Page 66 of Fair Trade

I don’t have time to come up with a snarky remark or a penis joke before he’s standing in front of me with a black velvet ring box in his hand.

“Wh-what is this?” I point to the box as if there is a tiny cobra waiting inside, ready to strike at me. “I already have a wedding band,” I say, almost babbling.

Nick’s assured smile only kicks up a notch at my clear confusion.

“Okay, to be clear, this part is for optics.” He nods slightly, giving me a moment to recognize that we are now speaking about our arrangement. “I would have gotten you this at the same time as your wedding band, but this specific ring wasn’t ready in time.”

I’m about to protest because, truly, my wedding band is more than enough.

And when I’m alone, all I do is stare at how pretty it is and think of how I wish it were my real wedding band for life.

But then he opens the box.

My gasp is so loud, Delilah nudges my leg with her nose as I lean onto the kitchen counter for support.

“No. Nick! What? How?” My eyes must be popping out of my head as Nick grins.

“I’m hoping your Pinterest board from three years ago still holds true and that this is the ring you had pinned as your ‘dream ring.’ Of course, the one you had was a respectable three carats, but there is nothing respectable about the man you married, so I had to go ahead and settle for seven,” he announces proudly.

The sparkling cushion-cut ring stares back at me.

“Please, Angel, close your mouth before my mind thinks up ways for you to thank me.”

I snap my mouth shut and find the strength to slap his hard chest. He catches my hand and keeps it in place, then slowly slips the ring on my finger until it reaches my wedding band.

“Never seen anything more perfect,” Nick says, all traces of his teasing tone gone as his thumb sweeps across my knuckles.

I look up to see him staring at me instead of the ring, and my heart kicks up for the second time this morning.

“Luisa, I know this is anything but conventional. Our arrangement, the way we met, our working relationship. Everything about us seems to be at odds with what the world deems as normal. But frankly, I wouldn’t change a single thing if it meant having you standing in our home, sharing morning coffee, with my ring on your finger.”

“Nick,” my voice begs. For what, I’m not sure.

He smiles almost sadly. “Oh, none of that. I’m a big boy.” He wags his eyebrows, and I muster a giggle. “You’re worthy of the real thing. A real marriage, a real proposal. And I feel like I’ve robbed you of that. So… please don’t make a fuss about accepting this engagement ring. It holds all the guilt I feel for not being the man you deserve. For being the lucky bastard who gets to call you mine for what I know will be the best year of my life.”

I don’t think twice. I can’t form any coherent thoughts around this man anyway. I throw my arms around his neck and pull him into a hug. His arms wrap around me instantly and pull me even closer.

“Buy a woman a diamond, and she breaks her own no-touching rule,” he jokes as he speaks into my hair.

“Shut up. Hugs are on the approved touching list as of right now.”

“Unlimited hugs?”

“Stop negotiating, Stonehaven. Keep hugging me back before you do something that makes me call you an asshole in my head.”

“There’s still room in that pretty little head of yours to curse me? I figured your endless berating would get it all out.”

“What I’ve given you can hardly be called berating, and if you think that was bad, buckle up, buddy.”

“Noted.”

“Why is your chest so warm when your nipples are so hard?”

“And the moment is now over. Thanks for that, Angel.” A laughing Nick pulls away.

I smile as I shrug. “Fine by me. Besides, it’s time you test the coffee I made for you.” He quirks a brow. “Okay, the coffee you made but I helped perfect,” I defend.

He rubs his hands together. “Tell me, wife, what concoction have you come up with?”