House of Payne: Tag

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House of Payne: Tag Page 29

by Stacy Gail


  If she didn’t throw up all over them first.

  “Okay, this is it.” Stopping just outside her door, Payne turned and nailed her to the spot with a hard stare. “Pep talk time. You know you’re fucking amazing, because you’re here. Not only are you a kickass artist, I taught you everything I know. Under this roof right now, there is no one better than you at what you do. Except me, but that doesn’t count, so don’t worry about it. Now get in there and sling some ink. See you in four hours.”

  “Right,” she whispered, but he was already jetting off to somewhere else, leaving her alone.

  All alone.

  Taking another calming breathing—and checking her hands to see if they were as steady as she needed them to be—Ivy opened the door and automatically turned on the occupied light. “Hi, welcome to House Of…” she stopped dead as she stared at the huge man lounging comfortably on a padded table that was clearly too small for his frame. “Tag?”

  “Hey, tiger.” Smiling broadly at her open-mouthed shock, he began unbuttoning his shirt. “How’s your first day on the job going so far?”

  “But wait, you…” She kept staring at him. Any minute now things were going to start making sense. “You’re my client?”

  “Yup.”

  Alrighty, then. “Did you know you were going to be my client this morning when we woke up together, kissed each other good morning and had amazing, mind-blowing, sleepy sex?”

  “Yup.”

  “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

  “That would’ve spoiled the surprise.” Still smiling, he shrugged out of his shirt, and the familiar terrain of the sexiest chest in all of Chicago was laid bare to her. A newish addition—the key with the puzzle piece—was in the center of his chest, just as the corresponding heart-shaped lock was in the center of hers. “So… surprise.”

  A huff of laughter burst out of her, along with all the tension. “I’ve been so nervous about tattooing my first official client, and I’ve imagined a thousand different scenarios. But I have to admit, I never pictured this.”

  His look as so smug it should have been outlawed. “Good. You ready to sling some ink?”

  Suddenly all the nerves went away. “Absolutely. I can’t wait to get my hands on that body of yours.” Then she remembered what she was taught to say. “Er, I mean, Mr. Taggart, thanks for choosing House Of Payne. Do you know what design you would like today?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” Chuckling at her professional tone, he pulled a folded piece of sketch paper from his pocket. “Remember last week, when I asked you to create a tiger’s face for me because I didn’t think I did a good job on the tat design I made for the House? I lied.”

  Her jaw seemed to be permanently unhinged as she stared at the tiger sketch she’d done for him. He’d asked for as much detail as possible, so she’d given him her best, even though he’d refused to give her any explanation of why he’d wanted it other than wanting to see her personal vision of what a tiger truly looked like.

  Never had she imagined he’d wanted her work so he could permanently mark his body with it.

  “You’re my tiger,” he said, bringing her attention back to him. When her stunned gaze met his, he smiled a smile that took her breath away. “So my tiger is going to put her image, her ferocious beauty, right here on my left shoulder and upper arm, and every time I look at it, I’ll think of you. So let’s get to it.”

  “Tag.” Her eyes wanted to tear up badly, but then she wouldn’t be able to see what she was doing, and that was the worst thing in the world for a tattooist. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, you know that?”

  “It’s a gift.”

  She laughed. “Modest, too. I landed myself a real winner.”

  “Hell, yeah, you did.” He winked at her, looking so damn flirty and hot with his shirt off and his amazing pecs just begging for her hands and lips… “Now, you gonna get started on this, or can you think of some other way you can keep me occupied for the next four hours?”

  The man certainly knew how to give her ideas. “When you’re right, you’re right. I’ll take that,” she added, plucking the tiger sketch from his fingers and bending to give him a quick, tantalizing kiss. “I’m going to make a couple stencils of this to see which size best fits the area you want to have inked.”

  “Remember, I’m an XL.”

  “As if I could ever forget, honey.” Laughing under her breath, Ivy headed for the stainless steel workstation, her eyes on the sketch. There was a faint fold line through the tiger’s chin that would probably show up in the stencil, but she could easily ignore that and just…

  She froze in the process of reaching for the tabletop stencil maker, and for a second she couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing.

