Embraced in Ink: A Montgomery Ink: Boulder Novel

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  She did her best to be there for the person she was with, but sometimes, she had to focus on herself. It had taken a lot of therapy, and even more family time for her to realize that that was okay. Marcus had always understood. And the fact that she was somehow getting a chance with him after all this time? It had to mean something. Right?

  She let out a deep breath and finished her makeup before going back to her closet. She had a lot of clothes. A lot of shoes, and a lot of bags. Most of it was for work. She had to meet with dignitaries, and royals, and people who needed to see her in an elevated state, even if most of the time, she wanted to throw her hair on the top of her head and call it a day.

  Because of her shows, and thanks to Zia, she had learned to do her hair and her makeup and wore the uniform and costume that a world-renowned cellist would.

  But she didn’t always feel like that.

  Tonight, they were going to their favorite Thai place, something that wasn’t too fancy, but it also wasn’t run of the mill and fast food.

  They had pretty little white bowls and music playing over the speakers. There was never elevator music or pop, but soft, lyrical numbers.

  The place had waiters with crisp uniforms and white tablecloths.

  It was a place she and Marcus went to for celebrations, and sometimes, if they were having a bad day.

  They always took turns paying, even though she was well aware that she made more money than he did.

  They never let it be a thing between them, but now that they were getting married? They would have to talk about that.

  And about where they would live, and how many children they wanted.

  Her heart raced, and she bent down, hands on her knees. Okay, not the time to panic.

  Yes, there was a ring on her finger. She looked down at the antique setting and solid heart. But that was merely the beginning. They hadn’t talked about the basics, the actual logistics of it all. But that was what tonight was for. A start.

  The promise made, the promise kept, and the ring that encircled her finger was only the beginning. Tonight was a chance to follow the road to temptation and peer into a future that neither of them could have imagined.

  Because it was all good and well to say that they were engaged and getting married and using those words that still made her breath come in pants, but they needed to truly dive into their feelings and make sure that they were whole when they came out of this. And work on what they meant to each other. And, frankly, what was physically going to happen between the two of them.

  Bristol quickly pulled on one of her dresses, a cute red number with a flower pattern on it that had a deep neckline that showed a lot of cleavage. Well, not too much, but enough that it made her feel sexy and happy. It flared out at the hips, and almost resembled a wrap dress.

  She liked it because it could be casual or a little fancier, depending on what shoes and jewelry she wore.

  She was going for a middle-of-the-road look, so she added a little sparkle on her ears, and then a single rectangular pendant necklace that drew the gaze to her neck—and her boobs.

  She couldn’t help it, she wanted to look good for Marcus.

  Her fiancé. Her friend.

  And the man that made her nervous. A feeling she had never felt before. At least, not with him.

  That had to count for something. She knew it did.

  She took another deep breath and reached for her phone to check what time it was when the doorbell rang.

  She froze, her hands shaking. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  That had to be him.

  This was it. The moment. Another moment when everything could change.

  She should be used to it by now. But it was hard to think that she could be.

  The door opened, and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

  Marcus stood there in black pants, leather shoes, and a black button-up shirt tucked in. He’d rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, showcasing his very delicious forearms. She’d had that thought once before with him, the sight of his forearms doing something very dirty to her. She couldn’t help it, they were all muscled with a vein on each that stood out whenever he worked at anything. They were sexy as hell, and she hadn’t realized she had a fetish for forearms until now.

  That was good to know, wasn’t it?

  “You look amazing,” Marcus said, his voice husky, low. Dangerous.

  She licked her lips, aware she did it far too often in front of him. But the action drew his gaze straight to her mouth, so maybe it was a good thing she did that.

  “I was just thinking the same thing about your forearms.” She closed her eyes and groaned. “I meant you. But your forearms, too.”

  She opened her eyes and noticed he had fisted his hands, his forearms looking even more delicious.

  Dear God, was she going to faint?

  “My forearms?” he asked, laughter in his tone along with something darker, edgier.

  “I know. I didn’t realize I had a fetish. But here we are.”

  He threw back his head and laughed, and she relaxed immediately. This was her Marcus. She could be totally honest with him even if she was lying to herself. Because she couldn’t lie to him if she didn’t know the actual answers. Hence, honesty.

  “I called ahead to the Thai place and put our names down on the list in case they were busy. The guy was so excited we were coming in. We’re going to have our table.”

  “Do we go there too often for a place that doesn’t have reservations to know us by name?” she asked, grabbing her purse. Marcus reached around and closed the door behind her, making sure it was locked. It was something they did all the time, both acting as if they were so comfortable within each other’s homes. They didn’t even have to ask each other to keep each other safe.

  There was a sense of peace in that. Comfort. Even if it had all been upended by a single promise.

  “I think I want that damn soup, so the fact that we won’t have to wait for a table? Sounds pretty damn good to me.”

