A heavily tattooed man—at least I assume he’s heavily tattooed, because even his thick beard and man bun can’t hide the ink curling up out of the collar of his shirt—wraps his arm protectively around the woman to the left of me.
“You just wait.When he finds out I knocked you up, he’s gonna send his goons down for a shotgun wedding.”
“Shhh.I’ll tell him when we’re ready.Not a minute before.”The woman covers the tattooed hand on her belly with her own as she looks around.She catches my gaze on her and raises an eyebrow.“You’re sworn to secrecy.I may not look tough, but I was a mob princess before mob princesses were cool.”She blinks.“Wait, maybe they’ve never been cool.Okay, yeah, scratch that.We’re still not cool.At least, I’m not.”
The tatted-up guy’s body is visibly shaking with laughter.“Calm down, cupcake.I’m sure they’re not going to narc on you.”He turns and holds out his hand to me.“I’m Bishop.This is Eden.I can also attest to the fact that she’s pretty damn cool.”
Boone and I both shake his hand.“I recognize you.You had a spread inInked Lifethis month.”
Eden claps her hands.“That’s definitely him.See, babe, you’re famous now.”She glances at Boone’s tattoos, also not completely covered by his suit.“You should come down to NOLA.Voodoo Ink is thebesttattoo shop around.”
Boone looks over at me.“Maybe if I can talk her into marrying me, we’ll head down there as a honeymoon.I’ve always loved New Orleans.”
I elbow Boone in the ribs, but softly.Kinda.“Would you stop saying that to people?”
“What?That I’ve been carrying around a ring for three weeks, but you still won’t give me an answer?”
I roll my eyes.“Don’t listen to him.He isn’t carrying a ring.He just likes to joke—”
“Oh, sugar, someday you’re gonna realize I don’t joke around with shit when it comes to you.”
I shoot him a shocked look, but secretly I’m thrilled because I’ve got a newly recorded song on my phone, finally perfected and ready for Boone to hear.
Eden looks from me back to Boone.“Looks like you’re going to have some interesting conversations after this.”
Boone pulls me into his side.“Every conversation with this woman is interesting.”
Before I can reply, a ruckus of some sort breaks out at the entrance to the tent, and two security guys have a third man by the arms.
“Get your fucking hands off me.”The restrained man is the epitome of tall, dark, and scarily handsome.
Creighton hands Rose to Holly and strides toward him.
“What the hell are you doing here, Cannon?You weren’t invited.”
A hush sweeps over the crowd in the tent, and the two men eye each other like they should be holding pistols at twenty paces, or however many paces dueling pistols require.
“We need to talk, Crey.”
“And you decide my daughter’s baptism is the right place?Get the hell out.”
The older man, Dom, watches the scene with interest.
“Just hear me out.”
“I don’t have to do a damn thing.”
“Five minutes,” Cannon says from between clenched teeth, and I get the feeling this is taking a toll on his pride.
Holly steps up to Creighton’s side.“Talk to him.But do it somewhere else so our guests can enjoy the afternoon and not watch the two of you beat the hell out of each other.”
Creighton’s stiff posture doesn’t relax, but he strides out of the tent with a clipped “Follow me” tossed over his shoulder.
Once they’re gone and the crowd in the tent resumes chatting quietly, Holly, Greer, and Cav join Boone and me where we stand with Eden and Bishop.
“Anyone else want to lay odds on how that turns out?”Greer asks.
Cav looks down at her.“Really, babe?”