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She winked at him. “Good call.”
He heaved out a breath. “Look, I brought you here today so we could arrange for the ring.”
“What ring?”
He rolled his eyes. “We’re engaged. Your engagement ring.”
She peered around the jewelers. “Somehow, I managed to figure that out, but it’s totally unnecessary. I don’t need a ring. I can wear something Jamie gave me.”
“Janice would notice that immediately.”
Janice was exactly like Elizabeth, except she’d been clever enough to be married to Frank before she gave birth—though their relationship had started with an affair too.
A fact Jamie had learned after overhearing a row between his parents one night when he was eight. Josh could easily remember his best friend telling him the next day the vitriol the two had tossed at each other, all within hearing range of their son.
He remembered because Jamie had been particularly down about Frank’s accusations Jamie wasn’t his.
He sucked in a breath as in his mind’s eye, he saw the snot-nosed kids he and Jamie had been, huddled together at recess at an exclusive prep school, both miserable, both clinging to each other for comfort in a world where their parents didn’t give a damn.
They weren’t alone in their class. Rich families weren’t exactly renowned for being ultra-caring, but Josh and Jamie had bonded from the instant. He didn’t know why, and had never questioned it before—had always been grateful for the way they’d made friends.
Now?
Now he wasn’t so sure.
And he hated that. Hated the doubt where once upon a time, there’d never been any.
Still, that wasn’t Samantha’s fault.
He cleared his throat, realizing that, once again today, the women in his life, both permanent and temporary, had been speaking without him processing a damn word.
Crap, this whole situation had really knocked him off kilter.
He wasn’t used to not having his head in the game, and this was really fucking with his control.
That could not be allowed to continue, so, h
is tone like a blanket intended to dampen further argument, he murmured, “Whatever you say, you need a ring if anyone’s to believe that we’re engaged.” The last part he said softly, whispering the words in her ear so the attendant couldn’t overhear—NDA’s weren’t always ironclad after all.
Trouble was, their proximity made it so her perfume, her scent, overwhelmed his senses.
Overwhelmed him.
She smelled like fucking flowers and fresh air.
Who smelled like that?
Like walking laundry detergent? And who made it smell good? Sensual?
He blinked, taken aback by his visceral response to her.
Yet again, he cleared his throat of the emotion gathering there, emotion that was poorly placed, and murmured, “Just take the gift.”
“Only if you don’t expect me to keep it.” She eyed him, shooting a gimlet stare his way. “This is your plan, your idea. I won’t have you thinking I’m in this for a rock.”
He snorted, for the first time finding something amusing in this bewildering situation. “That’s the last thing I think.” He cocked a brow at her. “I want to get the initial meeting with Janice and Frank over with. It will have to be soon, and you’ll need a ring as proof. Mother only hasn’t spoken with Janice over this because she thought she could talk me out of it.”
Samantha propped her hands on her hips. “She called to talk about me?”
