Page 5 of Exposed Ink

They must’ve put it all together while I was tattooing Brandon.

“I can’t believe my little girl is going to have a baby girl of her own,” my mom says with tears in her eyes. “I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become, and I know you’ll be an amazing mom.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, hugging my mom again.

The next couple of hours are filled with delicious food, conversation, and lots of laughter. Everyone insists we open the gifts, and once the baby shower is over, we pile everything into Brandon’s car since he insists on owning one despite living in the city. I guess it now makes sense why he pushed to drive us here this morning—he was in on the baby shower.

“What time do you guys leave?” Dad asks once all the gifts are loaded into Brandon’s trunk.

“Six a.m. I’ll text you guys before the flight takes off.”

We’re heading to Florida to enjoy the warm weather and beaches since it’s March and in the high eighties there, unlike New York, which is a chilly forty degrees.

Because I’m pregnant, we can’t really enjoy the theme parks, so we’re going to Miami Beach to lounge at a resort that looks to have a beautiful pool and is located right on the water.

“Sounds good.” Dad gives me a hug and kiss on my forehead. “I love you, Kins.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

After I give my mom a hug, Brandon and I take off to our townhouse in Brooklyn Heights. It was once my uncle Jax’s, passed down to my mom, who gifted it to Brandon and me when my parents made the decision to move out of the city.

“Should we bring everything in tonight or in the morning?” I ask when we arrive at home.

“Tonight, but you’re not lifting a finger,” Brandon says. “Go take a shower, and I’ll meet you in bed once I unload everything.”

“You’re too good to me,” I say, leaning over and giving him a kiss.

“No, I’m the right amount of good to you,” he argues. “I love you. You’re my family, Kinsley, and I meant what I said when we got married—I will do everything in my power to show you every day how much you mean to me.”

Brandon’s parents were addicts who lost their rights to their son. He grew up in foster care, and once he turned eighteen and aged out, he took off on his own. He apprenticed with some shady shops, and when he came to us, my dad got him on the right path. Now, eight years later, he’s a damn good, licensed tattoo artist.

“You do show me,” I tell him, palming his cheek. “Every single day.”

* * *

“Can we stay here forever?”I ask, glancing over at my husband, who smiles softly at me, knowing I’m full of shit.

As much as I’m loving lounging by the pool, swimming in the ocean, and checking out the different restaurants on the strip, I could never live anywhere but in New York.

“You would miss your family too much,” he says, pulling me in for a kiss. “But I promise we’ll come back.”

“Between this little one being born and us taking over the shop, it’s going to get crazy soon,” I say with a sigh.

“Yeah,” Brandon agrees, “it will, but in a good way. It’s supposed to be a surprise, but your dad and uncles are turning a portion of the back office into a nursery while we’re gone.”

“What?” I gasp. “Really?”

I’ve been so nervous about having a baby and running Forbidden Ink, but I haven’t mentioned it to my dad or uncles, not wanting to let them down. I agreed to run the shop before I found out I was pregnant, and it’s always been a dream of mine. They’ve even agreed to make me a small partner, so I’ll be earning a percentage of what the shop makes. My uncles are having the contract drawn up, and we’ll be signing it when I get back.

Brandon and I have talked about opening our own shop one day, but until we’re ready to do that, running my family’s tattoo shop is the next best thing.

“Yeah, we’ve got this, babe.” Brandon threads his fingers through mine and brings them up to his lips for a kiss. “You and me, with the support of your family.”

“They’re your family too,” I point out. “You know my dad considers you another son.”

“I know,” he says with a shy smile. “And he’s damn near the closest thing to a dad I’ve ever had.” He heaves a sigh. “I never imagined being this happy, this content. Thank you.”

The alarm goes off on my phone, the one I set to remind us when we need to head up to our room to get ready for dinner. Brandon made us reservations at an Italian restaurant I read is one of the best around. I love Italian, and I can’t imagine anywhere being as good as the places in New York, but I’m excited to find out.

---