“But it’s not the biggest.”
“But it’s the one I l-love the best.” I trip over the word love, because that’s not what this is about.
He picks up the ring and looks at it with more care. Then he runs a large finger over the delicate hearts and turns it this way and that, watching the way it catches the light.
“I can have more options flown in from Harry Winston tonight.”
I wonder why he’s putting so much thought into the choice. After all, I’ll only wear it for a few days.
“You’re going to hurt the ring’s feelings,” I say. “Or give it a size complex. An emerald cut is timeless. And the hearts make it perfect.”
“You really like it best?”
I nod. “I do.” And then I realize what I said in the presence of engagement rings.I do.
I clear my throat, hoping he didn’t notice my turn of phrase. I blurt out, “Um. What about you? Do you like it?”
“I do,” he repeats with a ghost of a smile playing on his beautiful lips.
Then he takes my hand and, without hesitation, slips the ring onto my ring finger. My heart beats so fast and hard I fear it might explode.
We look down at the ring together. It winks and blinks back at us, and I fall in love with it even more. I don’t ever want to take it off.
Which, all things considered, really is a problem. Because it’s only mine for a few days.
This moment shouldn’t feel like anything more than us pretending for a fake engagement. But it doesn’t seem like that at all.
It feels real.
Sebastian swallows audibly. “We’ll take it,” he says in a rough mumble.
A short while later, I can see for myself that the diamond is even sparklier in the sunshine.
I may have had reservations about this entire trip, but I can’t help but be buoyant. After months, years of work, I’m on a vacation of sorts. I’m with Sebastian. And I’ve always wanted to come to Napa. It’s one of those picture-perfect days in Northern California, with the sky the most brilliant of blue. St. Helena is quaint yet elegant. Chic people wander into charming stores and sip wine at cafés.
Though I admittedly miss a lot because I can’t stop staring at the ring. I’m so occupied, I almost miss the ice cream shop. But I look up just in time and stare longingly at the child coming outof the store licking what looks like the biggest chocolate cone I’ve ever seen.
“Fuck me. It’s bigger than his head,” Sebastian says in wonder that’s not entirely complimentary.
“It is,” I agree, entirely complimentary. I’m eyeing that creamy dessert with almost as much awe as I do the jewel on my finger. Almost.
He watches my face with amusement. “Do you want to go in?”
“Oh. Um,” I say. “Do we have time?”
“We will never not have time for you and ice cream.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“As long as it’s sugar-free.” he cocks a head toward the sign that advertises healthier options. “I like watching you eat it,” he murmurs.
As he pushes the door open and puts his hand on my lower back to direct me into the air-conditioned shop, I try to ignore my quickening pulse.
And then Sebastian Blake proceeds to buy me a low-sugar mint chocolate chip ice cream cone. He orders himself a small scoop of dark chocolate in a cup.
I tilt my head. “What gives? They have normal mint chip also. It looks amazing. Why didn’t you get it?”
He lets out a deep laugh. “Em. For someone so smart, how is it that you haven’t figured out that I hate mint chip? It tastes like mouthwash.”
