Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
The glass cases lining the rectangular shop are filled with stunning rings of every shape and size. Graham guides me closer, and I swear every diamond in here is judging me.
I’m sure his mother expects status and a diamond that eclipses the moon, but I feel guilty taking a ring from him for a fake relationship.
Maybe his friend will just let him borrow it?
“Graham,” a distinguished gentleman, wearing a black suit and bow tie, calls out in a regal voice. I almost feel like curtseying. He steps from behind the counter, and his blue eyes give me a once over before he reaches out and embraces Graham into a hug.
“Charles, I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Zoe,” Graham introduces us.
“Fiancée?” Charles’ eyebrows shoot up to his receding hairline. “So, you’re the one who finally got him to put a ring on it,” he says to me.
“Well, not yet.” I hold up my empty ring finger in an awkward attempt to be funny.
Graham’s hand slides onto my lower back, searing me through my sweater. “Let’s find you a ring, Dear.”
“Let me get my special reserve from the vault,” Charles offers. “I’ll be right back.”
When he is out of sight, I whisper to Graham, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but could you pick a different pet name?”
His brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“My father used to call my mother ‘dear’ and it always sounded so patronizing. If we’re going to pretend, I want something sexy like baby.”
He gives me a sultry grin and then sends a jolt of electricity to every fragment of my DNA when he says, “We can do that, Baby.”
“Yes,” I whisper, taken aback by how much I like it, “perfect.”
His eyes drop to my mouth, and I fight the urge to grab him and make him kiss me while he murmurs baby against my lips. I like it that much.
“Let me show you these,” Charles says, bringing out three rings, which I’m sure all cost more than my apartment.
I lean closer to Graham, breathing in his scent as I say, “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
“Pick one.”
This isn’t real, so I point to a platinum band with an oval diamond. It’s the smallest of the three, but still heavy and cumbersome when I try it on. I’ll need to cart my hand around in a wheelbarrow.
“We’ll take it,” Graham says, appreciating the ring on my finger.
I smile, trying my best to gush like the bride to be, but then another ring catches my eye. One not from the exclusive vault collection. It’s different, with a rose gold band and vintage vibe, and judging by its positioning in the case, probably much less expensive.
“May I see this one?” I just want to see it closer. It’s like the ring is calling my name. It’s probably my grandmother’s ghost, and when I slip it on, her face will appear and ask me what the hell I’m doing.
Charles frowns, but obliges anyway. “This is a James Allen natural diamond ring.”
Thankfully, grandma Lila does not appear as I study the facets and fall in love with its character. When I get engaged for real, this is the one. I remove the gaudy spectacle on my left finger, and slide this one home. And that’s exactly how it feels, like home on my finger.
Graham takes my hand, sending little goosebumps flaring across my skin. “This ring was made for your finger.”
“It’s...wow.” I can’t find the words to finish my thought.
“We’ll take the vintage style one instead,” Graham informs Charles.
“Really? But the other is premium.”
“What my baby wants, my baby gets.”
His words send a ripple of lust through my veins. It’s silly, I know, and this is all pretend, but this desire is also what I want when I’m for real engaged. I look up at Graham. “It’s really ok,” I say. I don’t want to ruin the facade before it even begins.
He leans down and whispers against my ear for only me to hear. “Every ring in this shop is an acceptable ring my mother would believe.”
I nod, and my heart kind of has its own hesitations, but I throw caution to the wind, and take the offer. Twenty minutes later, it’s official: we’re fake engaged.
After we finish with the ring, and buy me some new clothes for my stay as his fiancée, we hop into the SUV and head off toward his mother’s. I flip the radio to a station playing “Silent Night.”
He switches the station to another.
“Not even Silent Night?” I balk.
“No.”
“Graham the Grump. No wait, Graham the Grinch. That’s what I’m going to call you from now on.”
“If you know what’s good for you, you won’t.”
The authority he says it with, and the hooded gaze he gives me, causes me to shift in my seat, envisioning a spanking from him. I think I’d like that. Nothing too much, I’m not in to whips and chains, just a hard spank, while he calls me baby. God, I have to stop this. No sex. This is business. “Why do you hate Christmas so much?” I ask to swipe the smut from my mind.