Sure, we can be twins if you want.
Another text, this time a selfie of him in his favorite gray pants and nothing else.
We don’t wear sweats, but when Travis comes downstairs in dark jeans and a black sweater, I’m thinking half-dressed was a safer option. He looks good. No, he looks phenomenal.
“Wow,” he says, giving me a once over while he clasps a watch onto his left wrist. “You’re a five-alarm fire. Damn.”
I chuckle nervously. “This is okay? I wasn’t sure about the dress code for a restaurant opening.”
The black dress is simple but it’s the nicest thing I own.
“You look perfect.”
I press a hand to my stomach. “Good because I’m starving.”
The right corner of his mouth hitches up. “Before we go, I have something for you.”
Curiosity piqued, I eagerly track his movements. He slides a hand into the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out a small, black box. It doesn’t immediately dawn on me what’s inside, but when he gets closer, I piece it together.
My throat is dry and my pulse quickens. Neither of us speaks while he opens the velvet box and reveals a stunning diamond ring.
I suck in a sharp breath and then stop breathing all together. I’m not much of a jewelry girl, especially rings because I end up having to remove them so much for training, but even I can appreciate the gorgeous ring staring up at me.
It’s oval cut, more carats than I can even speculate, with smaller diamonds around the band. It’s simple in the way only really elegant things can be.
“I figured you should have one if we’re going to make everyone believe I convinced you to marry me. And telling them the Vegas chapel options were too tacky will just open the door for too many jokes.”
I let out a small, startled laugh. “I wondered why I didn’t have one, but I chalked it up to the unusual situation or thought maybe I lost it.”
“I wanted the ring to be perfect.” He takes it out of the box and reaches for my hand, which is suddenly a little shaky. “Do you like it? You told me you don’t wear rings often, so I went smaller than I wanted.”
“There were some bigger than this?” I ask, only half joking. The weight of it as he slides the ring onto my finger is substantial.
He grins, proud and playful. It makes me wonder what kind of ring he might pick out for another woman someday when he does all this for real. Big and flashy, for sure, I’d expect nothing less.
His hand lingers, cradling mine for a beat, and his thumb runs along my skin just above the band of the ring.
“It’s gorgeous,” I assure him, but I mean it. I doubt I could have picked out anything as beautiful.
With a pleased grin, he drops my hand and steps back. “Ready,wife?”
The restaurant opening is for a new whiskey bar and grill. It has sort of a sophisticated Western vibe. Tonight, they’re serving a small tasting menu and instead of the usual formal seating I expected, they’ve set up couches and chairs around the room and outside in a heated patio.
I meet several more of Travis’s teammates and say hello to Conrad and Danny. Danny’s here with a date, so Conrad sticks with me and Travis, and the three of us find a wingback couch outside.
“Did you check out Hannah’s finger?” Trav asks after we get our drinks. The guys ordered a flight of whiskey and I stuck with water.
Conrad turns his head and squints slightly like he’s not sure he heard him right.
“She’s dripped out,” Trav adds.
Still Conrad has no idea what he’s talking about, so I lift my left hand as casually as possible.
Conrad’s stare finally lands on my left finger and recognition dawns on his face. “Ooh. You got her a ring. Nice.” He turns back to Travis. “You gotta stop stealing middle school slang from Aidan.”
Travis’s grin doesn’t waver. He takes a sip of the first whiskey and then passes the glass to me. “Want to try it?”
“I don’t think I like whiskey.”
