
I peek up at him for a split second, then revert my eyes back to my husband—husband—twenty feet away. Am I ready? I have been ready for this moment for as long as I can remember. “Yeah, Daddy. I’ve been ready.”
We both take a deep breath, then Dad slowly guides me down the aisle and closer to Gavin. The love of my life. The man I don’t ever wish to live a day without. The other half of my soul.
When we reach Gavin, Dad gives me a kiss on the cheek, unhooks his arm from mine, and goes to sit next to Mom.
Gavin and I lock eyes and the world around us disappears. The only other person in our bubble is the ordained minister. He begins speaking the preplanned speech, but neither of us hears a word of it. We are both well aware we don’t have lines to speak for at least another minute. Until then, we drink each other in. Bask in the love we share.
I love you, Gavin mouths.
I love you too, I mouth back.
“Gavin and Cora have prepared their own vows and will read them to each other now. Gavin…” the minister says.
Time Exposure (Click Duet #2) (Bay Area Duet Series) Page 17
