EMMA

"Alright, we're here." Beau puts his mustang in park outside of a dark, brick building in a short business strip, an intimidating font reading Black Heart Tattoo Shop above a deep red door. "Ready to go, baby momma?"

"I told you: I don't like when you call me that," I roll my eyes dramatically, a small laugh still escaping me anyhow.

"Yeah, yeah." Beau smirks his devious, Cheshire Cat grin, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. "Well you're stuck with it for at least another eighteen years, so... Get used to it." He offers a wink before continuing more seriously. "Do you see my wallet anywhere in the back?"

As he resumes checking his pockets, I reach into the backseat, shuffling through CD's - old school, I chuckle to myself - and fast food trash. My hand finds something smooth and cool in the pile and instinctually, I grab it to inspect it further.

I stifle a small gasp, the butterflies already wild in my belly as excited tears prick my eyes.

It's a parenting book. For dummies. How... sweet.

I peer at Beau as discreetly as I can, heart fluttering as he mumbles various curses under his breath, frustratedly continuing his search. He never fails to surprise me, that's for sure.

Gently returning the book to where it was, safely "hidden" beneath a leather jacket and some used napkins, I finally find his wallet. I force myself to frown - hoping it'll help to keep my stupid grin in check, and hold it out to him.

"Got it."

"See?" Beau grumbles, completely unaware of my other discovery, and exits the vehicle, coming around my side to hold the door open for me. "What would I do without you?"

I bite back another smile as Beau opens the shop door, waving me through. I wasn't sure what to expect in a tattoo parlor, but this little place definitely doesn't disappoint.

Painted in dark maroon and black hues, and decorated with leather furnishings and huge, blown up images of tattoos and piercings, the shop has a very Beau vibe to it. I admire the framed photos on the walls, a range of colorful artwork and realistic black and gray pieces making it hard to believe they're inked into real people's skin.

"Can I help you?" A man comes behind the counter then, his head shaved but covered in black tribal tattoos, his face heavily adorned with rings and dermal piercings.

I pull my eyes from the display case full of silicone body parts and display piercings, and peer up at Beau who still looks calm as a cucumber. My own excitement is more amusing to him I think, especially since we're only here for him.

"Beau Lewis, I have an appointment."

The man nods, taking a moment to check the schedule.

"You didn't tell me what you're getting,"  I watch Beau curiously, wondering why he isn't more nervous.

Running my eyes over his body, I'm reminded why not. Oddly, I find it easy to forget about the ink, sort of blending into his whole persona, but with how many there are, it's really not that strange that he isn't scared. Still, the mere thought of a needle raking across my skin gives me the chills.

Catching me appreciating his physique, Beau gives me a sexy half smirk but shrugs casually. "I'm just fixing some shading on my ribs."

"Oh," I mumble as the guy behind the counter, who's introduced himself as Miles, hands Beau some paperwork confirming that he's eaten in the last few hours and isn't drunk or anything else that might cause any complications.

I listen as Beau reminds the artist what he'd like done - some shading on a Chinese dragon on his ribs - and jump when the man turns to me.

"And what about you, girlie?" His ears, stretched and weighed down by thick rings, sway when he talks. "What're we doing for you today?"

"Oh, nothing," I shake my head quickly, the thought sending blood rushing to my head. "No, thank you. I'm just here for moral support."

"Yeah," Miles glances at Beau, giving him a quick once-over and laughing to himself. "Looks like he needs it." Waving us down a short, narrow hall and into a small room, mostly empty except for an adjustable leather table, he continues his small talk. "What's stopping you? Afraid of needles?"

He instructs Beau to remove his shirt and for a second, I forget Miles even asked a question, too distracted by the way Beau's back, tanned and pretty void of tattoos, ripples as he tosses his shirt to the chair and hops onto the table.

"Um," I blink a couple times to clear my head, hoping Beau didn't notice. "Yeah, kind of a phobia, I guess."

Miles nods, assembling his tools on a small metal table. Snapping on some gloves, and wiping Beau's ribs with alcohol, he gives me a mischievous smirk. "Me too."

I can't help but laugh. "So," I settle into a seat beside Beau, leaning in close to watch. "How badly will it hurt?"

I jump when the needle is turned on, the mechanical whirring sound getting me even more excited.

"Some people say shading hurts worse than line work," Miles mumbles, carefully placing the needle to Beau's skin.

"It doesn't," Beau murmurs, watching me watch Miles wipe at the little drops of blood that formed over his skin.

Nope, I could never.

"Tough guy," I giggle, curiously examining his skin as Miles deposits dark ink into it - the process fascinating me.

