Ayla: Oh, and Christian’s losing hismind, so there’s that.
I dial her. We’re not doing this over text.
“What’s going on?” I ask, popping a bud in my ear so I’m free to use both hands.
“Dad.” The one-word answer says it all.
“Enough said.”
“Christian’s…. different. He’s on guard. He’s spending more time in his office watching the cameras around the house. He’s on his phone watching the ones at his office. And the gallery? Don’t get me started on Aspen & Evergreen. He’s almost manic.” The last word comes out on a whisper.
“What’s he said?”
“Just that he’s cautious. More aware.”
“Leave it to me.”
“It’s just that he’s always worried.”
“Ayla-girl?”
She stops her pacing or nerves. Everything goes still on the other end of the line. “Yeah, Li?”
“Let me handle it, okay? I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“That isn’t why I told you. I don’t need you to fix all my problems.”
“Yeah, well, on this one, I’m asking you to stand down. Can you do that for me?”
“Fine, but you owe me coffee.”
“You have a machine worthy of the most prestigious coffee bar in Italy in your kitchen. And a man who prepares it and serves you in bed.” Seriously. She wants drive-through?
“Fine, then baked goods.” She’s being hard-headed. It’s literally her most predominant trait. Thank God for that, actually.
“That I can do.” She doesn’t hear the smirk in my voice. Or the threat. But I have brownies on my counter, and she deserves it. “I’ll be there tomorrow morning. Plan whatever self-care or whatever you need. I’ll take Soph.”
Her voice comes through warm and mushy. “I love how you love her. She’s so lucky to have you.”
“She’s my girl.” It’s a matter of fact.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you, Li.”
“Love you too.”
Disconnecting, I wriggle my ring finger, noting the odd feeling. It’s too thick, too new, too there. I need to get used to it so it’s second nature, but it’s still just a suffocating extra on my hand.
I watched Lorien open her ring box. I saw the emotions flit across her face. Surprise, wonder, joy, confusion. She hadn’t tried it on when she came over, presumably to thank me.
I watched her growl and slap a palm over her mouth. I know there’s a freebie there. She does too. But she doesn’t know I know, so I’ll keep that to myself.
If I’d been on one knee proposing marriage to a woman I wanted for a lifetime and into eternity, I would’ve wanted the look that graced her face.
All but the confusion.
Sliding the hex nut from my pocket again, I twist it onto my keyring. There’s no reason to keep it. I’m not sentimental, but somehow, I can’t quite pitch it. And setting it down, hoping to remember where I placed it for safe keeping, seems like a great way to lose something I’m not ready to let go of.
22