  Sitting on top of the machine was a black velvet box.

  Holy shit.

  “That wasn’t exactly the reaction I was hoping for.” As if from far away, she heard Tag’s voice a moment before she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Then he was turning her around to face him, one arm snaking out to snag up the box. “We haven’t talked about this, so I don’t even know where you stand on the idea of us making it official. But you need to know that when I’m with you, every day is better than the last. I didn’t know life could be so wonderful that I literally can’t wait to see what the next day holds for us. Not me. Us. You brought magic to my world, Ivy, and I want to keep that magic going for the rest of my forever.”

  The joy that exploded through her was so intense it was a wonder he couldn’t hear it. With a smile so big it pushed happy tears from her eyes, she offered him her left hand and saw it was shaking. It would definitely take a while for her to start with his tattoo now. “I don’t know if I can guarantee every day will bring the magic, but I can guarantee you the rest of my forever, because that’s all I want—to spend the rest of my life with you. Will that be enough?”

  “It’ll do for a start.” Sliding the ring on her finger, he bent and captured her mouth with his.

  Eighteen months later

  “Oh God, I don’t believe this. My mani is chipped.”

  Hearing the panic in Minnie’s voice, Ivy dropped her bouquet of peonies and lilacs in a nearby slipper chair and grabbed up her friend’s hand.

  “Whew. It’s just the tiniest little nick on the corner, hon. No one’s going to notice.”

  “I noticed. It’s on my ring finger. It’s a sign. It’s a sign this wedding shouldn’t happen. It’s a mistake. It’s doomed. We’re all doomed and everyone’s going to die.”

  Wow. “And I thought I had bad jitters when I got married. Minnie,” Ivy went on when her friend began to hyperventilate. “You and Shamar are perfect together, and you know it. Didn’t you say you were like cookies and milk? Both are okay separately, but together you’re delicious?”

  “Did I say that? I shouldn’t have said that. Why do you listen to me when I’m making stupid analogies? Stop doing that.”

  “Uh-huh.” Not for the first time that day, Ivy wondered if it wouldn’t be wholly inappropriate to slap the hysteria out of bridezilla. “Want me to fix your nail?”

  “No.”

  “You hungry? I could get you something.”

  “No.”

  “We should probably get your shoes on…”

  “No.”

  Ivy stifled a sigh and searched for the right words. “If you don’t finish getting ready now, your mom’s going to be in here in five minutes and she’ll do it for you.”

  Minnie couldn’t have looked more horror-stricken if Freddy Kruger had suddenly appeared. “Nail first, then shoes. How’s my makeup?”

  Ivy pulled out her trusty matron-of-honor’s magic bag of everything, “You’re gorgeous. Shamar’s never going to forget the vision of you walking down the aisle to make him the luckiest man in the world.”

  “I just can’t believe I’m doing this.” Minnie sounded on the verge of tears as Ivy went to town on the teeny chip with a nail fil
e. “My whole life I knew I was destined to get married, so it was never a big deal. By the age of fifteen I had my colors picked out. By eighteen the menu had been decided and the seamstress to make my dress was on speed dial. The guest list has been set in stone since before I was born. None of that affected me in the least, so I don’t get why I feel like I’m about to throw up.”

  “Because you care.” Smiling, Ivy evened out the curve of the nail, and like that, the chip was gone. “You were never emotionally invested with Hyun, but Shamar is a different story. You want this to work. You want him to feel the way you do, and above all, you want to get your happily-ever-after with the one man who taught you just how much you’re capable of loving someone, not just with your heart but with your soul. It’s no wonder we’re all nervous wrecks by the time we walk down that aisle.”

  Minnie’s breath hitched. “You were nervous when you got married? You didn’t seem like it. The only thing I remember you saying was that if you had to do it all over again, you probably wouldn’t have planned a New Year’s wedding, because it was hard for everyone to get tux rentals.”

