Page 160 of Breakneck Hockey

Since

IV. XX. MMXXIV

The Roman numerals are reminiscent of the tattoo I have to honor my dad.

“I don’t remember approving of two tattoos.” My declaration was finally Jack approved and he wanted to collect on their bet. I made Jack tell me his plan before he abducted my boyfriend, but I liked the idea of having a permanent mark on Casey.

He bites his lip. “I thought you’d like it?—”

“I love it.” I wish I could run my thumb over it. I can’t wait to rip the Saniderm off it. “I’m adding Property of Brat Cat with the date to mine.”

“Are you ever gonna show me yours?”

I got mine a few days ago but refused to show him until he had his done. I remove my shirt. Over the place where my heart lives is an exaggerated cat-scratch tattoo. He’s always scratching me up. Now he’s engraved over my heart forever.

“I fucking love that, but yeah, it needs the label so people know that this means you’re mine.”

“Whatever you want, kitten.” I kiss his lips. I already missed them. I was getting fucking antsy without him.

Jack disappears into the garage with the baby. Rhett saunters out with a couple of brewskies from inside. “You’re back.” He shakes his head. “Can’t you get married like normal people?”

“You have noticed that your husband’s covered in tattoos, yes? He’s gonna wanna get one with you at some point,” I inform him.

“I’m sure Logan has enough tattoos,” Rhett says.

“What do I have enough of?” Logan says, wandering out from the garage, twirling an extra-large wrench. There’s grease streaked across his face and his coveralls are tied around his waist, showing off his toned skater’s body. Rhett’s right, Logan makes for a hot mechanic, but he’s nothing like my Alderchuck.

“Sutterchuck got weird tattoos. We don’t need those, do we?” Rhett noses under Logan’s collarbone.

Logan twists his lips. “I thought it might be nice to get something. I was thinking about having our wedding date written on my ribcage.”

I don’t think Rhett’s ready for a tattoo, but if Logan wants it, he’ll do it. “I already own you on paper.”

“That’s not what a marriage certificate means, gorilla.”

“It sure as fuck does, Mr. Elkington.”

Logan rolls his eyes, gripping Rhett by the biceps, turning his attention to me. “Your bike is ready, Sutter,” he says. “Purrs like a kitten.”

Casey smirks, probably thinking about the last time I made him purr.

“And you think she’s highway-worthy?” I ask. I have visions of Casey on the back of my bike, arms wrapped around my waist, his hair blowing behind him from under the helmet as we conquer the open roads.

“Definitely. I made a few adjustments, so you won’t have to stop for gas a thousand times.”

Casey groans. “You can’t still be thinking about taking me to camp with you. I’m not a good camper. I’ll be a worse camp counselor.”

“It’s already arranged, kitten. Too fucking late.” His head falls against my chest. “Besides, if you think I’m spending two weeks without you, you’re wrong.”

“As if, Sutter, but I don’t have to counsel kids. Don’t they have a hotel nearby or something?”

“Nope. You’re bunking with me.” I plan on pushing a couple of the beds together.

“We’re taking your bike, though?”

“Yep.”

“At least that’ll be fun.”

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