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“Jax doesn’t donot serious,” I told her.
“Well, it’s no wedding without a ring,” Muriel said, popping popcorn into her mouth from the barstool on the kitchen island.
“She’s got a point,” I said, moving around Quinn. “Excuse me.”
“Where are you going?” Quinn asked, scrunching her nose at me.
“You’ll see.”
I went to my home office and opened the hidden safe behind the bookcase. Inside was the box that had sat there since the last time Quinn was in my home. I vowed to her that I intended to tell off Dominic at that stupid New Year’s Eve party.
She didn’t know I had already picked out the ring too.
I put the box in my jacket and locked the safe.
When I returned to the living room, Quinn was alone, sitting near the fireplace.
“Where’s Muriel?” I asked.
She looked up at me. The firelight danced across her skin. It reminded me of our time in the library just yesterday.
“She’s tired. She called it a night.”
It was a lot for anyone, let alone a woman in her condition.
I cleared my throat.
“I have something for you.” I walked over to her. She was about to push herself up from the chair, but I held her shoulder down and shook my head.
“Sit,” I commanded.
She narrowed her eyes. Quinn did not enjoy being told what to do.
“Trust me.” I lowered myself in front of her. Her eyes followed my hand as I reached into my jacket pocket and presented the box.
“I know this isn’t how you expected things to go in your life. And believe me, I would’ve had this any other way. But you’re here now. And this—this was always meant to be yours.”
I was always meant to be yours.
I opened the black box revealing a ten-carat green diamond ring in a brilliant round cut. The fire beside us made the stone come alive and sparkle inside the box.
Quinn brought her hand up to her mouth. She looked at the ring and then at me.
“This…” she paused. “This is the ring you got for me?” Her voice was strained.
“I got it for you when Dominic wouldn’t give me grandmother’s ring when I asked. It was always yours.”
I removed the ring from its cozy home in the box and took Quinn’s left hand in mine.
“Quinn Miller, will you do me the honor of being my fake wife until New Year’s Eve?”
Quinn’s face was unreadable, but a small pull of her lips formed, and she nodded.
“Say it,” I demanded.
Her eyes met mine.
“I will be your fake wife until New Year’s Eve,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
