Chapter 25 #3
His mouth is greedy on mine, and we’re winding our fingers into whatever spot we can find.
Mine fist the material of his shirt and his go down to the hips of my dress.
He lifts me up. Or maybe my leg is lifting onto his.
Heat seeks heat, and there are loads on the cradle of his lap—heat and exquisite hardness.
Something heavy presses against me. Despite having finished the dinner, Luke makes a wholly starved noise.
Verity uses both of her hands to tap us on the heads. She coughs loudly.
We jerk our mouths apart.
“This must be their honeymoon,” the elderly woman says from behind us.
The group laughs. Shock is crawling up my chest.
As delicately as I can, I get off Luke and stand up.
I’m going to stay this way while Verity delivers her closing remarks.
She thanks the group and tells anyone who had a good time to leave her a positive review online.
From there, it’s a bit of a blur, but soon Luke and I are outside, and then back inside his car.
“Home?” I say, my voice thinner than usual.
“One last stop,” he promises me.
We’re silent on the quick drive to our next destination. This time, the signage is very clear as to what we’ll find inside. Jewelry. The store is closed, but has been kept open for Luke. The owner greets us at the door and asks how he can assist this evening.
“My fiancée needs a ring.”
Oh. Right. A man like Luke Abbot wouldn’t have a fiancée who doesn’t have a ring. This is another part of the process. I shouldn’t feel surprised or giddy or strange about this.
“What is your budget, sir?” asks the man wearing the blazer with a coil key ring around his wrist.
Luke walks up to the display case and looks down at the pieces they’ve got. “No budget.”
“We have a really broad range of prices, Mr. Abbot. Since this is a specialty store, we’ve been known to handle vintage pieces that have been worn by lost kings and queens.
Our last auction had us representing a diamond as big as a man’s middle knuckle.
” To reaffirm his shop’s credibility, he names the exorbitant figure it sold for.
“No budget.”
I squeak. The owner basically orgasms on the spot. He rushes to bring something out from the back of his store. A specimen that comes with a special case. It’s the chunkiest diamond I’ve ever seen on a ring.
I step back from it. “I can’t wear this.”
“Not your style?” asks Luke.
“No. I would be afraid to lose it. And if lost, I would have to mortgage everything I own a gazillion times over to pay you back.”
“Why would you return it? It’s yours.”
“For now. After our agreement?—”
“I’m not of the opinion that gifts are returned. Tell me what catches your eyes.”
“Not that thing!” The diamond alone could pop out a tooth.
The owner takes it back, and then walks me through other rings. Options are placed on a black velvet mat. They are all sparkling and extravagant and represent truckloads of money.
I could just pawn a ring off , I think. And I would have so much money. I bet it would come close to the meal kit competition prize money, if not exceeding it.
“Do you want to try any of these on?” asks the owner, rather eagerly. “Everything appears different on the hand.”
“No.” I’m shaking my head, not knowing how to feel. What is the appropriate emotion when you have worked so hard in your life to be successful, and then money drops at your feet? Seemingly stringless. Overly generous. With so many zeros you’ll have to count them out slowly.
“I mean…I prefer a simple gold band,” I say. “That’s what I’ve always envisioned. Anything else gets in the way of, um, cooking.”
“But you are going to wear it for the rest of your life,” sells the owner. “It should be fancy. Something with a bit more flash than a simple band.”
“But that’s what I’d—imagined. What I’ve seen myself wearing.”
Not that my fantasies ever involved hooking up with a man like Luke, even if it’s for pretend.
“Ma’am—”
“She can have anything she wants,” interrupts Luke, his tone settling whatever argument the owner was about to launch. “We’ll order a custom gold band if that’s Rita’s preference.”
The man’s face falls significantly, but he doesn’t try to convince me out of my decision. My ring finger is measured. When the bill is about to be settled, I take myself outside, desperately needing the fresh air.
Palm trees sway above me under the evening sky. My knees feel sweaty. It’s not that I don’t want a free ring. It’s that I—if I get a proper one, it feels…even more real? Which is stupid. I’m being an idiot turning down a big ring I can pawn off later.
What’s the point of being romantic about this? This whole deal is transactional. Should I run back inside and change my mind? Why does the thought of selling a symbol of commitment between Luke and I make me feel this way? Sick.
“Are you okay?” It’s Luke. He’s come outside.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
Considering the way he sighs, I don’t think he believes me. Not wanting to back down, I keep my smile pasted to my face.
“The ring will be ready in a few days,” he finally says. He hands me a bag. “For you.”
Inside is a box and inside that box is a strand of full diamonds to go across my neck.
Luke’s hands slip into his pockets. “It won’t get in the way of your cooking.”
“I-I can’t,” I stutter.
“When the light hits, the stones seem to go up in flames. When I saw it, it felt like it belonged to you. That it should be yours.” He examines my face closely. “But if you want to browse another design, I can buy more options and have them delivered to the house tomorrow?”
Is he kidding? Nope. Luke is patiently waiting for my answer.
“That’s not necessary,” I insist. “The necklace works. I’ll wear it to the conference.”
Because that’s what this is all about. He didn’t argue with my decision, but thinking more on it now, I suppose showing up with a bland ring will have people talking.
Luke’s Abbot’s fiancé needs to look expensive.
He has a reputation to uphold. That’s why the necklace is necessary.
That’s why he wants me to pair the two together.
“Thank you,” says Luke.
Shouldn’t I be thanking you? It feels like I should be.
This night—the date—the kiss?—
Being with Luke (even artificially) is like levitating. You float. All the time. It’s distracting. Terrible for any man in my future to compare to. I’m afraid I’ve ruined my expectations. Like me, they soar too high. The warmth in my heart intensifies.
I should really stop remembering details. His hands. Mouth. Lap. Touch. Feel.
No use.
Luke opens the car door for me. I sit and place the necklace carefully on my lap. I’m not going to fight him. His world might be a world I don’t understand, but he can trust me to play the part.
Though considering the state of my heart, I’m afraid I’m playing it too well.