I stare down at the ring again and everything Roarke is saying are things we’ve discussed but usually after post-climax bliss. He’s right that I don’t feel a need to be married again. What I need is a man who always chooses me and no piece of paper can ever guarantee that.
“I’m asking one more time. Will you wear my ring?”
“That sounds so high schoolish.” I giggle and his face grows slightly annoyed. “Yes! I’d be honored to wear your ring.”
He slips the silver on my finger and I stare at it with awe and excitement, not with dread and resentment as I eventually did with Todd’s ring.
“Platinum?” I ask.
A wicked smile overtakes his face. “Only the best.”
I step into him once more and his arm winds around my waist, pulling me flush against him. “I love you.”
He kisses me until I’m breathless and then pulls away. “I love you more.”
“Have I mentioned that I’m not really into this bachelor auction thing?” Roarke reminds me yet again as we climb out of the Uber to walk into the hotel ballroom.
“It’ll be fun. It’s a fundraiser for the First Responders Fallen Heroes. Besides, what was I supposed to say when my parents insisted we take their table after I sent them on that getaway for my mom’s birthday? Head over to the silent auction table and bid an absurd amount on a weekend trip and I’ll make sure you get a blow job each and every day we’re there.”
“Done.” He kisses my cheek and disappears to the tables of baskets.
“Where’s Roarke going?” Victoria and Reed walk up to me.
“I don’t know, but I’m following. Nice to see you, Hannah.” Reed kisses my cheek. “If I hear one more ohh out of my girlfriend’s mouth I might lose my cool.” He heads after Roarke to the table and we watch the two men in our lives shake hands and then peruse the baskets together.
“What’s up, ladies?” Chelsea approaches, her small belly swelling out of her dress.
“Pregnancy looks good on you,” I remark.
Dean swarms her in a hug from behind, his hands rubbing her stomach. “I completely agree.” He kisses her neck. “I better not find you with a paddle in your hand.” He raises one eyebrow.
“I thought you were into kinky stuff?” Victoria jokes.
“I’m not into sharing.” His brooding eyes stay on Chelsea’s as he starts to walk off in Reed and Roarke’s direction.
“You know you’re the only man who can satisfy me!” Chelsea calls out after him.
Someone coughs from behind us and when we look, we see it’s a middle-aged lady dressed in tweed.
“We’re too far away to have this conversation,” Chelsea adds with a giggle.
“Just make sure. No paddle!” He points to her with a smile on his face.
“We’ll keep her in check,” I promise him.
“Oh, Hannah, you and I both know there’s no keeping Chelsea in check.” He smirks.
Chelsea blows him a kiss and he too disappears into the crowd.
“I guess it’s good the men in our lives like each other, huh?” Victoria’s gaze stays on the auction table.
“We all ended up with lawyers. Who would have thought?” Chelsea says, her hands massaging her stomach.
“Should we reprimand them for not getting our drinks?” I ask.
“Nah, we’re independent strong women, right?” Chelsea says.
“Totally.” Victoria leads the way to the bar on the opposite side of the room.
Once Victoria and I each have a glass of wine and Chelsea has her water with lemon that she’s pretending is an actual drink, we sit down at a table near the stage which is all decorated with hearts and arrows. It’s corny and cliché but still cute and festive.
“Look at all these men in uniforms.” Chelsea’s head is turning in each and every direction. “It’s not the same, but back in the day Dean could really fill out a pair of baseball pants. His ass is—”
“We got it, Chels,” Victoria interrupts her. “How many weeks are you again?”
They laugh because the running joke in the office is that Chelsea’s heading into the hormone crazed time of pregnancy and she’s going to be mounting Dean every chance she gets, according to Victoria.
“I don’t know, she’s always been a horn dog.” I laugh.
Chelsea throws a piece of confetti off the table at me.
“Not that I’m denying it.” She sips her lemon-infused water. “But none of these men hold an ounce of sex appeal compared to Dean.”
We all notice a group of three girls walk into the room, laughing and joking with one another and take a seat at the table next to ours.
“Looks like they could be a younger version of us,” Victoria says a little wistfully.
“Maybe not younger, but the more single version for sure,” Chelsea says.
“Speak for yourselves,” I say in a lighthearted way since I’m the senior citizen of our group.
Chelsea eyes the taller of the three, with blonde hair. “I like the blonde, she seems fun.”
Now it’s me throwing confetti at her.
“Whoa!” Victoria points, wine sputtering out of her mouth to the black tablecloths.
“Holy shit!” Chelsea grabs my hand. “You got engaged?” The disbelief in her tone is similar to the rumbling in my stomach when Roarke first opened the box.
“No.” I hold my hand out as the two of them take turns yanking it closer to inspect the ring. “You know I’ll never get married again.”
“And Roarke thinks what of this?” Victoria asks.
“We’re in agreement. Neither of us believes a piece of paper will make us any happier. Don’t get me wrong, I get it, I did it once. But I love Roarke and he loves me and neither of us needs the State of Illinois to say we’re bound to one another.”
“Sweet,” Chelsea says. “But I want the paper.”
Victoria says nothing and I assume she does, too, but she’s too polite to say anything. Afraid it would come off the wrong way.
“To each their own, but for us, this works.” I smile, content that Roarke and I understand what it means, even if no one else does.
“So, it’s like a promise ring?” Chelsea asks, letting my hand go.
I glance at the diamonds sparkling under the chandelier’s light. “I’m not fifteen, but according to Roarke it’s a reminder that I have someone who’s always thinking of me, who will always have my back.”
Victoria sips her wine, her grin growing more and more.
“So that’s it. We all have our happily ever afters. Our love stories are over.” Chelsea looks like her hormones are about to kick in.
I reach over and place my hand on her stomach. “They’re just beginning.”
She grins as a tear slips down her cheek.
“Oh. My. God. Why didn’t I think he might be here? Of course he is.” The girl at the next table flops her forehead to the table.
“What? Who?” The blonde looks around the room, her eyes scouring over the gorgeous bachelors.
The girl with her head on the table mumbles something.