Sweet Temptation - Wendy Higgins Page 0,121

The woman is quiet. “Well . . . there’s our personal vacation cabin. . . .”

My eyes snap open. “I’d hate to put you out, miss.”

“We don’t usually rent it out, but you sound like a nice young man. I suppose one night would be okay.”

I exhale a giant sigh and grin. “You are an angel. Thank you. I mean it. We’ll take good care of it.”

She sounds happy. “Let me make some calls and I’ll give you the lock code.”

I finish talking to the Grand Canyon angel, hoping her cabin is as beautiful as the ones posted online.

Next I scan through local jewelers on my mobile and head to the closest shop. As I browse at the counter, looking around for whisperers all the while, one thing becomes quickly apparent: I cannot buy Anna a diamond. They scream of matrimony. Every one of these sparklies would attract attention, even if she wore it on a different finger or hand. And the men’s bands are quite obvious as well.

This could take a while. I call Marna to help with some other things I won’t have time for.

“What can I do for you, darling?” she asks.

“I need clothes for tomorrow. I didn’t pack enough and I’m running low on time. Can you manage?”

“Absolutely. Anything else?”

“Food, perhaps.” I give her my sizes and get back to ring shopping.

In my search I happen upon a funky shop with artistic, handmade pieces. The prices are astronomical, but I don’t care. In fact, I’m glad to spend a lot on something to commemorate this day.

I consult the almighty Google to learn of Anna’s May birthstone, the emerald. Almost immediately my eye is drawn to a small ring with Celtic vines knotted around a circular emerald. The shop woman takes it out for me.

“What size do you need?” she asks.

Size? I haven’t the slightest clue.

“Er, small?”

“This one is five and a quarter,” she says. “It’s a rather small size. It won’t fit on my hand.” She holds her hand out for me to see, and it’s definitely larger than Anna’s. I don’t want to mess this up, but I haven’t much choice. The look of it is perfect.

She shows me the men’s rings next and I gravitate to the thick black tribal designs. I point to the most wicked-looking one, the design etched into silver just like Anna’s.

“I’ll take them both.”

I scan the clear skies as I leave the shop with our rings. Our wedding rings.

I shake my head and drive for the airport.

Blake’s plane is killer, roomier than Father’s jet, with that new leather smell.

He welcomes me aboard with a grin and a salute.

“This is brilliant, mate.”

He crosses his arms, peering around. “Yeah, being the son of Envy has its advantages.”

“Bloody right,” I say, setting down my bag.

“Well, we’re all fueled up and ready to go when everyone gets here.”

My insides dip with a fluttery, falling sensation and I grip the top of the seat I’m standing near. Blake laughs.

“You nervous, man? Don’t puke on the upholstery.”

“I won’t,” I mutter, forcing myself to straighten. I’ve no reason to be feeling strange.

Except perhaps for the fact that I’m going to be a husband. This wasn’t exactly something I envisioned for myself. It was never in my nature to commit. Anna’s shown me it’s okay to hope for something more, to want something better. The things I was taught to think of as weaknesses I now recognize as strengths. I can’t explain why I’m so jittery when everything feels so right. I just don’t want to bung it up.

“So, what’s the plan?” Blake asks. “You thought about where I should take you guys afterward?”

“Yeah.” I tell him about the Grand Canyon. He fist-bumps me again before returning to the cockpit to ready the plane.

I sit at the open space in the back where I can rest my head in my hands and think for a minute. I want this to be perfect for Anna.

I’ve sat like that a long while, trying to get rid of these ridiculous nerves, when I hear feminine giggles coming up the jet steps. The twins burst through the doors, Marna chipper and Ginger looking exhausted. Behind them is Anna, and when I see her staring around the cabin in awe, I remember who I’m dealing with here. Anna is not your picky perfectionist. My girl finds beauty in the small things. Seeing her puts me at ease. I lean back and watch her, one hand behind my head.

She’s changed into a white,

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