  Marcus reached out and slid his fingers between hers, and she squeezed his hand, feeling like she was home again. This was normal. Everyday. After all, they went out to lunch and dinner enough to this place to have familiarity.

  That was why she was so glad that they were spending their first date like this, rather than trying something new. Everything else was already off-kilter, she needed something steady.

  And it sure as hell wasn’t going to be her.

  “What are you getting?” Marcus asked as he helped her into the car. He closed the door behind her and jogged around the front. She shook her head.

  He always did that for her, even before the engagement. See? There was nothing awkward about this. She didn’t have to feel nervous.

  He sat down next to her, and she inhaled his scent, her nipples going hard.

  Okay, apparently, things were different.

  “I don’t know, probably a stir-fry of some sort. Although I want their spring rolls. Or just everything. I’m starving.” She paused. “I sort of didn’t eat today.”

  Marcus started the car and glared at her.

  “Why aren’t you taking care of yourself?”

  “I was working, and I was nervous, okay? Stop.”

  “No, I’m not. Because you need to take better care of yourself. You skip meals, and then you feel weak, and then you get crabby.”

  “You’re the crabby one,” she said and closed her eyes. “Sorry. This is a date. I probably shouldn’t be so rude.”

  “Then you wouldn’t be yourself,” he quipped, and she glared at him, only to notice that there was laughter dancing in his eyes. She flipped him off, and he laughed.

  “See? Now you’re flipping me off. It totally feels like a date.”

  “Are we being awkward about this? And not good at it?”

  He reached over and slid his hand across her knee. When he gave it a squeeze, she sucked in a breath, her panties going damp, and her
mouth drying.

  “Oh, okay, I guess we’re doing this. Okay.”

  They were at a stoplight, so he looked over at where his hand was on her skin, her dress riding up a bit. Shivers ran up her thighs and through the rest of her body, and she almost wanted to squeeze her legs together, trapping his hand. Asking him to go a little bit higher.

  Dear God, she was a hussy.

  “We’re fine, Bristol. Stop overthinking this.”

  “I wouldn’t be me if I weren’t overthinking.”

  “That’s the truth.” She glared at him again, and he rubbed her knee before turning back to the road and removing his palm. She did not want to feel bereft at the loss, so she ignored it.

  But when he reached out and gripped her hand, tangling his fingers with hers, her engagement ring shining in the glow of the streetlights, she let out a relieved breath.

  The two of them had always touched, had always held hands, but in the most platonic of ways.

  There was nothing platonic now.

  Oh, she knew their promise was only an excuse. At least, for her. She had no idea what he was thinking, and she was going to figure it out. But first? She was going to let herself fall.

  At least, a little bit.

  And hope to hell it wasn’t awkward in the end.

  By the time they sat at their favorite table, the owner coming out to see how they were, she was a bundle of nerves and practically squirming in her seat.

  She had always thought Marcus attractive, but it was as if there had been a barrier between them before so she didn’t have to feel like this.

  Now, she couldn’t help but pant and want more.

  She had truly lost her mind when it came to him, and she couldn’t help it. Every touch, every breath, every caress, simply his presence almost sent her over the edge.

  And this was only their first date.

  “Are my eyes misleading me, or is that an engagement ring?” the owner asked, looking down at Bristol’s hand.

  She froze for a moment before looking into Marcus’s eyes. She could have sworn she saw worry there, and then he smiled, a brilliant one that went straight to her core.

  She loved his smile.

  “We’ve been a little busy since we were last here,” Marcus said smoothly.

  She was grateful that he’d spoken because there was nothing smooth about her right now.

  “Finally? Oh, yes. I’ve always known the two of you were perfect. Huh, always pretending to be only friends. I knew there had to be something more. Dinner’s on me tonight.”

  “Oh, no, don’t. Please. Thank you, but you don’t have to do that,” Bristol said quickly.

  “No, no. Dinner’s on me.” He turned. “My favorite customers are finally engaged. Soon, there will be babies and happiness, and even more family members wanting my food.”

  Bristol knew she was blushing from head to toe, and Marcus lowered his head, his shoulders shaking.

  Was he laughing at the fact that everybody was staring and clapping? Or at the fact that she was bright red like a tomato?

  She didn’t know, but she had a feeling she would make him pay for this later.

  The owner left after the chef brought out an order of spring rolls, tara wings, and nam sod.

  Marcus ordered his spicy Tom Yum Goong, while she ordered a Tom Kha Gai for their starters. Then they’d decided to splurge and share Choo Chee Salmon and basil chicken, each of them deciding not to go with curry for the night because they were already too full from the appetizers. However, the leftovers from this place were amazing, and her stomach couldn’t help but growl.

  She was moaning in ecstasy over her soup, and Marcus looked at her with amusement, shaking his head.

  “What?”

  “You constantly surprise me with your love for food.”

  She set down her spoon and tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you always go full-tilt at it. Even though I did just growl at you for not eating enough for the day.”

  “I am more than making up for it.” She patted her belly.

