I clear my throat. “We can apply online, and it only takes a few days to get approved.”
She looks up. She’s sitting across from me at my large, oak dining table, and I can’t help but think howunlikeother couples we are in this moment. An engaged couple planning a wedding—sitting side by side, going over colors, dates, who to invite, whether to have champagne or wine.
And how badly I wish that were the case.
I clear my throat again. It’s like I’m drowning over here, although in what, I don’t even know. “I looked up it last night.”
Cora nods. Once. Then realization flashes in her blue eyes. “Rings. We’ll need those.”
I’ve already thought of that too. I stand, the chair scraping against the floor. “I’ll be right back,” I say, heading for the stairs. I try to ignore the ringing in my ears, the pounding of my heart as I open the top drawer of my dresser, pulling out a small box. I stare down at it, almost afraid to open it.
So I don’t. I simply take it downstairs and set it on the table in front of Cora, resuming my seat across from her.
Her eyebrows crinkle in that fucking adorable way they always do when she’s thinking hard. “What’s this?” she asks.
I nod at the box in answer.
Her eyebrows crinkle further, but she reaches for it, opening it and … “Oh my god,” she breathes.
“They were my grandparents’,” I explain. “I’m the only grandchild, so they went to me.”
Cora tentatively pulls the rings, one by one, out of the box. My grandfather’s plain, wide, gold band; a smaller gold band for my grandmother; and finally, her engagement ring—a sparkling solitaire set in engraved gold.
Her mouth drops open for a moment. “I … can’t actually wear your grandmother’s diamond ring,” Cora breathes. “It just feels …”
“What?” I ask quietly.
Her eyes dart up to meet mine, full of hesitancy, hope, happiness, fear. “Real,” she breathes.
I purse my lips, staring at the sparkling ring in her hands. Yeah. It does fucking feel real.
And not real enough.
“Just wear the band then,” I say. “And I’ll wear my grandfather’s.”
She seems to like this idea better, taking the small band and sliding it onto her ring finger. She grins down at it when it fits perfectly. “I’ll be sure to be careful with it,” she assures me. “You know, so you get it back and everything after …”
I nod quickly. “Right. After.”
There’s another pause. A long one. Fuck. We never used to be awkward around each other. It never felt forced like this. Like there’s electricity in the air around us and one wrong move might result in a lightning strike. “And you’ll move in here, right?” I say, anything to break the silence.
Surprise coats her face, and it pulls a laugh out of me.
“What, would you rather we both move into to your tiny cabin?”
This gets a laugh out of her now, and she shakes her head. “No, of course not. It’s just … wow. This is really real, Theo. I mean, notrealreal, but …” She bites her lip. “Are you sure about this?”
My heart twinges. Am I sure about marrying Cora? No. Am I sure about doing everything within my power to make sure she gets to stay in the country? Fuck yes.
But her feelings matter too. In fact, they matter more.
“I’m sure. But if you’re not, we can always stop this,” I say evenly.
She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and then opens them again. “I want to stay here in Montana, at Thatcher Ranch, more than anything,” she says quietly. “But I also don’t want to ruin your life doing it.”
I reach my hand across the table, resting it palm up, inviting hers. She takes it, and for the first time since my awkward-as-fuck proposal, things finally feel a bit more normal again. Comfortable. “You’re not ruining my life,” I promise.
But it’s a lie. I know it’s a lie the second it leaves my lips. Cora Walker ruined my life two years ago when she walked onto that stupid ranch and stole my heart away from me. And I should have told her. Got down on my knees sometime between then and now and proposed for real. Because now it’s too late. Telling her how I feel now isn’t fair to her, to her goals, to her dreams. I’m herfriend, and asking to be anything more, especially after this decision we’ve just made, is inappropriate.
