I turn to face Nash. His face is much closer to mine than it was a moment before. “You are not helping.”
“You need a good dead-bolt lock and probably a steel cage door, but hopefully, this will help for now,” he says.
His look tells me he’s not about to listen to an argument…so I keep my mouth shut—for now.
He turns back to my mom. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Don’t be a stranger! And thanks for looking out for Magnolia. Magnolia, your dad is going to be so mad when he finds out your door was broken!”
Picturing my dad’s worried and disappointed face when she tells him, I say, “Mom! Don’t tell him! Nash is here to fix everything.”
I narrow my eyes at him. If he was in a hurry to interfere before, he’d dang better step in now.
“Right, right. Nothing to worry about. I got them a doorbell camera too.”
“You’re such a nice boy,” Mom says as if he were still thirteen. “I look forward to meeting you in person.” She waves, then cuts the call.
Nash slowly extends the phone out to me and gives me a sheepish grin. “Sooo…”
I fold my arms across my chest and sit on the edge of the couch, refusing to take the phone. He wouldn’t give it to me earlier when I asked. Now he gets the worst consequences. I do my best to give him a haughty look.
He gently sets the phone down on my leg. “Are you mad at me?”
I look at him with narrowed eyes.
He gives me a puppy-dog look. “Don’t be mad…”
“You tackled me in front of my mother!” I exclaim.
“Ha, not true.Youjumped on my back. I simply sat down on the couch.” When he sees my hot glare, he mimes zipping his lips.
He slides an arm across the back of the couch and smiles at me. “I brought you a present.”
“A door lock?” I try to keep a straight face, but I also think it’s incredibly sweet that he wants to protect us.
Nash reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small box. He sets it on my lap, next to the phone.
I slowly flip it open to see a beautiful engagement ring. It’s a bezel-set diamond ring. It’s unique and beautiful, and it’s sitting on my lap.
“What’s this?” I say.
“It’s your engagement ring. Grandpa asked me about it yesterday.”
“Did you pick this out?”
He taps a hand against the back of the couch. “Yes. Is it okay?”
“You have amazing taste,” I manage as I study the ring.
He bought this for his fiancée…and it’s weird that I feel a pang of jealousy in the pit of my stomach. I want to ask him what she thought of it, but I don’t.
“It’s not the ring I gave Jane.”
He has a weird way of reading my mind.
“This is fake, right?” My brain is not helping me. I’m blurting out every awkward thing I can think of.
“No, it’s real.”