  “I’m already full over the appetizers and soup, but you know I’m going to eat like half of my dinner.”

  “And some of mine. I would probably eat the whole thing, but I know how much you love leftovers.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You like leftovers as much as I do.”

  “That’s true. And we usually end up watching movies and gorging ourselves on whatever leftovers we can and then order in even more through takeout.

  “Wow, don’t we sound like gluttons?”

  “We don’t do it often.”

  “Often enough.”

  They grinned at each other and continued eating, laughing at silly things while filling up on tasty and amazing food.

  “This is nice,” she said suddenly, hoping she was saying the right thing.

  Marcus looked at her, tilting his head. “Why, did you think it wouldn’t be?”

  “I thought it would be awkward and weird.”

  “We’re always awkward and weird. That’s us.”

  “But I don’t want things to change.” She closed her eyes. “That was stupid.” She opened her eyes again. “I don’t want us to change. Or at least alter the fabric of where we started.”

  “Then let’s not have that happen.”

  “Okay.” He reached out and gripped her hand, then ran his thumb over hers. “Let’s start with twenty questions. Or a few questions,” he amended.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Off the top of your head, what are important things to know for someone going into a marriage. Let’s start with that. Because we already know everything else about each other. We know our favorite colors, we know how we sleep, we know what our first cars were, our first crushes. We know our first boyfriends and girlfriends. We know all of that. Because we’ve lived it together. So, let’s go into what we want. What do we see our path becoming?”

  “That’s a really good idea. I feel like I should be taking notes.”

  He squeezed her hand, and she let out a little sigh. She loved when he did that. “We don’t need a notebook. Although, I’m sure you’re going to want to write it down later.”

  “You do know me.”

  “Okay, so, our future. You and me. What do you want to know?”

  “Are you okay if I don’t take your last name?” She asked the first thing that came to her mind. She had no idea why that was it, but there it was.

  Marcus nodded. “Professionally, you are Bristol Montgomery. And I know you and your family love your name like a clan. You’re even tattooed with it.”

  “With the Montgomery iris, not the name itself. You were there when I got it.”

  “I remember. On your hip. Right below where your panties usually lay.” His eyes darkened, and she swallowed hard.

  “You know, once we’re married, you should get it, too. Everyone that moves into the family gets it.”

  “Like a cult.”

  “It’s not a cult.”

  “Well, I think you need to call your dad because you’re in a cult.”

  “You listened to like three episodes of that podcast, and you make more jokes about it than I do.”

  He shrugged.

  “Pretty much. Okay, so I don’t need you to take my name. Unless you want to legally, instead of professionally. Or, you could even hyphenate it. Whatever you want to do. Because it’s not like ownership. You’re still going to be the same you, and I’m going to be the same me, and then we’re going to figure out what we are together.”

  “Right. I know that I can’t change it for work. It would be like a pen name at that point if I were an author like Liam.”

  “That’s true.”

  “And Arden and Holland and even Lincoln are all changing their names. I don’t know.”

  “I know one of your cousin’s husbands changed his name to Montgomery for his wife, but I’m not going to do that,” Marcus said, laughing.

  “Becaus
e your mother would hurt me if I tried to get you to do that. No, maybe I’ll hyphenate it.”

  “Maybe I will, too,” Marcus said, and she grinned.

  “Really?”

  “If we have kids, what name would you want them to have? If they have the hyphen, it might be easier if I do, too.”

  She froze, blinking. “I don’t know. I think that’s something we’ll have to decide when the time comes.”

  A pause.

  “You’ve always wanted kids, Bristol.”

  “You have, too.”

  She swallowed hard, and she noticed that he did, as well.

  “So, kids are on the table?” he asked, his voice low.

  “Yes. Kids are on the table.”

  And from there, they went through their lists as if they weren’t making such large decisions and talking about important topics that would send any other relationship off-kilter.

  But with Marcus? It was everything. She could breathe because she knew he was thinking about it, too.

  Because they weren’t going back. They were going forward, together.

  Somehow.

  Chapter 10

  Marcus slid his hand over his face and hoped to hell and back he could figure out what exactly he was going to do next. The date with Bristol? Pretty fucking amazing. Life-affirming even. Things just made sense between them.

  He knew that his artistic, brilliant, beautiful friend—fiancée, he corrected himself—needed to have complete lists before she could focus on what was important. The idea that the two of them could decide where their thoughts and needs and desires fit in with each other in the long-term meant everything.

  They had talked about the essential things, and he knew it was good for her to hear it. Him as well, if he were honest. However, now that they were back at her place, at least in her driveway, things were back to being off. She was sitting in his passenger seat, not looking at him.

  Not speaking a word.

  Nor was he talking.

  Well, hell.

  The way they sat in silence probably wasn’t the best way to finish the evening. If the evening ended soon at all. Did she want him to come in like before? Only he knew if he went inside, it wasn’t going to end like it had when they were merely friends. And if he went home? Fuck. He didn’t know.