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When she was just drifting off to sleep, he ran a finger down her spine. “Mia?”
“Yeah?”
“What kind of a ring do you want?”
She tried to see his face, but now the room was getting dark. Picking out a ring for a fake engagement seemed over-the-top. “We don’t need a ring. Maybe I’m really, really modern and don’t believe in jewelry.”
“Or you’re the kind of woman who gets her man a ring, since if she’s wearing one, he does, too.” He stroked his hand up her back, his fingertips grazing her shoulders.
She kind of liked the sound of that.
“The whole island is taking bets on what kind of ring you’re going to be wearing. It’s easier to just get something now and let them find something else to talk about.”
She could feel his penetrating gaze on her. She didn’t know what he was looking for, what she was supposed to say. She didn’t mind wearing his ring, although it felt like a cheat. Play it off. They were friends with benefits. Nothing more.
“I should make you guess. Isn’t that a fiancée kind of thing to do?”
“If you want something ugly, sure. What do you like?” He rolled over and propped his head on his hands.
You.
I like you.
She’d never been one for jewelry. The military had strict rules on what was appropriate and what was not. She’d been limited to a simple pair of matched studs for her ears and a wristwatch. If she’d been married, she could have worn her wedding band and engagement ring, although sporting bling in the sandbox would have been dangerous.
“I don’t know.” How sad was that? “But nothing real.”
“Mia.” He exhaled roughly. “You have to be the first woman in history who prefers cubic zirconia.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being practical.”
“Should I surprise you?”
“Go for it,” she said.
But the funny thing was: he already had.
12
PAINTING HAD BEEN undeniably fun, even if she still had two bare walls. The memories kept Mia smiling right through the next day. She seemed to smile a lot around Tag. He’d gone back to his place that morning because he had his menagerie to feed. Meanwhile, Mia had a fixer-upper to wrestle into shape, not to mention a garage full of boxes from her mainland storage unit to tackle, so she should have been busting her ass.
But instead, she was sitting on her front porch, actually contemplating getting into the blue plastic kid’s pool she’d discovered in her new shed. Discovery Island had been hit with a late heat wave, and odds were high she’d melt before sunset. Laurel had also packed up and forwarded Mia’s stranded things from the cruise ship, military-care-package style...and had added a few bonus toys. Sex toys for the rescue-swimmer hottie, or so the handwritten note had said. Laurel had also included some lingerie the likes of which Mia had never seen before. Apparently, her cousin had been showered with a wedding-night bonanza—or had gone on a shopping spree—that ought to make Tag a happy man. Painting and patching paled in comparison to the fantasies she was cooking up.
Movement caught her eye, causing a momentary spike of adrenaline. Mia’s breath returned to normal when she realized it was Piper, Cal’s fiancée and the co-owner of Dream Big and Dive, striding up the path.
“How’s engaged life?” she asked, barely masking her mischievous smile. Mia had only met the young woman a couple of times, but she already liked her. Dani, Daeg’s fiancée, and Carla trailed behind Piper, waving paper grocery bags that looked suspiciously like they contained at least ten thousand calories of carbs and sugar.
Thank God.
“I haven’t killed him yet,” she deadpanned. That was a definite win in her book and underscored the wisdom of having a practice fiancé. When she got around to the real deal, she’d be prepared.
Not.
“Bonus points for you,” Piper said solemnly. “Cal and I make a point of fighting at least once a week. Plus, makeup sex is the best.”
Behind her, Carla made a face. Piper’s dive shop assistant manager was a hoot, and Mia looked forward to getting to know her better. When Tag had told her Piper and Dani knew the truth about their engagement, she’d worried they would be unhappy about the deception, but her worry had turned out to be unfounded.
Completely unfounded.
They simply wanted to convert her sham engagement into the real deal.
