Micah turned to face me. "I thought you already had a ring."

  "We do. But back then, I didn't care what it looked like. Well, I didn't care enough. I wanted to own her. And that's not what this is about now."

  Micah lifted a brow. "You fell for her, didn't you?"

  I shrugged. "It's hard not to. She's smart, she's beautiful, compassionate, she wants to help and fix everyone. But she's not a saint. She has quite a temper. Stubborn. Jesus Christ, she's so fucking mule-headed. Always thinks she knows best. Fiercely independent. And she's terrified of being rejected. And the next thing I knew, there I was fucking falling in love with her. I didn't even know what had happened."

  My brother graced me with one of his biggest smiles.

  Jean Pierre opened one of the cases with the keys from his pockets. "Let's look at settings, shall we?"

  Micah had apparently always wanted an engagement ring, because my brother oohed and aahed like he was getting the ring slipped on his finger.

  "Look at that one,” he said excitedly. “Classic. You can't miss with classic."

  I looked at the ostentatious design and laughed. "Well yes, I'd be able to find her in a crowd. I'm pretty sure you'd see anything in that setting from space. I don’t think that’s it for Gwen. She is elegant. Not really fussy. She doesn't wear a lot of jewelry."

  Jean Pierre nodded. "I'll be back. I have some settings in the back I was working on earlier."

  By the time he came back, Micah had already stalked several cases of women's pinky rings and was staring at them under the light.

  "God help whoever you marry, brother. You're going to be obnoxious."

  “Yeah, and what exactly are you looking for in an engagement ring?”

  "Hey, I'm trying to get her the ring that screams, ‘My husband-to-be is Atticus Price. All interlopers beware.’ But if it was that easy, I wouldn't have any problems. Lakewood has continued making a nuisance of himself."

  Micah rolled his eyes. "For fuck's sake. If that was going to happen, it would have happened already. Why can't you get it through your head that Gwen only sees him as a friend? But if you want me to get the fixers on it, Pierce will do it."

  "No, I don't want this fixed. And what do you mean, Wade will do it? Do what?"

  Micah grinned and shrugged. "Don't worry about what I just said. You just focus on getting the perfect bauble for my new sister-in-law, will you?"

  So for the next hour, we worked with Jean Pierre. Micah finally started to focus when I was giving my design ideas. He'd interject, directing me several times, telling me that I was going too big and Gwen would like something more delicate.

  "I need something big enough to hold the diamond."

  Micah sat back, assessing. "Okay, I like how you think. It needs to be sturdy. Thick." When he said thick, his brows lifted, and then he fell over in a fit of laughter. The fool was laughing and I couldn’t help but join in. When was the last time we’d laughed like this anyway?

  Jean Pierre chuckled. "Don’t worry. We'll find her the right diamond. Or jewel. Maybe she's a ruby girl."

  I thought about her red lips. The way she always seemed to be wearing bright red lipstick of some color. Varying colors, actually. Sometimes it would be a darker red, and sometimes it would be a more muted shade, but it was always red.

  "Hm, maybe a ruby. Is that too nontraditional?"

  Jean Pierre smiled. "I do love a woman in red."

  When I finally found the stone, I knew I had the right fit. The setting design was thin, with delicate diamonds placed around, and then the setting itself crisscrossed with white gold and rose gold. So she'd be able to wear both gold and silver, depending on her outfit. At least that’s what Jean Pierre said. And the stone itself was a brilliant cut pink ruby. In some light, it was extremely pale, so it wouldn't flash too much. In other lighting, it was deeply pink, and in some it was red. It was perfect.

  Now I just prayed she said yes… And not just because of the contract.

  Chapter 33

  Atticus

  When was the last time I was nervous?

  I paced back and forth, wearing a pattern in the middle of my living room as I waited for Gwen.

  The soft click-clack of her heels alerted me, and I turned to watch her walk in.

  I wasn't prepared.

  Not. At. All.

  She’d straightened her hair and smoothed it up mostly off her face, but she’d left some wisps to frame her sculpted cheekbones and jawline. The rest of her hair hung past her shoulders in soft waves. Instead of a little black dress, she wore red. Vermilion red. The kind of red that was brighter than a fire engine and would have everyone turning to stare at her.

