There were many things that could make Slade nervous.

Very few of them involved a piercing studio.

Yet here he was.

Sitting in the waiting area while his wife stared at the consent form like it had personally offended her.

She wanted the piercings.

Had wanted them for months, actually.

The problem was that she was also terrified.

She had nearly backed out three times on the drive over.

Slade, meanwhile, had spent the entire morning trying to convince her that if she wanted them, she could absolutely do it.

Now she looked moments away from changing her mind again.

He watched her for a long moment.

Then sighed.

A familiar, long-suffering sigh.

Because apparently this was where his life had ended up.

The world’s deadliest mercenary versus his wife’s nerves.

Several moments later, he stood.

Walked over to the counter.

And asked the piercer a question.

A very strange question.

Could they do two appointments?

The employee blinked.

“Together?”

“Yes.”

A pause.

“You want them too?”

Slade looked back at his wife.

Then shrugged one shoulder.

“If she’s nervous, then we’re doing this together.”

The room fell silent.

Even his wife looked surprised.

Because this was not a man known for spontaneous decisions.

Or body jewelry.

Or, frankly, emotional support in the form of matching appointments.

Yet somehow, here he was.

Filling out paperwork.

The piercer looked thoroughly amused.

Slade looked resigned.

And his wife—

for the first time all morning—

looked a little less afraid.

Which, as far as Slade was concerned, made the entire thing worth it.

Because he’d survived worse than a piercing appointment.

And if doing something ridiculous helped her feel brave?

Well.

He supposed he could live with that.