"Hold my hand?" Beau holds it up to me carefully with a smug grin, barely moving his body or interrupting Miles's work.

"Because it hurts?" I take it anyways, squeezing gently. "Or because you just wanna hold my hand?"

"Owww," Beau whines sarcastically over my voice, holding my hand tighter.

"A wise guy too," I sigh, resting my chin atop our entwined fingers anyways.

I don't pull away, loving the electricity it pushes through my veins, buzzing like the tattoo gun in the background.

"When will you do your back?" I wonder out loud, my curiosity piqued by the entire experience. I never thought I'd like tattoos on a man, but to see space bare of them on Beau seems... wrong.

"When I get an idea cool enough for that much space." He replies simply, eyes fluttering closed as his chest rises and falls evenly. He almost looks relaxed, like he could fall asleep right now.

Not wanting to disturb him, I accept his answer and return to watching Miles, the artwork keeping me on my toes the entire time.

***

I turn the page of my current draft, struggling to keep up with the heroine's murder theory, and rake a hand through my pony tail. Checking the clock for what feels like the millionth time today, I have a brief moment when I can't wait for my maternity leave.

Considering the laboring I have to do beforehand... a shiver runs up my spine.

I actually can wait awhile before giving birth, on second thought. Confusing first-draft thrillers will have to do for now.

"Knock, knock," Adam pops his head into my office, a mug of coffee in his hand. "Brought you your daily dose of caffeine."

With a sigh, I flip the pages I'm working on closed. I've had enough for the moment - the twists and turns leaving my head spinning.

"No thanks," I reply quickly, holding up my empty, and admittedly dusty, travel mug. "Just finished this whole cup and my bladder is mad at me for it."

Adam chuckles and I feel a guilty lump in my throat. My bladder is constantly nagging at me, but that's for another reason entirely. Chewing my lip, I wonder when I should tell him the truth.

My fingers pull at a loose strand in my sweater. I've been able to wear oversized sweaters and loose cardigans to hide the belly at work, but it'll be on full display in my maid of honor dress this weekend. I'm not fully popping out, but I am still undeniably, - and honestly, when I'm alone looking at the belly in the mirror, adorably - pregnant.

"Actually, Adam," I push my hair out of my face, twisting it nervously around my fingers. "I didn't just have a cup. I lied."

"Okay," Adam shrugs, settling into the chair across from my desk, taking a sip of it for himself, a confused grin lighting up his expression. "I'll drink it then, no biggie."

"Can I tell you something?" I ask hesitantly.

"Anything."

"Adam," I swivel in my chair, finally forcing the words from my lips. "I'm pregnant."

His wide smile doesn't falter but he blinks at me slowly, my words not setting in completely, I don't think. I wait patiently as his brows begin to furrow, his mind working to figure out the details.

"Okay," He finally says after a moment, shrugging again as if it's really not a big deal.

It's better to just rip the bandaid off completely, isn't it?

Taking a big breath in, I rush out the next part, the part I know will bother him. "With Beau."

His smile fades immediately. "Oh."

My heart beats faster, a defensive and indignant rush coming over me. "If it's a problem, I get it. We don't have to go to the wedding together or anything, if you don't want to."

Adam's head snaps up then, a frown on his lips as his hand drops from his tight curls. "Are you kidding?" He leans forward, eyes glimmering warmly at me. "Of course I still want to, Emma."

"You do?" I cock my head to the side, something fluttering deep in my belly.

"Hell yeah. You're one of my best friends." He smiles proudly before nodding quietly to himself, seeming farther away in his mind than when he first entered the office. Rising to his feet, he tries to appear happy for me. "So, congratulations."

"Thank you," I murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear shyly.

"Well..." He shifts on his feet, gesturing awkwardly over his shoulder. "I'll get back to it, then. Grab me for lunch?"

"Mhm," I accept happily, biting my pen cap as I try to resume my reading.

Watching him through the doorway, I feel more relief than I thought I would now that all my friends know about the baby. About it being Beau's. And I received little to no judgement, too.

That's better than I could have hoped for, actually.

Naturally, my hand falls to my belly and then images of Beau, tucked in bed reading his first time parenting book invade my thoughts. My heart hammers in my chest, my pulse racing the more I think about him and our baby, then just him... his body... always so close and so touch-able.

My laptop pings with a new email and I drop my pen to the desk, startling myself into a chuckle.

Running my hand over my eyes, I refocus on the work at hand, wishing more than anything that it could've been a romance novel.

More Bemma loveee❤️
me writing this chapter: 🥺
what do we think??
what do we think about adam's reaction? any adam / emma shippers out there?

See ya in the comments lovelies. Remember to vote if you liked it! xx