The words distracted her from her desperation and she lifted confused eyes to his.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it’snother engagement ring.”
“Hold on. Are you saying you just gave me a random ring from your grandmother’s jewelry box?” She sounded offended.
Wait.Wasshe offended?
Why? She should be relieved that it didn’t have a deeper meaning.
He ran a thumb over his lower lip and for a second Kenny was almost certain she saw a spark of amusement in his eyes, before his thick lashes lowered to hide whatever emotion gleamed in those green depths.
When next he looked at her, any hint of amusement was gone.
“Kenna, I’m the third grandson. I was never going to get the elaborate spoils like engagement rings. Nana Pat’s engagement ring went to Conrad as the eldest, and he naturally gave it to Kitty. And Granny Rita’s engagement ring went to Tina. Kyle and I were left with therandompieces. I like this ring, it was one of Nana Pat’s favourites, and I thought it suited you.”
Oh.
That was somehow worse.
It was a sentimental piece that had reminded him of her. That made it so much harder to part with while at the same time it felt so much lessdeserved.
Chapter
Twelve
She resumedher futile struggle with the ring, more determined than ever to return it to him.
His hand clamped around her right wrist to halt the movement.
“Stop that,” he admonished. “I don’t want it back.”
“But—”
“Kenna, I can’t stand the sight of it.” His voice was low and vehement and filled with enough venom to halt her in her tracks. He was frowning down at the ring, lips downturned, brow furrowed, eyes roiling with intense emotion.
Kenny’s fingers curled into a fist and she dragged her left hand to her chest and held it there, with the ring turned toward her in an unconsciously protective gesture. She pulled her other hand from his grip and covered her left with it, hiding it from his sight.
“All I see when I look at it is failure.” Those burning, angry eyes leaped to hers. “And our marriage in shreds around our feet.”
“Hi again, so sorry for the wait.” The unexpected intrusion of Suzie’s cheerful voice into the fraught moment was jarring.
The woman hesitated when she picked up on their tension and her smile dimmed somewhat.
“Um…” She lowered a couple of plates to the table in front of them. “Two croque monsieurs.”
She quietly and efficiently arranged their cutlery and condiments on the table.
“I’ll be back in a second with your coffee,” she told Smith. “Would you like another cappuccino?”
The last was directed at Kenny, who shook her head, unable to summon up even so much as a smile.
Smith and Kenny waited in awkward silence until the woman returned with the coffee, along with a pretty ceramic milk jug and a tiny, ornamental jar of sugar cubes.
“Enjoy,” Suzie invited, scurrying away with indecent haste.
Kenny and Smith stared at their identical orders. It was unsurprising, really. They’d always had similar culinary tastes.
