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He grinned—but not enough for those dimples to come out and play—as he lifted his eyebrows toward his hairline. “I asked it, didn’t I?”
I looked around to make sure the jeweler dude—who happened to remind me a lot of Leslie Jordan—wasn’t within listening distance. I didn’t see him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t lurking somewhere, or that this room wasn’t bugged. It wouldn’t be surprising, given the amount of money I was surrounded by.
Moving closer, I lowered my voice and spoke. “This place is outrageous, Gage. I was only messing with you about a nice ring. I thought maybe you’d get me a plain gold band or something. I can’t let you spend this kind of money on a ring for afakefiancée.”
I didn’t miss the way his jaw ticked or the narrowing of his eyes. For a moment, he almost looked pissed, but as quickly as it had overtaken his features, it was gone, and the cool and collected guy I knew was back.
“Bits, that isn’t something you need to worry about.”
A choking noise clawed its way up my throat. “How can you say that? It’s so much money.”
“Don’t think about the cost, okay? Just pick a ring you like. Me and you, remember?”
“But—”
A frustrated noise worked its way up from his chest as he tossed his head back. “For Christ’s sake,” he complained to the ceiling before looking at me. “I said not to worry about the cost, because I can cover it without any issue.”
My brows pinched together in a frown of confusion, and when I didn’t say anything he sighed, scrubbing at the back of his neck before explaining, “I’m loaded, all right?”
“You... Huh?”
“My grandpop left me a small inheritance after he passed, and instead of blowing it on bullshit, I hired an advisor to help me invest the money wisely.” He lifted his shoulder in a casual shrug. “That investment paid off, so we made another. Then another. I paid cash for my house and truck, and the business is doing really well. I don’t exactly live a flashy lifestyle, so there’s not more going out than I have coming in. I can afford it.” He took me by my arms and held on, his eyes pleading. “Let me do this for you. I know it’s not real, but I want you to have a nice ring, okay? So just... let me do this.”
I sputtered, my mouth opening and closing like a guppy as I tried to wrap my brain around what he’d said. “So, like, you have Wall Street money?”
“I was lucky,” he amended. “I was lucky with my investments and I was lucky when it came to deciding when to cash out. I have money in some CDs, a retirement fund, stuff like that.” The corners of his mouth wobbled with a barely-suppressed smile. “But yes, I have Wall Street money.”
I blinked, my brain clicking back online after that bombshell. “Okay,” I relented. “I’ll pick a ring.”
Tennessee’s Leslie Jordan came walking back out with a tray containing three antique rings on it. He placed it on the gleaming glass case in front of us, and the second my eyes homed in on the middle ring, all the air whooshed from my lungs.
I was rendered speechless once again, but this time it was because the beauty of the ring in front of me had struck me momentarily stupid.
The ring was art deco, a perfectly round center diamond with two rows of smaller ones clustered around it to look like flower petals, all set in a white gold band. It was a showstopper, not because of the size, but because of the sheer beauty. And it was some.
I stared, entranced, as I lifted my hand and slowly reached forward but stopped myself once my hand hovered in the air above the tray.
“That one,” Gage spoke, his voice jolting me out of my stupor. I turned to look at him and found his eyes on me, something sparkling in their metal depths before he turned his focus back to the jeweler. “The one is the middle. Can she try it on?”
The man cast a knowing smile in my direction. “Of course.”
Before he had a chance to, Gage’s hand shot out and he picked the ring up himself. It looked so delicate between his big fingers, but even with his size and strength, he handled the ring with care as he turned to me and lifted my left hand up. His eyes locked onto mine as he slowly slid the cool metal over my finger. I inhaled deeply the second it rested at the base, and we both looked down.
“Whoa,” I said on a breath.
“Perfect fit,” Gage pointed out, pride ringing in his voice.
“It’s as if that ring were made for you, ma’am,” the jeweler said.
Gage smiled then, those dimples flashing. “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” he murmured quietly. “We’ll take it.”
For this being a fake engagement, things just gotveryreal.
ChapterThirteen
GAGE
I should have knownsomething was up when I walked into work the following Monday to an empty, quiet reception area. Stupidly, I thought I could make it back to my office and lock myself inside for some privacy before the rest of the crew arrived. Only my plan was thwarted the moment I stepped over the threshold and found all four of them had already made themselves comfortable.