  “Of course I was nervous. Right up until I saw Tag waiting for me, I was scared right out of my shoes. Then I saw him smiling at me as I walked toward him, and that was it. Everything clicked into place, and all was right with the world.” It was a moment she’d never forget; up to that point, she’d been dead certain something was going to go wrong to prevent her from achieving the happiest moment of her life—the minister wouldn’t be there. Some snafu was going to happen with the license and the filing would be all wrong. Tag would leave her at the altar.

  That was a biggie. She’d had nightmares about that one.

  But everything had gone off without a hitch, and the crazy anxiety of somehow being cursed when it came to losing loved ones vanished the moment she said I do. Yes, she had lost everyone she had cared about, but those losses had only taught her how strong she was, and how important it was to have someone to love in her life.

  Without love, there was no life. Just existence.

  Tag had taught her that, and so much more.

  A quick knock on the door made them both turn even as Ji pushed through. In a dusty pink dress the same color as the peonies in the bridal bouquet, she looked every inch the mother of the bride.

  “I’m going to kill your father,” she announced without preamble, winding the tension back up in the room to screaming levels. “It’s taken me all this time to talk him in to wearing his morning suit. We called all the way from Tampa to a formal wear store here in Chicago just so we could rent that stupid thing for three hundred dollars. And today, just now, he decides he wants to wear his casual country club gear to walk you down the aisle. He says the suit makes him look paunchy. He is paunchy, but no one cares. Can you believe that man?”

  Ivy cleared her throat while Minnie stared at her mother as if she were an alien that had just popped out of a spaceship. “We’re all set here, Mama Ji. Are the guests arriving?”

  “What? Oh. Yes, the pews are filled to capacity, so it looks like it’s going to be standing room only.”

  “I’m going to throw up,” Minnie announced. “Right here and now, I’m going to spew like I’ve never spewed before.”

  “Don’t you dare, think of the dress.” In a heartbeat, Ji was by her daughter’s side, fanning Minnie’s face with her beaded clutch. “You couldn’t be more beautiful, my girl. I’ve dreamed of this happy day for you from the moment you were born, and not even my greatest dreams could compare to how magnificent you look now. So don’t you dare throw up and ruin everything.”

  Now there was a typical Ji compliment if she’d ever heard one, Ivy thought wryly. “She’s good, Mama Ji, but if we could just get things going, I really think that would be for the best.”

  Ji took the time to reach out for Ivy’s hand to give it a squeeze. “I’ll see what I can do to get things started. You’ve got Minh until I get back?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “We should have eloped,” Minnie said the moment her mother had disappeared through the door. “Seriously, we should have. I mean, my life has been a lot less stressful since Mom and Dad retired and moved to Florida, you know? Yun Hee’s got Clawsome, I’m working only part time there and spending the rest of my time at Keep Grinding with Shamar. Life has been good. Then that crazy woman comes back to Chicago, and I’m ready to scream.”

  “They’re leaving tomorrow, and so are you and Shamar for Bermuda for two sexy, fun-filled weeks.”

  “But that means I still have twenty-four hours of not killing my mother to look forward to. If only the package deal I got for our honeymoon had us leaving today instead of tomorrow,” Minnie whimpered. “I can’t believe I’m going to spend the first night of my married life with my parents no more than fifteen feet away, bunking up in our living room and munching on their low-sodium popcorn while they watch The Golden Girls reruns.”

  “Yeah, about that.” Again Ivy dipped into her bag and pulled out a small folder. “I couldn’t stand the thought of your first night as a married couple being spent at home with house guests, so this is a present from Tag and me—an overnight stay at The Mark’s honeymoon suite, complete with concierge service. And don’t worry about getting there, because there will be a limousine waiting for you after the reception, just as there will be one waiting for you at the hotel tomorrow morning to take you and Shamar to the airport. By the way, I strongly recommend the rooftop garden and their private cabanas. Let’s just say they’re unforgettable.”

  “What?” Minnie’s mouth sagged open before she grabbed for the folder to verify everything Ivy said. “Oh my God, Ivy, thank you!”

