The salesgirl burst out laughing. “Oh my god,” she said. “She didn’t even want to go to a match? That’s so funny.”
“I managed to charm her anyway,” I said with a roguish grin on my face, and the girl blushed and pulled out a tray of heavy-looking rings.
“These are all two to three carats,” she said, pointing at the giant diamonds in the tray. “She’d definitely know that you spent a lot of money on one of these.”
I looked at them. They were beautiful, but something wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t about the amount of money I spent, it was about picking something that I knew Kate would love. “These are lovely,” I said diplomatically. “But I’m not sure that this matches with Kate’s style. She’s….a little more subdued than this.”
“How about these?” The girl put the first tray back and pulled out a second tray. “These are between one and one-and-a-half carats.”
My gaze immediately went to a simple solitaire ring, with an oval-shaped diamond. The band was platinum, and I could tell that Kate would love it. It was exactly like her: elegant, unfussy, perfect.
“She’d love this,” I said. “I’ll take it.”
The salesgirl looked up at me with a grin on her face. “Do you know her size?” she asked. “And don’t worry, Mr. Walsh…we might giggle and stare a little bit, but we’re very discreet here. We won’t be calling the media or anything.”
“I appreciate that,” I said with a smile. “And I have to admit, I’m not sure on the ring size, though think her fingers are almost exactly the same size as yours, if that helps.”
Ten minutes later, I strolled out of the jeweler’s shop, clutching a small bag and box containing Kate’s ring. I didn’t want to think about how crazy it was to propose to someone that I hadn’t even known for four weeks yet, but I knew how I felt and I could tell Kate felt the same way. As soon as I could fly across the pond to visit her when the season was done, I was going to get down on one knee and make an honest woman out of her.
She didn’t have to give up her career or anything else, because I was willing to give up mine if that’s what it took. That’s how much she meant to me already.
I felt like I could fly, like I could do something magical. I had a match later in the day, but I wasn’t even thinking about it—all I could think about was Kate. My car smelled like her hair, and my flat smelled like her delicious, sweet perfume. My cock stiffened in my pants when I thought about how my bed would smell; like a heady, musky blend of her and me.
I whistled to myself as I slid back into my Mercedes and pointed the car towards my flat. It was still early in the day; I had time to get in a good workout and manage to eat a decent lunch before the match. Plus, I wanted to call Connor. I felt bad that I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell him about Kate when I’d last seen him, and I wanted him to know what I was doing, even though I expected a lot of ribbing. The last time Connor and I had talked about women, I was pretty sure I’d told him to take me out to pasture and shoot if I ever asked some bird to marry me.
But things were different now. I couldn’t wait to introduce Kate to my oldest friend. I had a feeling they’d get along.
After I’d returned home and eaten lunch, I grabbed my mobile out of my pocket and dialed Promising Light.
A snide-sounding receptionist answered the phone as soon as I picked up. “Hello?”
“Hey, I was hoping to speak with Connor Callaghan. He’s my best mate, I just dropped him off yesterday.”
“Name?”
“Jay Walsh,” I said as politely as I could manage. “I just want to talk to him for a few minutes, I have some good news for him that I want to share.”
“We do try to encourage friends and family to share positive news,” the receptionist replied. I grimaced; it sounded like she was reading a canned reply from a piece of paper in front of her.
She set the phone down for a few mind-numbing minutes. I couldn’t help it; I kept picking up the little green box that contained the ring and taking a peek. It was perfect for Kate, and I couldn’t wait to see her expression when I dropped to one knee and asked her to be my wife.
“Hello, Mr. Walsh?”
“Yes?”
“Connor will be right here to take your call. We advise that you speak for ten minutes or less,” the receptionist said in an icy tone. “He has therapy to get back to.”
“Of course, sorry for pulling him away,” I said.
There was a pause, and then she was gone, replaced by Connor.
“Hey, mate!” He already sounded a million times happier than he had the previous day, and I could tell he was excited just to talk to me.