  Simple spaghetti straps led to a V showcasing the tits I wanted to plant my face between and never come up for air. Something seemed to push them together, hugging her waist but not too tight. Her gorgeous curves and ass led to ruffles around her mid-thighs. I could see her toes peeking out in her heels, and she smiled when she saw me.

  "There you are. Which earrings? These or these?" She turned, showcasing a silvery-dangling one on the right that looked like dental threads and one on the left that was a simple diamond stud.

  Unfortunately, all I could do was stare at her. "Yes."

  She laughed uncertainly. "That's not an answer I can work with. These or these?"

  "I, uh…" I couldn't fucking think. Did she know what she looked like? "Sorry, but I'm really just thinking that we might not leave the house tonight."

  "Oh, we're leaving, sir. I got dressed. I left a meeting and a mountain of work. We are leaving this house."

  I blinked rapidly. "No, of course we're leaving this house. I need to spoil you. You don't often let me."

  "Right. The spoiling. I have to get used to that, don't I?"

  "Yes." I walked up to her, gently brushing her hair off her shoulder, and I leaned in, meaning to give her a soft, chaste kiss. But Christ, that scent. Something with a hint of sweetness chased by spice. I inhaled, nuzzling the hollow of her throat.

  A groan followed a soft, breathy catch in her voice. "Oh, my God, Atticus."

  "God, you smell incredible."

  "You still haven't answered my question."

  "Fine. Dangly things. You can leave them on in bed."

  "Atticus."

  I cleared my throat and forced myself to pull back. Never mind the erection tenting my pants. I'd gone with a more casual suit because I figured we'd also maybe go out dancing if that's what she wanted to do. Fuck me, now I was really nervous. I couldn't fucking think. My brain cells were not coming online.

  "Okay, let me get the other earring, then we'll go."

  All I could do was nod as I watched her slink back to our room. Goddamn, she was absolutely gorgeous.

  She was back in less than a minute with her clutch in hand and something gossamer looking that appeared to be a shawl.

  "That's not going to keep you warm,” I said.

  "Isn't that what I have you for?"

  Hell yes. "Abso-fucking-lutely. I just want you to know that I'm exhibiting a Herculean amount of self-control right now, because I am really thinking of picking you up and sitting you on that counter and eating you for dessert."

  She gave me a blinding smile, and my heart stopped. Holy fucking Christ, she was so goddamn beautiful, and she was mine.

  Our first stop for the night was this cute little spot that my friend Andre owned. It was tiny and nestled in the heart of Spanish Harlem, and you had to basically know it was there to even find it. But they made the absolute best mojitos I’d ever tasted. When we pulled up, I was worried she might be disappointed. After all, she'd gotten so dolled up. But her eyes weren't on the neighborhood or the restaurant. They were on me. "So, I'm completely in your hands. This will be fun."

  "Absolutely."

  Gavin opened my door and smirked at me. I lifted my brow at him, and he murmured. "She's too hot for you."

  "Fuck off. I know that."

  He chuckled again, enjoying himself far too much. That was the problem with having your friends work with you. They thought they were fucking hilarious. I walked around to Gwen's side, opened the door for her, and she took my hand delicately. Her lips looked even more inviting than they had when we left the house.

  "I don't know how I'll make it all night and not fucking eat you raw."

  "Well, you can do that later."

  "Promise?"

  Her giggle was like music to my ears. I led her inside, and Andre met us at the door. The interior was pure Cuban charm. The music was low, but I could hear the bongos and maracas that injected an urgency to move to the soft salsa music.

  Andre gave me a tight hug. "Well, well, Atticus Price, good to see you uptown. I was starting to think you had forgotten I was here."

  "Never. How could I? I like to check on your mother once in a while."

  He rolled his eyes. "That woman. She's already back there cooking for you."

  "I thought Mama Luz didn't work in the kitchen anymore."

