From the delicate curve of the setting to the custom clasp detail, I’d bet my sketchbook it was designed from scratch.
And unless Ashton had been carrying it around for fun, it ant he’d pulled this together in the last few hours.
For .
My chest tightened like my lungs were being rude and forgetting how to function.
Then he leaned in closer, and suddenly the side of my ear went warm.
I felt sothing—light, soft, like lips—but it was gone so fast I wasn’t sure it’d happened.
He reached forward and gently touched the necklace now hanging around my neck.
‘That brooch didn’t suit you,’ he said. ‘This fits better. You like it?’
I managed to find my voice, just barely. ‘Yeah... I like it.’
I hadn’t even seen what it looked like on , but I didn’t need a mirror to know it was stunning.
It was the kind of piece that made people stop mid-sentence.
Ashton gave a little satisfied smile, then his eyes flicked to the ring box still sitting on my lap.
‘So I gave you a gift,’ he said. ‘Aren’t you ant to give one too?’
I blinked.
I had no idea gift-exchanging was part of the program.
‘But I didn’t prepare anything. Can I get you sothing in a few days?’
‘But you have one ready,’ he said, tapping the ring box with a finger. ‘Give this.’
‘What?’ I sat up straight. ‘No, I—’
That ring was from my grandmother.
She’d left it to .
I’d planned to keep it, maybe redesign it one day.
Definitely not give it away.
‘Let’s see what it is,’ he said.
I opened the box.
The gold band sat quietly inside, old but elegant.
Not pure gold, it had silvery floral etchings around the band that shimred if you caught them at the right angle.
Ashton’s gaze dipped. ‘This one’s nice.’
I shrugged. ‘It’s an old style. Not worth much. Probably not your thing.’
‘But I think it looks good.’
His tone was easy, casual, like he hadn’t just put on the spot.
He didn’t push again.
Which sohow made it worse.
Now if I didn’t give it to him, I’d look petty.
I hesitated. Overthought. Stared at his annoyingly handso face while he sat there pretending to be totally chill.
When the silence stretched too long, he said, ‘If the ring’s too valuable and you’d rather get sothing else for , I understand. It’s fine.’
I turned to look at him.
Too valuable?
He must be kidding, and he knew it.
The necklace he gave was worth a hundred of this ring.
His face was calm, sa as always, but there was this... quiet sort of disappointnt in his eyes.
Goddammit.
I shoved the box towards him. ‘Fine. But don’t regret it.’
‘I won’t.’ He took the ring, waited, looked at expectantly.
When I made no move to put the ring on for him, he slid it onto his ring finger.
It was a little snug, but still looked good on him, because of course it did.
I bit down on my lip. ‘Might be too small. I can get a new one.’
Ashton held up his hand and turned it, checking it out like he’d just scored sothing off a private auction. ‘Fits fine.’
‘...Right.’
The engine kicked on.
I told him to drop at Nyx Collective.
On the way, I said, ‘You don’t have to keep calling Miss Vance, by the way. Especially not in front of people. If we’re doing this fake marriage thing, we might as well commit to the bit.’
Ashton glanced at , the corner of his mouth twitching. ‘What should I call you instead? Mrs Laurent?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Just call by my na.’
He nodded. ‘Mirabelle? Or... Mira?’
I felt that.
Like—actual physical reaction.
Full-body static, tingly as hell.
Just one word and my brain went straight to the gutter—like, zero detours.
I could totally picture him saying my na like that in bed, slow and low, all heat and hands and ssed-up sheets.
I clamped my legs together on reflex and stared hard out the car window, praying he hadn’t seen my face go up in flas.
‘Yeah... Mira’s.... Mira’s fine.’
We were about halfway there when he asked, ‘Still not doing the wedding?’
‘Wedding?’ I blinked. ‘Yeah. Still a no.’
This whole thing was a contract with a one-year expiry date.
A wedding reception would’ve turned it into front-page fodder for weeks.
He went quiet for a second, then said, ‘Alright. Whatever you want.’
The ntion of wedding reminded of why he’d agreed to go along.
I turned to him. ‘When are we visiting your grandfather?’
‘What?’
‘You said he wanted to see you get married before he... I’d have thought he’d want to et .’
‘That... Right, he would love to et you. I’ll talk to his, ah, doctors and see about arranging a visit.’
‘Is he staying at a hospital then?’
‘A sanatorium. His condition doesn’t permit him to move about much.’
‘I should bring sothing. What kind of presents will he like?’
A smile entered his voice. ‘Your presence alone with suffice to make his day. That, and the wedding certificate.’
‘Got it.’ I couldn’t tear my eyes off the rearview mirror.
The pendant necklace looked like sothing I’d have designed in a fever dream—if I had fifty years of experience, a royal jeweller for a ntor, and spent my childhood playing dress-up with the Crown Jewels.
The car slowed as we neared Nyx Collective.
‘Give a sec.’ I took out the marriage certificate, snapped a couple photos.
Ashton glanced over.
I gave a sheepish grin. ‘Promised Yvaine I’d text her as soon as we got it done. Forgot earlier.’
He just humd.
Once the car stopped, I jumped out.
As I walked off, I caught a glimpse of Ashton still sitting there, holding his own certificate like he was reading between the lines.
Reviews
All reviews (0)