Page 131 of Tangled Kisses
Which is exactly why I need to know how much that gorgeous stone costs and figure out a way to slip it onto her finger.
Now seems the perfect opportunity, as she’s busy fingering a rack of fleece pajama sets, the kind plastered with moose and snowflakes—soft enough to curl into for a long winter night.
I dip down, brush a kiss against the back of her neck, and breathe in the faint trace of her shampoo. “I’ll be right back.”
She glances over her shoulder, holding up a pair of ridiculous pajama bottoms. “You don’t want to watch me try these sexy things on?”
I huff out a laugh. “Those are fleece, honey. Save some fun for later.”
Her cheeks flush pink as she swats at my chest, giggling. “Fine. Go.”
I linger just long enough to memorize that smile before stepping back onto the sidewalk—where my gaze immediately snags on the jewelry store across the street.
The bell over the door chimes when I step inside, the air carrying the faint tang of polish and metal. Glass cases sparkle under the lights, filled with promises I’ve never been able to afford. My boots sound too heavy on the tile, like I don’t belong here.
Until I see it.
According to the display card, it’s a padparadscha sapphire. One carat, fire and sunset caught in crystal. Unique. Rare. Just like her.
“Beautiful piece, isn’t it?” The jeweler, an older guy with kind eyes, says as he slips out from the back. “Hard to come by. Mind if I take it out for you?”
I nod, throat tight, and he unlocks the case, setting the ring on a velvet pad. Even under the shop lights, it blazes. My pulse kicks hard.
He glances at me, then grins. “Guess your lady is the one I saw across the street, poking at those flannel pajamas?”
A laugh shakes out of me. “Moose-print fleece. Sexy as hell.”
He chuckles. “That’s one way to spend an afternoon.” His finger brushes the tag. “Eight thousand. One carat. Clean stone. Worth every penny.”
Eight thousand. Shit. It’s magnificent, and so far out of reach it might as well be on the moon.
The jeweler studies me for a moment, his voice softening. “We do layaway. Normally five hundred down, but two-fifty would lock it in for thirty days. Give you time to decide. And if you change your mind, you get the money back.”
Two-fifty. Still not easy. Still means pushing bills around. But my hand hovers near the counter, because this isn’t just a ring. This is Reese.
I clear my throat. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
He nods once, like he knew I’d say that, and moves the ring carefully to the back. “I’ll keep it safe for you.”
When I step outside again, sunlight scatters off the glass storefronts, too bright for my burning eyes. I tell myself it’ll work out. It has to. Because I’ll move heaven and earth to see that ring on her finger.
I scan the shop windows for Reese, expecting to find her still buried in those ridiculous moose pajamas.
She’s not there.
I round the corner—and stop cold.
She’s pressed tight against the brick, phone clutched to her ear, shoulders hunched in that way I remember from the first night we talked.
“There’s nothing else to say, Vander. Tell your friends whatever you want—it doesn’t matter. No, I’m not flying back to New York just to explain why we broke up.”
A muffled roar bleeds through the receiver, sharp enough that I can make out the venom from here.
Reese’s chin drops, and then her voice fractures. “Fine. Say it. Tell them I’m a useless, lying whore. Tell them I’m nothing. Does that make you feel better? Does that?—”
Hearing those words in her voice makes my stomach turn. She believes it, at least part of her does, and I’ll be damned if I let him carve that poison into her again.
I cover the distance in three strides, snatch the phone from her grip. My voice is ice when I press it to my ear. “That’s enough.”
