Page 149 of Done Waiting

An evil grin covers her face. “My ass—”

“Hell no,” I roar. “No one sees that ass except me.”

She throws her head back, laughing hysterically. I glower at her, but she doesn’t stop.

Finally, she composes herself. “I was thinking of getting one on my hand. I really want one that matches yours but says ‘dark hero’ and has the date we got married around it.

Tugging her against my chest, my smile is wide. “I love it. Absolutely.”

“And, maybe one other, smaller rose.” I raise my brows, knowing what she’s going to say before she says it. Her wordsrace out of her, blinking rapidly. “One to cover the scar on my chest.”

“Baby girl. That scar doesn’t mar your beauty. It enhances it.” My hand slides to it, the delicate fabric of her dress between the blemish on her skin and mine. “You survived.”

“I know. But it’s also a reminder that my mother tried to shoot the man I love. The man she damn well knew I adored from the conversation that took place in that wretched cabin. Yet, she tried to rip you away from me, caring more about power and drugs than my happiness.” Tears are in her eyes, causing agony to course through me. The only tears I want in my woman’s eyes are from happiness.

“Why do you want the tattoo?”

“I want a Melody Rose, just like the ones from the bush my father planted for me that you picked and left for me. I want the only two men who have ever truly known and loved me to cover the stain of the woman who didn’t.”

“Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?” My forehead presses against hers. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. Even beating out my mom.” Closing my eyes, I breathe her in before opening them. “I’m fucking sorry the Ice Queen was a piece of shit mother to you. But you’re worth isn’t defined by her in any way. You know that, right?”

“I do. Because of you.” She kisses me, and we lose ourselves in each other until my phone beeps.

“Fuck. We’ve gotta go.”

Maddie reaches up, wiping the lipstick off my lips, before reapplying it on her lips. Smacking them together, she tosses the tube onto the vanity beside the mirror and hurries over to me. “I’m ready.”

“I’ll walk you downstairs to Ryan. Jason, Bryce, and I will head to the arch.”

As I open the bedroom door and we step through it, she smiles. “I’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

EPILOGUE: MADDIE

I watch as the tattoo artist works his magic on Jagger’s skin, putting the finishing touches on it.So damn beautiful.My gaze lifts to the dark eyes that always watch me with love and possession, my entire body warming beneath his gaze. This is his third tattoo. He decided to get another one on his other hand to celebrate our one-year anniversary.

When he’s finished, Jagger holds out his hand, and I take it. He helps me onto the table, and as the tattoo artist sets to work, he holds my hand, squeezing it, talking to me to distract me from the pain. I’m getting a rose on my ankle, matching the small one on my chest.

“How’s it feel now that you’ve spent a year as Mrs. Jagger Brandt?” Trent, the tattoo artist, asks when Jagger pauses.

“Amazing.” My gaze slides from his to my husband’s. “I never tire of him.”

“Thank fuck.” Trent laughs. “He wouldn’t care if you did. He’s slightly obsessed.”

I laugh as Jagger rolls his eyes. “Do either of you expect anything different from me?”

“No,” Trent and I say in unison.

When we’re finished, and Jagger has paid, he wraps my hand in his, leading me outside to his truck. The warm spring air kisses my skin as we walk, the sounds of birds chirping filling my ears. I look at the sky, watching the wispy clouds float by.Hi, Dad. You were right.Love is all that matters.

Lowering my head, I can’t help but notice the small smile curving Jagger’s lips as though he knows I’m talking to my dad. His gaze locks on mine, and he squeezes my hand.

“My dad was right,” I break the silence as Jagger holds the passenger door open, helping me inside. “Love is all that matters.”

Jagger’s smile is beautiful. “Yes, he absolutely is.” Leaning forward, he gives me a soft kiss. “Love is the only thing that matters.”

Stepping back, he shuts my door and heads to the driver’s side. I watch him, my gaze hungry, taking in his muscular body. He follows a strict workout routine, packing on more muscle as if to ensure he keeps anyone who intends me any harm away simply by scaring them half to death when they glance at the monstrous man beside me. Since we’re rarely apart, the odds of someone harming me are slim.

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