A Christmas Proposition. Jessica Lemmon
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“I’ve worked out everything. All you have to do is agree and smile for the camera so I can leak a few photos to social media. That’s it. Two little things.”
“Little?” His incredulous laugh cracked the air. “You’re suggesting we get married, Stef. There’s nothing little about that ask.”
“The end game is to screw over Blake and save Chase’s campaign. It’s noble. You’d be doing your civic duty.”
“There’s got to be another way.”
It was nuts. He couldn’t consider this.
So why was he?
“Well. I guess I could pay someone to marry me.”
“Absolutely not.”
Anger filled him to the brim at the idea she’d sell herself to the highest bidder. And what goon from her dating past would be the lucky lotto winner? The idea of Stefanie being taken advantage of again made his blood pressure climb to dangerous levels.
“Listen. It’s a surefire plan. This is the ultimate undo button for me. Haven’t you ever wanted to go back in time and stop a tragedy from happening?”
Her pulled-up blond hair revealed a sweet face silhouetted by the cheesy town holiday decorations and winking lights in every window of city hall. Hell yes, he’d wanted to go back in time. He’d fantasized about going back for a huge “undo” for most of his childhood life.
“Yes,” he answered honestly. She beamed, but that grin was erased when he spoke again. “Then I grew up and learned that what’s done is done. There is no going back. There is no undo button on tragedy.”
She squeezed his fingers as if apologizing for the tragic evening that changed his and his father’s lives forever. She had no idea what had happened to him and his family—no one did. Save Chase, but Emmett had sworn his best friend to secrecy.
“Help me, Emmett. I’m begging.” Against his will, the plea in her eyes took root in his chest. “You know it’s serious if I have to beg. If there were anyone else, I’d ask them. But there’s only you.”
The sentiment was strange to hear in any context, especially in one where he was being proposed to, but it didn’t stop him from reconsidering.
“I’m not going in there,” he said. Stefanie’s shoulders slumped in defeat before he added, “Until you explain every last detail of how this will work.”
Thirty minutes later Stefanie walked out of city hall with her fiancé.
Her big, brawny, silent, scowling fiancé.
“There.” She pointed across the street at a jeweler and marched over as soon as there was a break in traffic. She was a woman on a mission.
A cheery bell jingled as she pushed open the door of the jewelry store. Emmett did a neat jog to catch up and join her, but his expression remained as unreadable as it had when they’d applied for their marriage license.
It was so simple it was sort of unbelievable. It was like they’d let anyone get married these days.
“Hello.” A saleslady scanned her new customers, ring-laden fingers clasped at her front. “What can I help you find today?”
“Wedding bands. And an engagement ring.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” Stef peeked over her shoulder at Emmett, who was standing by the door looking unhappy.
She jerked her head, widening her eyes to communicate her meaning: get your ass in here.
He strode in, a reluctant lurch to his walk, as the saleslady led them to a glass case filled with sparkling diamond bands. She pulled out a tray of platinum settings at Stefanie’s request. Stef leaned over them, fingering each one.
“They’re beautiful.”
She reached for a princess cut but before she had it lifted from its velvet bed, Emmett pushed the ring back down and plucked a band featuring a trio of marquise-cut diamonds instead. Rows of smaller diamonds winked from their homes on each side of the band.
“Great choice,” the saleslady praised. “That’s an old set. It was traded in yesterday by a woman whose husband passed away ten years ago. They were married forty-eight years and she had no children to leave it to. She said their marriage was a happy one, but she was remarrying and felt wrong keeping it. She thought bringing it here would allow another couple to give it new life for another four decades or more.” She eyed Emmett and then Stefanie. “You two look young enough to make it to your forty-eighth wedding anniversary.”
It was both a sad and sweet sentiment since Stef knew that her marriage to Emmett wouldn’t last until summer.
“Go ahead and slip it onto her finger,” the saleslady told Emmett with a wink. “Practice for the big day.”
He lifted Stef’s left hand, the ring gripped between his blunt fingers.
“Maybe this ring is the wrong choice for us.” She started to tug her hand away, but her betrothed didn’t heed her warning, instead slipping the ring past her third finger’s knuckles, where it sat as snugly as if it’d been sized for her hand.
“It’s perfect.” His gruff voice held a note of surprise.
“It’s beautiful.” The saleslady took Stefanie’s hand and turned the diamond this way and that. “I tightened those prongs myself.”
It was beautiful. And Emmett was right. It was also perfect. The woman handed over the matching band, and he pulled it onto his finger—again, a perfect fit.
“It was meant to be.” The saleslady let out a gasp of delight. “We have financing and we also accept credit cards.”
“Cash.” Emmett wiggled the ring from his finger and placed it onto the counter as Stef was reaching into her purse for her wallet.
“Splendid. Let me grab a few boxes.” The saleslady dashed off to the back, rings in hand and a spring in her step thanks to the hefty price tag.
“I’ll pay for it,” Stef said.
“No. You won’t.”
“Em—”
“Let me.” He grasped her hand where the engagement ring sat, his palm big and warm. An answering warmth curled around her heart and sent a flush up her neck.
Speechless, she let Emmett take care of the purchase.
Emmett drew the line at shopping for clothes.
Applying for a marriage license and purchasing the rings they’d exchange during their vows had been surreal enough. If she added