A Beautiful Wedding (Beautiful, #2.5)(21)

“You said something at the wedding . . . that we were like Johnny and June. I didn’t quite get the reference.”

He smirked. “You don’t know about Johnny Cash and June Carter?”

“Sort of.”

“She fought him tooth and nail, too. They fought, and he was stupid about a lot of stuff. They worked it out and spent the rest of their lives together.”

“Oh yeah? I bet she didn’t have Mick for a dad.”

“He’ll never hurt you again, Pigeon.”

“You can’t promise that. Just when I start settling in somewhere, he shows up.”

“Well, we’re going to have regular jobs, broke like every other college student, so he won’t have a reason to sniff around us for money. We’ll need every dime. Good thing I still have a little left in savings to carry us through.”

“Any ideas where you’ll apply for a job? I thought about tutoring. Math.”

Travis smiled. “You’ll be good at that. Maybe I’ll tutor science.”

“You’re very good at that. I can be a reference.”

“I don’t think it’ll count coming from my wife.”

I blinked. “Oh my God. That just sounds crazy.”

Travis laughed. “Doesn’t it? I f*cking love it. I’m going to take care of you, Pidge. I can’t promise that Mick will never hurt you again, but I can promise that I’ll do everything I can to keep that from happening. And if it does, I’ll love you through it.”

I offered a small smile, and then reached up to touch his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he said right back. “Was he a good dad . . . before all that?”

“I don’t know,” I said, looking up at the ceiling. “I guess I thought he was. But what does a kid know about being a good parent? I have good memories of him. He drank for as long as I can remember, and gambled, but when his luck was up, he was kind. Generous. A lot of his friends were family men . . . they also worked for the mob, but they had kids. They were nice and didn’t mind Mick bringing me around. I spent a lot of time behind the scenes, seeing things most kids don’t get to see because he took me everywhere then.” I felt a smile creep up, and then a tear fell. “Yeah, I guess he was, in his own way. I loved him. To me, he was perfect.”

Travis touched his fingertip to my temple, tenderly wiping the moisture away. “Don’t cry, Pidge.”

I shook my head, trying to play it off. “See? He can still hurt me, even when he’s not here.”

“I’m here,” he said, taking my hand in his. He was still staring at me, his cheek against the sheets. “You turned my world upside down, and I got a brand-new beginning . . . like an apocalypse.”

I frowned. “I still don’t like it.”

He pushed off the bed, wrapping the sheet around his waist. “It depends on how you look at it.”

“No, not really,” I said, watching him walk to the bathroom.

“I’ll be out in five.”

I stretched, letting all of my limbs spread in every direction on the bed, and then I sat up, combing my hair out with my fingers. The toilet flushed, and then the faucet turned on. He wasn’t kidding. He would be ready in a few minutes and I was still naked in bed.

Fitting my dress and his suit in the carry-on proved to be a challenge, but I finally made it work. Travis emerged from the bathroom and brushed his fingers across mine as we passed.

Teeth brushed, hair combed, I changed and we were checking out by eleven.

Travis took pictures of the lobby ceiling with his phone, and then we took one last look around before leaving for the long taxi line. Even in the shade it was hot, and my legs were already sticking to my jeans.

My phone buzzed in my purse. I checked it quickly. mobilism.org

Cops just left. Dad’s @ Tim’s but I told them you guys were in Vegas getting married. I think they f*cking bought it.

Srsly?

Yeah! I should get an Oscar for that shit. JS





I breathed a long sigh of relief.

“Who’s that?” Travis asked.

“America,” I said, letting the phone slip back into my purse. “She’s pissed.”

He smiled. “I bet.”

“Where to? The airport?” Travis asked, holding his hand out for mine.

I took it, turning it enough so that I could see my nickname on his wrist. “No, I’m thinking we need to make a pit stop first.”

One of his eyebrows pulled up. “To where?”

“You’ll see.”





CHAPTER TEN


Inked


Abby


“What do you mean?” Travis said, blanching. “We’re not here for me?”

The tattoo artist stared at us both, a little surprised at Travis’s surprise.

The entire taxi ride over, Travis assumed I was buying him a new tattoo as a wedding present. When I told the driver our destination, it never occurred to Travis that I would be the one getting inked. He talked about tattooing ABBY somewhere on him, but since he already had PIGEON on his wrist, I thought it would be redundant.

“It’s my turn,” I said, turning to the tattoo artist. “What’s your name?”