Page 55 of Love in Fine Print

“It was my grandmot?—”

“No.” She pulled her hand away like Julia Roberts inPretty Woman. “No, I can’t wear your grandmother’s ring.”

“Yes, you can. You need a ring, and believe me, she would want you to have it. She wouldn’t care how you got me down the aisle, just that I was there.” I pulled the ring out and set the wooden box on the coffee table.

“Is that a hummingbird?” Olivia asked, picking it up and inspecting it.

“Yeah, it is. Gran loved hummingbirds so my grandfather etched one in this box for her.”

I watched as her hand trembled, and she set the box down.

When she looked back down at me, I was still holding the ring between my thumb and forefinger. “You still haven’t answered me.”

“Oh, sorry, yes.” Her smile widened. “Yes, I will marry you.”

I slid the ring on her finger and it was a perfect fit. It was like it was made for her.

I stood looking down at her hand and a tingling warmth spread through me like a double shot of whiskey. I felt an overwhelming sense of rightness, a sense of peace, a sense of calm, a sense of happiness. I’d never felt anything so pure before. It was like, for the first time in my life, I was exactly where I was supposed to be with exactly who I was supposed to be with.

She stared down and then wiped her face as another tear slid down her cheek. “I’ll return it, you know when we…after the year is up.”

At the mention of our timeline, all the warmth that had just filled me cooled. This didn’t feel temporary, but I needed to remember that’s exactly what it was.

23

OLIVIA

I staredup at the Bridal Bliss sign, holding a pink box of goodies from Sweet Temptations in hand. I’d always dreamed of this moment. The moment right before I would head into the bridal shop and start planning my wedding.

In my dreams, I’d been madly in love with my fiancé. In my dreams I was counting the minutes until I could say I do. In my dreams, I was going to wear the custom Lugazzo gown.

But this wasn’t my dreams. This was real life. It wasn’t a fairy tale. It wasn’t a rom-com, despite the meet-cute that had ended in an emergency doctor’s visit. And despite the ten out of ten on the swoon scale proposal that Ben had given me.

I hadn’t read him as a romantic, but damn, that was almost more than my heart could take. Because it wasn’t real. I appreciated him doing it, because he was right, it would be easier if I didn’t have to lie about the proposal. I wouldn’t have to try and figure out what story we’d decided on. I could just remember what had actually happened and then pretend I was madly in love while I retold it. Which, if I wasn’t careful, I was going to end up being.

This entire thing felt like it was getting out of hand, but I had brought this on myself. I’d asked for it. Literally. So, as Uncle Mort was so fond of saying, I needed to drink a can of suck it up.

I’d gone to see him at the senior home he lived in first thing this morning and he was over the moon about my news. He was excited about walking me down the aisle, but seemed even more excited to gift Ben a tux for the wedding. Mort had owned and operated a men’s formal wear store for over sixty years before passing it down to his son Milo when he decided to retire and move into Bay View Senior Living. I tried to tell him that I was sure Ben had something for the wedding, but he’d insisted.

He'd even forced me to call Ben on FaceTime so he could tell him what he wanted to do. Thankfully, Ben was as gracious and kind as I could have ever hoped for in a real fiancé, which didn’t surprise me at all. He accepted Mort’s offer and thanked him for his gift.

The entire time I’d watched the two of them interacting, I couldn’t help but wonder what my dad would have thought about this arrangement if he was here. But that was an act in futility because he wasn’t.

I kept trying to tell myselflovewas not the only reason people got married…or divorced. I knew that better than anyone. Introducing love into the equation was a fairly new development in history. For centuries marital unions were arranged for political, financial, and familial gain.

So, in reality, my marriage was more traditional than people who married for love. But Bailey couldn’t know that. Where I was a closeted romantic, she was loud and proud. She would not be on board for me marrying Ben for any other reason than love.

I mean, unless she saw him with his shirt off, then she would definitely give me her stamp of approval.

But she wasn’t going to find out because no one, other than Trevor and, of course, Ben, could know that this was anythingother than a whirlwind romance that was headed down the aisle for matrimonial bliss.

Game face, I told myself.

I pushed open the glass door and it felt heavier than usual. I assumed it was because my arm was tired from wearing my cast. I couldn’t wait to get the sucker off. Just two more weeks and I’d have the use of my right hand again. That was part of why I’d suggested the day I had. It was one day after I got it removed.

Bailey glanced up from helping a bride at one of the racks, and a smile spread across her face. She lifted her hand, holding up her index finger, indicating she needed a minute. I nodded and headed to the consult area.

As I set down the box of goodies, I took a deep breath and pulled out my phone to check emails. I stopped when the light caught the ring.

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