  "When she heard her favorite, Atticus, was coming by, she shooed the chefs out like it was her personal kitchen at home. That woman."

  I laughed and then introduced him to Gwen. And being the charming fool that he was, he took her hand and bent over. Instead of placing a kiss on the back of her hand, he turned her palm over and kissed it.

  Gwen gasped in surprise then laughed. "Oh, my."

  "Forgive me. A beautiful lady should be seduced."

  I took Gwen's hand from his. "Don't mind him. He was raised in a barn."

  "It's nice to meet you, Andre. I haven't met any of Atticus's friends."

  "That's because he has so few."

  "Don't listen to him. He lies," I muttered.

  "Yes, well, considering you're the first one I’ve met, I'm starting to think you might be right about that."

  I rolled my eyes. "Not my wife-to-be and my best friend roasting me."

  "Well, do you deserve to be roasted, husband-to-be?" Her eyes were dancing, and I could tell she was having fun.

  Andre looked back and forth between us. "Hm, I think she's good for you. Atticus Price making gooey eyes at a woman. A sight I never thought I would see, but I love it. Come with me. Let's get you some drinks."

  I was pulling out all the stops for her. I had a full night planned for us. But I also wanted to make sure she wouldn't be too tired. She'd been working non-stop, still burning the candle at both ends, but she'd made a concerted effort to be home on time for our date. I’d had a full day myself, but for her, I just got up and walked out on my last meeting. Micah had just looked amused. Normally, he'd have been freaking out.

  Andre sent a platter of dishes, most of which I didn't even know what they were. And of course, he served his delicious mojitos. The delight on her face when she took a sip unfortunately had me thinking about her mouth wrapped around my cock.

  She was happy. That was all that mattered.

  "How do you know Andre?"

  "Oh, him? Tales of a misspent youth."

  "No, I'm serious."

  "College. He went to Yale with me. His mother was hell bent and determined that he'd go to Yale, but after graduation, he was just as determined to come back and run the family business. We’ve just gotten closer over the years. It seems I couldn't shake him."

  "I'm sure you tried."

  "Maybe. I'm not used to making a lot of friends. But Andre stuck. When he was looking for investors for Cubana Havana, I threw money at him before he dared look elsewhere."

  "So, you're an investor?"

  “Yeah. He’s already bought it back from me, but I keep a small one percent share just so I can say I'm one of the cool kids."

  She watched me as she took another sip of her drink. "You look so relaxed."

  "I am relaxed."

  "Well, I mean in a way I have never seen you before. You're always so controlled."

  "Not always," I said with a wink.

  My mind offered up the oh-so-unhelpful memory of the two of us in her office. Of course, I was reminded of just what I'd done with that cake.

  I cleared my head and shook it. "You make me lose control. Every time. I usually don't know what to do about it."

  "I don't think there's anything you can do about it."

  "Who are you, Gwen?"

  "I'm just a girl, sitting in front of a boy, asking him to love her."

  That little word. I was choking on it. And her eyes went wide. "Oh my God, you should see your face. I'm not asking you to love me. I'm just quoting Notting Hill. You know, the movie,” she murmured.

  "I have seen the movie."

  "Oh, thank God. Because I'm not⁠—"

  I reached across the table and took her hand. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Gwen, be quiet. I'm going to kiss you now. Regardless of whether or not you're asking me to love you, I'm halfway there already."

  Her hands were shaking. As was her smile. "I think I might have a little crush on you, too."

  I took her face in my hands and pulled her closer. Our lips barely touching. "I think I know how that feels."

  "You're not going to break my heart, are you?" she asked hesitantly.

  I shook my head. "No, never."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  "Because I'm not just halfway there. I'm all the way there. I think I fell in love with you when you glitter-bombed me."

  I watched her eyes close as my lips touched hers again. And I didn't think I'd ever stop kissing her, but I needed to do this before I lost my nerve.

  I broke our kiss and lowered myself to one knee. "I figure I should do this properly."

  She was staring at me in disbelief. "Atticus?"

  "Gwen, I’m falling for you. Being with you feels more real to me than anything I’ve ever done. I want this to be a real marriage. Will you marry me?"

