Todos los capítulos de Divorced and Falling for the Tattoo Master: Capítulo 111 - Capítulo 120

~ GAVIN ~To be honest, I didn’t want to see it. I hoped it wouldn’t be there anymore. It was a tattoo I’d done when my skills were unrefined and even worse, my frontal lobe was underdeveloped. Why else did I agree to write the name of a biker club on a woman’s forehead? I winced at the sight of it, still there, partially hidden by a bandage. But I knew what it read.‘DMC’, in crude, gothic writing. Devil’s Machete Club. Violet had a strong loyalty to the club that had nothing to do with her brother being president. She’d stayed longer than most patch members and was easily one of the best riders I’d ever known. There was no need to ask her what happened with the bandage. Something was always happening around here and Violet would always be where she loved — right in the middle of it. “Thorne was talking trash about you before you walked in," I told her, continuing a funny, agelong tradition of us reporting each other to her. "Said you cursed three times in under a minute.”She

~ SIENNA ~ My mail notification ping was growing into a much dreaded sound. Everytime I heard it these days, it was always to announce a rejection mail from yet another job I’d applied to. I ignored the ping, not eager to see which company was “sorry to inform me” this time and kept chopping the spring onions on the chopping board. The sound of steel on steel as the knife hit the board rattled my nerves but Margo had insisted a steel chopping board was the healthiest option so here we were. I was making some succotash and the kitchen already smelled delightful. When I’d added all the ingredients for the last lap of my cooking, I hoisted myself onto a chair and reached for my phone. It was either going to be a mobile game or an e-book to pass the ten minutes I had to wait for my food to be ready. Then I saw the new mail notification waiting on my lock screen and froze at once. I recognized the sender’s address. It wasn’t any company I’d applied to work with. It was Harry

~ SIENNA ~The boutique attendant was a cheerful, middle-aged woman who seemed like she would give you all the dresses you wanted for free if you only laughed at her jokes. And she had plenty. We had barely walked in and she’d already dropped three on us, the first being dramatically fanning herself at the sight of Gavin. I could swear the man blushed. The interesting part was she really wasn’t exaggerating about how hot he looked. He’d gotten a fresh haircut for the wedding and boy, what did they say about haircuts being makeup for men?His angular features looked even sharper. His skin glowed brighter. And the intensity of his hazel eyes seemed to have doubled. Generally, he’d been such a good sport about getting ready for the wedding. I couldn’t believe how invested he’d become on such short notice — booking us a hotel in Vegas, getting a new suit, and giving me a credit card (besides the conditional $50,000 I had to accept) to buy anything I needed for the wedding. We were

~ SIENNA ~“Time travel,” I answered without hesitation — intentionally. “I’d time travel back to the day I walked into your shop for a coverup tattoo. And go elsewhere.”“Ouch,” he said with a grimace, bringing a small smile to my lips. A part of me really liked to say things that caused him heart pangs. Then he placed a hand on the wall beside me and leaned down to whisper into my ears. “Want to know what I’d do if I had superpowers?”I shrugged, trying my best to seem uninterested, even if I was eager to know what he would say. Suddenly, in one clean sweep, he lifted me off the floor by my legs, keeping them apart while maintaining my back’s position against the wall. I was practically sitting on Gavin’s hands with my legs around his waist, convincing myself I was holding on to him tightly to prevent a fall and not because the whole position felt so hot. Our faces were inches apart and he kept it that way as he spoke, “If I had superpowers, I would free you from the restraining

~ SIENNA ~We finally arrived at the hotel Gavin had booked — if it could be called that. It looked more like a villa. Sprawling grounds, manicured hedges catching the evening light, a fountain in the courtyard that looked sculpted by Michelangelo. My parents had a chain of luxurious hotels but this one was on a different level entirely.“It’s beautiful,” I said as we walked into the reception area. A hotel staff followed paces behind us, with our luggage stacked nearly on a trolley. “You said your parents are hoteliers. Figured I had a standard to meet.” He glanced sideways at me. “Or was that a lie?”I gave him a wry look. “Why would I lie about something so… inconsequential?”He shrugged and walked ahead to the reception area where no fewer than five staff members stood ready to greet us like we were visiting royalty. Soon after, we were in a large room on the second floor of the hotel, the one that was going to be mine for the next twenty four hours. Gavin had booked two separ