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“You mean these?” he asked lifting up his shirt over his pec cautiously.
“Uh, yeah! How come you never mentioned those?” she asked in irritation.
“It was the original reason I went to the stupid tattoo place,” Derrick said, “and then I kept drinking, among other things, and I had them put the freaking ugly tribal shit on my side. But I wouldn’t let them cover that.”
“Why did you get it?” she asked quietly.
Now Derrick sighed heavily. “Well, in my sober teenaged brain it was a declaration to you. I was going to get it and show you that I was sorry and that I loved you. As I partied a little harder, it became ascrew youto my dad. And when I was obliterated, I did the rest of it as the ultimatefuck youto my dad,” he explained. “I was pissed, in so many ways,” he said.
“I love it,” Taylor whispered.
“Good,” Derrick said, kissing her lightly on the lips. “Will you still love it if I tell you I screamed like a little bitch when the needle touched me?”
Taylor laughed. “Oh yes, always,” she said winking.
Thirteen
Taylor rubbedher forehead as she reread the email from the marketing department. She had tried to make her wishes for the latest campaigns clear and still, after dozens of emails and phone calls and video chats, still there were errors.
Taylor groaned loudly, and punched at her keys as she replied in frustration.
“Problem?” Derrick asked sarcastically across from her in their home office.
Taylor rolled her gaze up to him over the screen and kept typing. “More marketing issues,” she ground out.
“More issues, or the same issues over and over again?”
Taylor fired off her latest clarifications and slammed her laptop closed. “The same ones,” she whined and leaned back in her chair, throwing her head back and staring at the ceiling.
“It’s because you need a face to face,” Derrick said. “You need to go back to the office, Taylor.”
Taylor lifted her head to look at her husband, but left herself leaning back in the chair. “I don’t think that is the answer.”
“Really?” Derrick questioned. “Because you have laid it out for them every way possible and it still isn’t right. You’ve been working on this thing for weeks. It should be farther along.”
“I know,” Taylor gritted out through her teeth.
“Taylor, you don’t have to babysit me,” Derrick said gently.
“I’m not,” Taylor defended.
“Yes, you are,” he said smiling. “And it’s fine, I get it, I really do. But you can not stop your billion-dollar company any longer to take care of me.”
“I haven’t stopped it,” she argued. When Derrick pegged her with a ‘come on now’ look she rolled her eyes. “Okay, I took some time away but you are more important than anything, Derrick.”
“I know,” he said. “But you have to go back.”
“And what are you going to do while I am not here?”
“I will work, do my therapy, and hopefully head back to the office soon after you do,” he said casually.
“Exactly,” Taylor said, defeated. “You are going to rush yourself.”
“Tay, I am doing fine,” Derrick said, exasperated. “Yes, I am sore, but it is so much better than it was. You have to stop treating me like a china doll.”
“You were shot,” Taylor reminded him.
“I know that,” Derrick fired back. “I am very, very aware of that—you won’t let me forget.”