  She smiled and nodded and then started to cry. "Yes, I'll marry you, Atticus. I’ll marry you for real. Not because of a contract or a deal. Because of you."

  I stood up and kissed her, and then I whispered in her ear, "I will do everything in my power to make you happy."

  As the smile spread over her lips, I knew I had found my home.

  Chapter 34

  Gwen

  When was the last time I’d been able to do a margarita night? Things had been so crazy for so long, and I hadn't really wanted to go out or hang out. But being able to do margarita night with Morgan and Lance, I felt like I was finding myself again.

  My ring glinted under the lights and there was no way I could hold the smile back. A few weeks ago, my father forced my hand, and now I was dopily in love. The warmth spread in my chest just thinking about him on one knee.

  A part of me kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I was too damned elated to care. And knowing he’d had this ring made for me banished my worries. He’d made it to match me. He’d been paying attention to me. Of all the people in my life, he saw me.

  Atticus had even kissed me goodbye and told me to have fun. He hadn't given me any of his usual 'Where are you going? Who are you going with?' questions. He just told me to go have a good time. Granted, I was only going back to my old apartment. When I let myself in, the doorman smiled at me, but I didn't recognize him. He must have been new. Considering I had a key fob, he had no reason to stop me. He just called out a bland, “Good evening, miss,” and I didn't ask for his name because… Well, while I still had a place there, I didn't live there anymore. I'd have to eventually figure out what I was going to do with it. I certainly wasn't going to sell it. That was insane. I could rent it or keep it, just in case.

  Just in case, what?

  Ugh, why was I like this?

  I let myself in to find Morgan and Lance already at it.

  "For the love of God, Lance, that is not how you do it."

  "I never had any complaints before. Wales women like it like that."

  "Well, I'm not a Wales woman. Jesus Christ, move over. You're just doing too much. Use less."

  "I'm not using less. Wales women want me to use more."

  I snorted a laugh as I walked in on the two of them fighting over the tequila bottle.

  "Honestly, from the door it sounded like you two were fighting about how much dick Lance was going to use."

  Lance looked stricken. Morgan gagged. I just rolled my eyes.

  One of these days, if I could just get them to stop fighting long enough, they might actually realize that they were a good match, but it was very unlikely. They were more likely to murder each other. Mutually assured destruction.

  "Somebody margarita me. It has been way too long."

  Lance handed me my margarita, no salt on the rim.

  Morgan took hers, which was fuller than mine. "Hey, are you drinking?" I asked.

  "Oh relax, it's virgin."

  "Honey, you're in college. I doubt that's virgin."

  "Well, I have to go and study tonight, so it is virgin."

  I groaned. "Noooo, Morgan. This is supposed to be a night off. Now I'm going to want to hover over you and ride you about how you should be studying."

  "Relax, I've been studying the whole week. I'm just taking part of the night off. I'll go back and do a little bit more light reading. But tequila is not conducive to reading. And you both have to work tomorrow, which Lance was apparently forgetting, because he was just pouring the whole bottle of tequila into his mouth."

  I laughed. "Well, Lance will feel it just as much as I do in that case."

  He winced at that and then took his glass. "All right, let's head out onto the balcony. I want to talk to you about something."

  I sighed. For the last two days, I had known something was up with him. But he hadn't said a word. I just assumed it had been the whole move thing, being a part of Pendragon, and my impending marriage.

  I knew I was going to have to do something about the fact that Lance didn't approve of Atticus and was worried about me.

  It's more than that and you know it.

  I didn't want to think about it. Our friendship had always been so easy. So simple. He was the one person other than my sister I could share everything with. And there was never any pressure. He’d never been my boyfriend. When Michael and I broke up, Lance had a girlfriend, and when they broke up a year later, we were fully entrenched in our, we are best friends vibes. More and more lately, I was feeling a shift in our connection. I hadn't thought much about it. I just thought we were evolving, and he was worried, especially after the Bronson thing. He saw himself as my protector, which I appreciated. And I knew that he needed me to need him. Which I couldn't do just to make him happy anymore.