Page 36 of Just My Luck

Abel shifted his stance. “Just something simple. Traditional.”

A flutter rippled across my chest. I looked down at the case and found a simple band similar to the one I wore, only thicker and more suited for a man’s hand. “What about that one?” I pointed to it.

The woman followed my finger and plucked the band from its cushion and placed it on a black mat in front of us. “A classic choice.”

I held out my own hand. “I thought it matched mine.”

Abel stared at the band in stunned silence as if he were staring at another prison sentence.

“Do we know your ring size? It’s unlikely it will fit out of the case, but you could try it on and see if you like the style.”

When he didn’t move, I picked up the ring and slipped it onto his left hand. My eyes went wide. “It fits.”

Abel flexed his hand and stared at the ring.

“Do you like it?” I whispered to him.

His eyes caught mine and he nodded. “I do.”

A giddy excitement raced through me. “We’ll take it!”

Before he could back out, I presented my debit card.

Abel stopped me with a brush of his hand against my forearm. “I got it.”

I smiled, hoping the clerk wouldn’t see our back-and-forth play out. “No, really. It’s the least I could do.” I leaned in closer. “Besides, I can take it out of your cut of the trust fund.” I winked and Abel softened at my gentle teasing.

“I’m paying.”

A flutter erupted inside my chest at his soft, yet commanding, voice.

“Okay.” I swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

Once the ring was paid for, we hurried out of the store. In the light of day, we were immediately thrust back into reality.

I looked up at the shining sun and exhaled. “Guess we should go break the news to your dear old dad. You ready?”

Abel looked at his ring and flexed his hand again. “I guess there’s no turning back now.”

I beamed up at him as a flurry of nerves tickled my tummy. “Nope.”

FOURTEEN

SLOANE

Russell King’sprimary office was miles away in the city of Chicago. When he wasn’t traveling for work or in Chicago, he mainly operated from an opulent office in the King family home.

According to Sylvie, Bug King had taken over the residence when Maryann King abandoned her children and their father was too consumed with business to care. Still, Russell operated out of the home when he needed to.

Abel and I bumped along the country roads as we made our way to the King estate. When we pulled down the long driveway, I shielded my eyes from the summer sun.

I’d visited Sylvie and her sister MJ at the King home before. It always struck me as out of place in such a quaint small town, but the Kings never seemed to do anything small. Large steps led to a grand oak door carved with intricate details.

I quietly followed Abel as he opened the front door without knocking. As it always was when I had visited Sylvie in the past, the interior was pristine, with floor-to-ceiling windows casting a golden glow over the tastefully arranged furniture. Every corner exuded money and power, with high ceilings and thick drapes. When we reached a closed door, Abel paused before knocking.

I took a deep breath. If the whisperings about Russell King were true, Abel would have to appeal to his mercurial temperament and business savvy.

“Come in.” Russell King’s voice boomed through the thick wooden door.

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