Page 43 of Inked Daddies

I can’t argue with that, so I just smirk and turn back to Marie.

“What about you?” I ask her. “What’s your ride of choice, Miss ‘I Wasn’t Thinking About the Future’?”

She hesitates, glancing between me and Hugo. “I…don’t know,” she says finally, her voice soft.

“See?” Hugo says, gesturing to her. “She gets it. Life’s more fun when you don’t plan it all out.”

“Yeah, well, not all of us can stumble into things and come out on top,” I mutter, shaking my head.

Hugo’s offered to put me and Sam on salary more than I can count, and we’ve turned him down every time. It’s not that we don’t appreciate it—we do. But it feels wrong.

Before I hooked up with Sam and Hugo, I spent most of my youth on the road, bouncing from one place to another, chasing one thrill after another. I’ve seen enough of the world to know that what I really want isn’t out there.

It’s here. That’s the weird feeling I couldn’t pin down before. I didn’t recognize it until now, but that’s it. I want this. I want us. The four of us together. And now, with Marie sitting in front of me, smiling and laughing like she’s got the whole world ahead of her, I can’t help but think about what that “here” could look like.

I’ve never been good at planning. That’s Sam’s thing. He’s the steady one, the guy who keeps us grounded when Hugo’s scheming and I’m goofing off.

But at the moment, my brain’s doing something it’s not used to—planning for something more. And yeah, maybe it’s premature, but when I think about settling down, I can’t stop thinking about Marie.

Her smile in the morning. Her laugh at the dinner table. Her voice saying something sassy while she helps me with something I could probably figure out myself if I wasn’t so busy listening to her talk.

Maybe Hugo’s right. Maybe the best things in life really do happen when you’re not planning for them. I sure as shit wasn’t planning anything like this. So, if Marie’s one of those things, I’m not about to let her slip through my fingers.

Of course, there’s a catch.

Or in this case, several catches.

The biggest one? Preacher. He ain’t gonna like any of this, and we need him to. Since her mother’s death, Marie has been tight with him, so we gotta figure out how to make him happy about this.

The second biggest one is Sam. He won’t be settled until he knows Preacher is cool, and that’ll take time. But I’m sure we can make it work.

Hugo is obviously on board with all of this, and so is Marie. I think.

The last problem is me. When that thought strikes, it’s another gut punch. Mostly because it’s true. I’m not the kind of guy a girl like Marie ends up with. Not by a long shot.

I’ve done things that would turn her hair white and make her never talk to me again. If she ever found out…that’d be the end of this. I’m not worthy of someone as innocent as Marie, and that gnaws at me every time she smiles my way.

If there was ever a reason for me to turn over a new leaf, it’s her. Maybe that’s how I can justify this. She’s my motivation to stay on the straight and narrow, the reason I can be the good guy for once.

She’s looking at me again, her cheeks pink, her eyes bright, and I can’t stop myself from grinning.

“Guess we’ll figure it out as we go,” I say lightly, though my chest feels like it’s been squeezed in a vise.

“Guess so,” she replies softly, her smile tugging at something deep inside me.

Yeah, I could go good for her. I’d do anything for her.

18

MARIE

Sitting here with the guys—well,with Hugo and Trick while Sam cleans—is the closest I’ve ever had to a normal moment, I think. Not that having my first experience with three guys is normal, but the aftermath, when we’re all loose and loopy, just chatting about nothing…that’s the normal part.

I can’t believe this even happened. It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever done, and no one is weird about it. When my best friend in high school, Andra, had her first time, she said it got weird after, that neither of them knew what to say. They broke up a week later, and that was that.

But I don’t think that’ll happen with the guys. Not that we’re together in any real sense of the word, but I don’t get the feeling that they’re done with me either. I’m not done with them, that’s for sure.

A faint jingle sound catches my ear, and I look for the source. It’s familiar—oh shit, my phone. I grab my bag and tear through it, and when I see what’s there, reality strikes with a jarring thud, breaking through the haze of warmth and adrenaline still coursing through me.

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