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“You’re a CEO, not a welder.”
His mouth tips up. “If you choose one, I’ll wear it.”
Just when I think he’s too stuck in his ways to change, he does something like this.
I’m used to not being his firsts, but I love that in this I am.
I walk toward the first set of cases, spotting elegant necklaces dripping with diamonds and colored gems.
Nope.
The next is engagement rings and wedding bands.
Nope.
The third case is what I want. Wide bands meant for a man’s finger.
Before I can even look them over, the sales associate unlocks the case and pulls out the display to rest atop the glass.
Gold and silver and platinum and titanium. Polished and brushed.
“My mother wore her wedding band every day, no matter what she was doing. My father’s spent more time in a bowl on his bedside table than on his finger.” Harrison’s low voice comes from my shoulder. “He took his off before going to work. If he had to travel alone, he left it behind. I never understood why until I was older.”
I wait for him to continue.
“He didn’t want it lost or damaged, or he was dealing with men whom he didn’t want to know he had a family. But he belonged to her, more deeply than any piece of adornment could say. They belonged to each other.”
I turn to take in his expression. His clear blue eyes are cast in shadows, his cut jaw working.
“You want to wear it,” I realize, “because he couldn’t.”
He pulls me against him, not kissing me, just holding me. “The world knows you’re mine. I never want there to be any question I’m yours.”
I sink into him. For a man who hides so much, I can see everything—not only his strength, but his vulnerability. I don’t take it for granted.
I pull back enough to lift one ring from the display. It’s lighter, flimsier than I expect. I set it down.
The next is warm gold, like butter in metal form.
I return that one too.
The third is shiny and silver but brighter than the others. I turn it over. The cool metal warms beneath my touch.
“Cobalt,” says the sales associate I’d forgotten is here. “Harder than titanium, rarer than tungsten.”
The weight in my hands is solid. Satisfying.
“Try it on?” I murmur, turning back to Harrison.
“No.” His swift dismissal startles me. “I don’t want to wear it until we’re married.”
“You have to try it on because I’m having it engraved.”
His brows rise. “With what?”
I take a moment to consider. “Property of Rae.”
“That rather renders the tattoo I had planned redundant.”
