Page 203 of The Sweetest Return

She looked down at the necklace again.

“This is too much.”

“For who?”

Her eyes lifted.

I held them.

“You spend all day helping women see themselves in beautiful things. I wanted you to have something from the house you’re helping build. Something nobody else picked off a wall because it looked nice under glass. This was made for you.”

Her hand touched the center stone then, careful as a prayer.

“You had Saint Aurelia make me a necklace?”

“Yeah.”

“And you did this without telling me?”

“You would’ve argued.”

“I am about to argue now.”

“I know.” I took the necklace from the box. “Turn around.”

She gave me a look. “You’re very pleased with yourself.”

“I’m about to be.”

She turned, and I brought the necklace around her throat slowly. The diamonds brushed the top of her chest before I settled them against her skin.

Her breath changed.

I heard it.

Felt it too, in the soft lift of her shoulders, the stillness that moved through her while my fingers found the clasp at the back of her neck.

I fastened it, then let my hands stay there for a second.

The back of her neck was warm beneath my fingers. Her perfume rose from her skin, soft and sweet under the salt coming through the balcony doors. Outside, the sun was sliding lower, turning the Pacific gold. Inside, those diamonds lit against her brown skin like Saint Aurelia had been waiting for her throat to finish the design.

I looked at her reflection in the glass.

“You see why I had to?”

Her hand rose to the necklace.

“This is…” She swallowed. “Dre.”

“I know.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say.”

“I know enough.”

She laughed under her breath, but her eyes stayed wet.

I bent and kissed the slope of her neck, right beneath the necklace. Her skin was warm there. Softer than any velvet in that box. Her pulse moved against my mouth, and when my hands slid around her waist, she leaned back into me like her body had already decided what her pride was still pretending to consider.