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thirty-six

GRIFFIN

I’m ring shopping with my wife.

This is such a surreal moment, and I can’t calm my mind or body down. Mira grips my hand and rests her head on my arm to get me to stop bouncing on the balls of my feet. But how can I stay calm? This is fucking everything.

“I like that one.” Mira points at a sparkly band covered in tiny diamonds.

“Let’s get it.” I pull out my wallet as my wife giggles.

“Babe, we can’t just buy the first rings we see. We have to try them on first.” She rolls her eyes like I’m being silly. Maybe I am. I don’t know what in the hell I’m doing right now. This is a first for me.

The saleswoman tries to stifle her grin, but she loses the battle when I give her a helpless shrug. Can she tell how keyed up I am? It’s this potent combination of nerves and fucking bliss.

My wife is going to wear my ring. She’s going to claim me in public and let me claim her. And there are so many ways I want to claim her. I wonder if she’d kick my ass if I climbed into the announcer’s booth at a game and told the whole arena that she’s my wife?

Probably.

It would be worth it, though.

“Now, what a lot of people like to do is match their band to their engagement ring,” the saleswoman says helpfully.

Mira’s face scrunches in this little grimace. “Oh, um, that’s okay. We’re just looking for bands on their own. No engagement rings.” Mira smiles at the girl before lowering her eyes to the rings on display in the glass case.

I get the saleswoman’s attention and discreetly motion to the cases filled with engagement rings, then at Mira.

I give the girl a wink before clearing my throat and playfully poking Mira’s side.

“All that coffee really ran through me this morning. I gotta take a shit.” Mira’s nose scrunches up, and I punch myself in the metaphorical dick for not coming up with a less disgusting excuse, but it’s too late to change course now.

“You look around. I’ll be back in a few minutes. ”

The saleswoman tries not to laugh when I ask her where the bathroom is.

Then I tell her to let Mira look at whatever catches her eye, motioning with my head at the engagement rings.

To her credit, the saleswoman’s eyes widen and she nods.

As I walk away, she says, “Why don’t we look at these engagement rings first?

It may help me suggest the right band for you if I get a better idea of your style. ”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Mira says as I hide around the corner, watching.

The saleswoman leans in conspiratorially. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Sometimes, when everyone else is at lunch and the shop is empty, I open the cases and try all the rings on. No one has to know.”

My beautiful wife giggles, and I have to duck behind the wall when she glances over her shoulder to make sure no one is around. Then she says, “Sure, why not?”

I watch as Mira leans over cases filled with glittering diamonds and my heart swells in my chest. She points out a few rings she likes and listens as the saleswoman tells her about each one.

She says something to Mira about how she seems to favor the less traditional styles.

The ones that look a bit more artistic and bohemian, and Mira agrees.

She tries on a few that catch her eye, and when she slips the fourth ring onto her finger, her whole body stills.

Standing there, green eyes glued to a ring I can’t see from my hiding spot, Mira sucks in a deep breath.

“Oh,” she says just loud enough for me to catch it. “This one is so beautiful.”

“Mm, yes. One of my favorites,” the saleswoman agrees. “The way the emerald cut gives it that sense of vintage charm, but the surrounding diamonds add sparkle, is magical. And I love that the setting makes them look like leaves.”

“It’s like a fairy princess ring.” Mira holds her hand out, twisting her wrist this way and that to catch the light. I can’t see her expression from here, but the woman behind the counter catches my eye and gives me the slightest nod.

That’s the one. Now I’ll just have to find a way to get the saleswoman to add it to my bill without Mira noticing.

I wait until she’s taken the ring off before clearing my throat and walking back into the showroom.

My wife turns to watch me with a soft smile that almost makes my steps falter.

Because the look she’s giving me? That soft, tender expression looks a hell of a lot like love, and I’ve been waiting my whole life to see that expression on the right woman’s face.

And Mira Graves is the right woman. There’s not a single fucking doubt in my mind.

“Sorry,” I say, wrapping her in my arms and pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Where were we?”

“I think I have the perfect band for your wife, Mr. Wright.” The saleswoman gives me a knowing smile when Mira briefly presses her face into my chest. “It’s beautiful on its own, but if you ever did pair it with another ring, it would complement Mrs. Wright’s style just wonderfully.”

She called Mira Mrs. Wright. I wait for my feisty wife to correct her, but Mira never does.

And that feels like the biggest win. More exciting than a shutout.

Maybe better than winning the Cup. Because Mira has never once let me call her Mrs. Wright.

Things have changed with us. Between last night and this morning, something has shifted.

I can practically feel my curse shattering.

Floating. I’m floating when the woman pulls a delicate white gold band out of the display case. It’s encrusted in tiny diamonds, and it sparkles as they each catch the light.

“Why don’t you do the honors?”

Anything I may want to say gets lodged in my throat as I carefully accept the ring from the woman behind the counter and take my wife’s left hand.

My eyes never leave hers as I slip it onto her trembling finger.

We’re both breathing hard. Like the gravity in the room has increased and is pressing down on us.

The enormity of the moment makes it feel like we’re alone in the world. Just me and Mira. The way it should be.

“It’s perfect,” she whispers, finally looking down at her finger.

“Yeah. Perfect.” But I’m not talking about the ring.

After a few seconds, the saleswoman clears her throat. “It looks like the jeweler won’t need to do much to size this for you. It’s maybe half a size too big right now.”

“And how long will it take for them to size it?” I ask, still staring at my bride.

“We can typically have that done within seventy-two hours.”

“Is this the one?” I ask Mira. I’m still holding her hand, and my fingers trail across hers, causing a little shiver to work its way through my wife’s body.

She nods. “I think so.”

The woman behind the counter beams at us. “Fantastic. Shall we look at the men’s bands?”

We follow her to the next case. There aren’t as many options, but I find a thick, carbon fiber ring that’s black on the outside and silver on the inside.

It’s simple, but stylish, and it sort of reminds me of a hockey puck.

When Mira gives me her approval, the associate figures out my ring size and tells me she will have to special order mine.

I pay extra to rush it, not wanting to wait even a day more than necessary before I can wear Mira’s ring.

I can’t keep my hands off my wife as I pay.

With my left hand tangled in the hair at her nape, I sign the receipt with my right and try to focus as the saleswoman rattles off a list of information and takes my number down so the store can call me when our bands are ready.

Whatever I missed while distracted by Mira, they’ll remind me when they call.

I need to get her out of here. Need to get her home, throw her onto our bed, and fuck her senseless before practice. Now that she’s agreed to let me publicly claim her, I’m even more determined to claim her at home. Every last inch of her perfect body. Again and again.