Page 17 of Billion Dollar Vow (The Lincoln Brothers #4)

I lean my head close to her ear, watching her throat move as she swallows. “What if I enjoy practicing my role as husband?”

She lightly shoves me away and rolls her eyes playfully. “I wonder what I’ll have to put up with when we’re actually married.”

Before I can stop myself, I wink and respond, “You have no idea...”

I can see the wheels turning in her head as if she’s going to ask me something as we step inside, but Grant Winston interrupts us.

“Mr. Lincoln. The one I have yet to meet,” he says, a reminder of how single I still am as everyone else in my family had their wedding bands made by him.

He's around sixty, with gray hair and a short black beard peppered with more gray.

He wears a navy suit that keeps him looking professional and yet approachable.

“Hi, Mr. Winston, thanks for having us on such short notice.” I reach out to shake his hand.

“It’s good to see you again.” He clasps my hand briefly, then turns his attention to Karley.

“This is my fiancée, Karley.” The word fiancée feels foreign yet natural for a lie that’s only hours old.

Karley smiles as she takes in the surroundings.

It’s just the three of us here, so it’s quiet, but with all the lights on, the shop sparkles.

Floor-to-ceiling glass cases display diamonds and gemstones so flawless they don’t look real; each piece resting on velvet like it’s royalty.

Crystal chandeliers hang overhead, casting soft, golden reflections across the marble floors.

The walls are a deep, rich navy, making the jewelry pop like stars against the night sky.

Mr. Winston works alone, always has. Not because he can’t afford help; he could hire an entire staff if he wanted, but because no one else meets his standards.

Every piece in here has passed through his hands, shaped by his expert eye.

“So, you're here for something available to take now?” he asks. “Cora explained—”

“I don't think Cora has explained…” I interrupt. “This is not to be mentioned to anyone from my family.”

Winston’s eyes widen. “Why is that?”

“We’re eloping,” I say, matter-of-factly.

Karley remains unusually quiet, and when I glance at her from the corner of my eye, she looks rigid, her hands still at her sides. Immediately turning to her, I whisper, “Are you okay?”

“I didn't want to interrupt you,” she says, trying to wave me off, but she doesn't seem like herself. Quieter…

I turn back to Mr. Winston. “I’d pay extra for you to keep this just between us until I'm ready to announce it to the family.”

“Not necessary,” he assures me. “So, who would like to start?” His eyes dart between mine and Karley’s.

I suddenly realize I’ll need to choose a ring too. I’ve been so focused on Karley that I didn’t even think about myself. What would I like?

I turn to Karley, asking, “Do you want me to go first?”

She nods. Her face has paled. Maybe watching me choose something first will ease her nervousness.

“I didn’t have anything specific in mind,” I admit to Mr. Winston. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin. This is all new to me.”

He turns around. “Let's start with something simple and classic. For men, I have gold, platinum, and black.”

I turn to Karley. “What do you think?”

She looks up at me, her eyes bright and wide. “I don't know. Whatever you prefer.”

I’d hoped she might have an opinion; her detachment makes me uneasy.

We follow Winston over to the glass cabinets. I pull out an emerald velvet chair for Karley, and she sits, nodding her thanks. I take my seat next to her.

He pulls out a selection. “We should start by choosing a color,” he suggests. “Then we can decide on a design.”

“Okay,” I mumble as this all becomes very real.

Winston pulls out a gold band, so I slip it on my left finger. It feels cold and strange.

I shake my head. “I don't like this color on me. It just doesn't feel right.”

“Well, let's try the black next,” Mr. Winston offers.

I hand back the gold band and slip on the black. Again, it doesn't feel or look quite right. Part of me wants to pick anything and be done with it. After all, this is all just for show. But then I worry that others will notice and question our relationship. “No, I don't like this color either.”

“Picky much,” Karley teases under her breath.

I shift my gaze to find her grinning.

“I bet you’ll be worse, wife ,” I tease back.

Mr. Winston clears his throat. “The last option would be platinum.”

“I never pictured you as a platinum guy,” Karley remarks.

“I'm full of surprises,” I reply, earning a classic eye roll from her. I grin as I take off the black band and slip on the platinum one. It looks good on my hand… feels like it belongs there. “Yeah, I like the platinum.”

“Would you like any design? Maybe stones?” Mr. Winston asks.

I look down at the display, at the different platinum rings. There are so many designs, but I can’t decide without knowing what Karley’s going to choose. For some reason, I want them to match. Even though I’ll only be wearing the band for the short term.

“Why don’t we figure out Karley’s choice first and come back to mine?” I suggest, handing the band back. “But I think a plain platinum band will suit me the best.”

“Yes, Mr. Lincoln,” Mr. Winston says, putting the other bands back.

I lean in close to her ear, getting a good inhale of her sweet apple shampoo. “You ready?”

“Get out of here,” she mumbles, pushing my shoulder back gently as she stands. “This ought to be fun,” she adds sarcastically.

I rise, and we follow Mr. Winston, who’s holding the ring I chose, to another area of the shop. He settles behind another glass display of rings. I pull out a chair for Karley, and she sits, this time her body settling more easily.

“So, what do you think?” Mr. Winston asks.

“I always thought I’d go for gold,” she admits, tilting her head slightly, as if she’s thought about this before. A twinge of guilt hits me, knowing she’s probably thinking about her real wedding, the one she probably dreamed about since childhood.

“Well, why don’t we start by ruling out the ones you don’t like?” Mr. Winston suggests.

She nods, and he picks out a rose gold band.

She slips it onto her left finger, and I catch a glimpse of her freshly painted, clear-polished nails. I’m suddenly transfixed by how perfect an engagement ring looks on her delicate hand.