  “My pleasure, sweetheart.” The last part of it was semi-buried in Minnie’s neck as her friend launched into her arms, and Ivy had to work to make sure her lipstick didn’t smear on Minnie’s white veil. “What are friends for?”

  “You’re more than my friend, you’re my sister, and I love you so much, and I’m starting to cry and ruin all my makeup, but I don’t even care because you’re the best person in the world and I’m going to love you forever.”

  Ivy laughed at the gush of words and hugged her back. “Good, because I’m going to love you forever, too. Now, let’s do a last-minute check to make sure you’re all set. I’m ready to party, and that reception is going to be off the hook.”

  He had to be getting too old for parties, Tag decided as he skirted the packed dance floor in the middle of the hotel’s main ballroom. Not that he’d ever been the party type; the music was always too damn loud and making small talk should be internationally outlawed as cruel and unusual punishment. Hell, he and Ivy hadn’t even gone to their own reception. He’d been fine with the idea of throwing a big bash for all the people who’d chosen to celebrate their special day with them, but he’d told Ivy straight up that the moment they were hitched, he had every intention of taking her to the nearest bed, and after that, Paris.

  Come to find out, Ivy had been all for it.

  But this was one reception he hadn’t been able to dodge. It helped that he genuinely liked the Daos, and Shamar was a fucking riot. But that didn’t mean he still wasn’t looking at his watch and estimating when he could grab his woman and get the hell out of there.

  Maybe if he asked her to fake a headache…

  “Hey, handsome.” A warm hand curled around his, and he turned in surprise even as Ivy gently tugged him on to the dance floor. “Wanna dance?”

  “With you? Always.” He tucked her in close, his mouth curving as she reached high up to link her hands behind his neck. He’d gotten better at dancing, because life with Ivy had brought so many occasions for him to do it. Laughing, hugging, dancing… These were the things that made up his world now.

  That was life with Ivy.

  “If we were alone,” he said, not bothering to lower his voice because the music was so loud, “I’d do this dance up right by grabbing your ass and grinding you against me. If there was eve
n a little bit of privacy…”

  “Listen to you.” Her laugh feathered across his nerves, fanning the flame that was always ready to leap out of control where she was concerned. “If I’m reading between the lines right, you’re just about ready to get out of here, aren’t you?”

  She was a fucking mind reader. “Those exit signs are looking real good right about now.”

  “In that case, we should probably go on up to our room.”

  That made him blink. “Our room? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I got the idea when I was making reservations for Minnie and Shamar. They’re at The Mark and away from this insane crowd, but I thought if they can enjoy being spoiled in a swanky hotel room for the night, why can’t we?”

  “We live only twenty minutes away.”

  “So what? This way, we can get as drunk as we want, party as much as we want, and when we’re ready to head up to our room, we can have as much sex as we want. And,” she added, shifting so that she could dip into her clutch to pull out a hotel keycard, “that last part is just one quick elevator ride away—much shorter than twenty minutes. What do you think of my plan?”

  “I think my wife’s a genius.” He didn’t need any more convincing, plucking the keycard out of her fingers with one hand and tugging her toward the nearest exit with the other. Out of the corner of her eye he saw Ivy hastily wave her farewells to the happy couple, but he didn’t slow his roll. Hell, if anything, their leaving might signal to Shamar that it was high time to grab up his woman and get his honeymoon started.

  You’re welcome, Shamar.

  “Now this is what I’m talking about.” Minutes later, Tag escorted Ivy into the open living room area of the suite she’d surprised him with. Absently tossing the keycard on a nearby credenza, he moved to the night-darkened wall of windows overlooking the city, the outline of Lake Michigan made clear by the lights running right up to the darkness of the shore’s edge. “Baby, you did this up right, you know that?”

  “I’m so glad you approve.” Her smile was still in place as she went to the coffee table, where a silver champagne bucket sat alongside a tray with two champagne glasses and another tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries. She pulled a champagne bottle out of the ice, then gathered up the two glasses in her free hand before moving to where he stood. “I want this night to be memorable.”

 

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