Page 35 of For Butter or for Worse
“Ow!” There’s a bang as Coop shouts, pulling all our attention to the other side of the shop where he seems to be attempting to use gravity to pull the ring free. I’m not sure how jumping is supposed to help him, and it looks like he’s already crashed into the hat display next to him.
“Is he okay?” Cecily asks.
I shrug. “He got stuck in a turtle ring.”
“Does he need help?” Georgie asks.
“Probably. Does it fit?” I nod toward the ring she’s holding.
Georgie slips the ring onto her left ring finger and holds it up so it catches the light. A knot forms in my stomach when I notice how similar the green color is to her eyes. Far closer than anything I found back then, though it’s not an exact match. I doubt there’s anything in the world that can match the vibrant color of her eyes. They’re as unique as she is.
Cecily clears her throat.
“Yes!” Georgie drops her hand, her cheeks blossoming with pink. “Yes, it fits.”
I smile. “Good.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Sighing with exasperation, Cecily pulls a bottle of lotion out of her purse and then stomps across the store to Coop, leaving me alone with Georgie.
I’m both annoyed and grateful.
“I found one for you too,” Georgie says and gives me a thumbs up. It takes me a second to realize it’s because she’s wearing the ring on her thumb. It’s a silver band with a wave etched into the metal. “It’s kind of cheesy, but I figured we could use all the cheese we can get to sell this thing.”
Before I can say anything, she grabs hold of my left hand and slides the ring on for me. Surprisingly, it fits decently well. I’ll have to be sure to leave it in the office before I take students out to the surf so it doesn’t slip off in the water. I have a sudden, heart-gripping fear that I’ll lose the stupid thing within hours of Georgie giving it to me.
“It’s dumb,” she says and goes to pull it off again.
I grab her hand to stop her. “I like it.” Just like how I like holding her hand. Her skin is soft beneath the pads of my fingers, though a bit dry because she has to wash them so often when baking. I should pick up some lotion for the bakery. I don’t know if she is the sort to need one of the super fancy kinds that can only be found in specialty stores in the city, but regardless, I should get her something. These hands can work miracles in a kitchen, and they deserve to be cared for as much as the rest of her does.
“King,” Georgie whispers, pulling my eyes from her hands to her face. Her gaze is hooded. Wary. But there’s plenty of desire in there for me to know it’s not just me who hasn’t liked the last couple of days of being apart.
“You’re going to leave,” I remind myself out loud.
“And you never will,” she says in turn.
Our hands slip apart as we simultaneously turn to see if Cecily has managed to free Coop from his predicament.
In the end, we leave the store with three rings. Mine, Georgie’s, and the one that is currently cutting off Coop’s circulation.
Chapter Thirteen
Georgie
“I must say, thisis all very irregular.” Mr. Vanderman squints at us from behind his bifocals before looking back down at the large stack of papers in his hands.
He’s pretty much been saying variations of that same thing for the last twenty minutes, and every time he does, I get a little more nervous. If I can’t get my name added to the deed for the bakery, this marriage will have been for nothing. No wonder King stressed our need to make our marriage look legit.
King’s hand tightens around mine as he shifts a bit in his seat. “Uncle Bill always talked about how he wanted Georgie to have the bakery.”
“Then he should have left it to her,” Mr. Vanderman mutters to himself. He holds one sheet of paper closer to his face, hiding himself from view as he reads it.
King frowns, but there’s something in his expression that speaks of resignation. If he’s already willing to give up, we’re goingto have a problem.
I sit forward. “Mr. Vanderman, Bill must have known King and I were going to end up here eventually, but he wasn’t sure when I would be coming back to Willow Cove. He probably thought it was safer if he left it to—”
“His family, Miss Carpenter.” Mr. Vanderman peers at me over the top of the paper. “I’ve noticed you haven’t applied to change your name yet.”
Of course he would point that out. I look at King, who doesn’t look back. We already had this discussion, but I don’t think the stuffy attorney will accept “it sounds funny” as a suitable reason to keep my maiden name over Kingston. I scramble for some other excuse. “Carpenter is my professional name, and the one I’m known by in the baking world. For the sake of the bakery, I thought I should keep it.”
