I’ve never been interested in tatting up my body. A biker without a club, my uncle Moot is tatted from neck to ankles, and Keanu’s stepdad is a walking piece of art. Dad has a few smaller tats including “Candy” over his heart that Mom teases the fuck out of him about. So while I’m not against inking my body, I’ve never had anything I wanted to look at for the rest of my life.

Audrey comes from a different lifestyle where tat-less men are pussies and proving your love means marking your body with the other person’s name. Cooper Johansson has a tat on his wrist of Farah’s name followed by their children’s. I hadn’t thought much of the tattoo when I saw it in passing. Dad, though, drops a little knowledge on me when we run into each other in the kitchen during Audrey’s second night at the house.

“She’s sleeping,” I say when he asks about her.

“In your room?”

“Of course.”

“Be careful with that. You have no idea what she’s like when on the rag. The girl might go psycho and need her space.”

“Then she can go hang out in her room.”

Dad smiles at my tone. “So she’s the one, huh?”

“Yep.”

“How certain are you? Like on a scale of one to ten.”

“Ten with the pedal down.”

“Fine, then you’ll want to get her name on your wrist.”

“I’m not her dad, and I’m not sure I want her thinking of him when we’re together.”

“Johansson didn’t come up with that tattoo himself. He copied his father. His brother copied Kirk Johansson too. The men who married the Johansson sisters also copied the name tat. It’s their way of saying the broad in their bed is permanent.”

I look at my wrist. “Is this a real thing or are you trying to get me to do something stupid?”

Dad fights a grin. “Wouldn’t be the first time I pranked you.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” I grumble, thinking of the time he talked me into a buzz cut that made my head look too small for my fucking body.

Dad likely remembers that same incident because he chuckles. “Never saw such an ugly angel.”

“It was hilarious.”

“Yes, it was, but the tat thing isn’t a prank,” he says and finishes his apple cider. “I know Johansson is tantruming over you stealing his baby. He thought marrying her off would be so fucking easy because the older one almost got hitched. You’re not that dentist, though. I just think he and his family might take you more seriously if you showed respect for their stupid fucking traditions.”

“It is stupid,” I say as he nods and starts to leave. “Real men tat their wives’ names on their chest.”

Dad stops, refuses to look back at me, and then begins walking again. Grinning, I watch him disappear into his room.

Despite still worrying the tat story is a prank, I get one while Audrey’s at work. Keanu demands to join me so he can mock any signs of pain I reveal.

“I think I can handle six fucking letters,” I tell him while we wait at the tattoo shop.

His black eyes shining, he smirks. “Prove it.”

An hour later, I admire Audrey’s name on my flesh. I’m also very relieved her parents didn’t name her something stupid like Cricket. That’s not a word I want to be inked on my body. In fact, I should probably mention that fact to my sister the next time I see her. She’s been feeling way too cocky lately.

“Should I get Lottie’s name tatted on my body?” Keanu asks after we leave.

“Only if it’s a tramp stamp.”

“Dude, I already have your name with an arrow pointing downward.”

Flexing my fist, I grumble, “This is why people think we’re boyfriends.”

“No, the way you stare at me in awe is why they think we’re boyfriends. My indifference to you is why they think we won’t last.”

“You’re a funny little fucker, Short Round.”

“And you flinched so much during the tattoo that I nearly handed you the tissue box.”

“I didn’t flinch,” I growl in my most threatening tone.

Keanu doesn’t even pretend to fear me. “Whimpered too.”

“Bullshit.”

“Well, whatever. I just know the version of the story I’m telling.”

Keanu isn’t kidding. The moment Lottie appears from the restaurant after her shift, he spins a tale of a sobbing giant and his good buddy who wiped away the tears. She laughs at me, but I tell them both to shut the fuck up so I can surprise Audrey.

I wait outside the Kitchenette, wishing I could blow on my tender wrist. Despite Keanu and Lottie having walked away, I worry he might be still hiding nearby. If I show pain, he might jump out and mock me. Or take a picture to send to my family. Hell, it’s exactly what I would do if our roles were reversed.

Audrey walks out of the Kitchenette and shivers violently. She really isn’t a fan of the cold. I’d offer to stick her inside my jacket and lug her around like she’s a baby except I doubt she’d agree.

“You don’t even want to know what they’re serving today,” Audrey says immediately and glances around before whispering, “Something with flaxseed and spinach.”

“Fridays are vegan days.”

“Why?”

“Because no one cool eats at the Kitchenette on Fridays, so Bianca Bella decided to give the night to her friend who’s a vegan chef. Lots of crunchy types show up.”

“So I smelled,” she says, covering her mouth as if afraid she’ll offend someone.

“This job is making you soft.”

“Whatever. Can we go?”

“Before we do, I wanted to show you something.”

Audrey smiles casually, and I love how comfortable she already is in White Horse. She even drove to work this morning with minimal instruction from me.

Pulling back my sleeve, I show her the tattoo. Audrey stares at the cursive letters before caressing the red flesh.

Her beautiful eyes lift to study my face. I wait for her to speak; suddenly nervous she’ll be offended by my effort rather than impressed.

“I want your dick in me,” she whispers.

Cupping her cheek, I smile. “You’re welcome. Now let’s get you naked.”

Audrey grabs my hand and tugs me toward my truck parked around back. I wish I could pick her up and run, but my cock is now so hard that I can barely walk. The drive home might be the most painful five minutes of my life.