* * *
Delaney focused her gaze out the copilot’s window, the sky gray and cloudy around them. The meteorologists weren’t kidding about the tropical storm headed their way. The plane jerked in the turbulence and she clutched the armrests, as if that would save her. She glanced at the choppy waves of the sea below, cold, dark, and angry, and shuddered. She hated the ferry, but right now, she wasn’t too sure she was in a safer place in the sky.
“It’s going to be fine, Delaney. We’ll land before you know and head back to the island before the storm hits.” Ethan barely spared her a glance, his concentration focused on flying the plane. But his voice was smooth and calm, soothing, like she was a wild animal or an excited child. “Trust me?”
She frowned. “It’s not you I don’t trust. The damn storm, well, Mother Nature can be a real bitch.”
He grinned. “This is nothing, barely a little rough patch.”
She arched her brow at him. “Then why couldn’t the ferry run?”
The plane lurched again, and she grabbed the armrests again, hands already aching from the tension.
This time he looked over, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “The ferry was only making one more run today. You’d be stranded. With the plane, we might have a shot of getting back. Besides, would you have taken it?”
She shrugged. “Someone could have taken it.”
“We’re the best man and the maid of honor. It’s our job to handle the rings, and anything else the bride and groom want. Isn’t that right?”
“How the hell should I know? It’s not like there’s a handbook.”
“I thought you ladies were all issued that the day you became a part of the bridal party, like one of those spa day rites of passage.”
“Did you get one in your welcome kit?”
He laughed, the sound wafting over her, warming her, and the tension eased slightly. “There was a welcome kit?” He pointed out the pilot window. “See? Galveston airport. We’re almost there.”
She gulped, already feeling the tension from the mainland seeping into her body. Reality was too close. Being on the island, she could live snug in her cocoon with Ethan, live in the delusion that maybe, just maybe, they could make it this time. She was fooling herself and stringing Ethan along for the ride. They couldn’t have more than this week. With her past and family name and his family business and name, it could never work. She would only drag him down, just like before. Back then, she could walk away; she had so much going on in her life she could suppress the pain, work through it and not dwell.
Now, she was stronger, more independent, which would make losing him again so much more painful and impossible.
* * *
Ethan escorted her to his truck, not even letting her use her own. He drove them to Galveston, where they split for their errands. He slipped his hand into his pocket to get the jeweler’s address and a hard stone rubbed against his hand. He pulled it out and saw the sea glass he had picked up on his run two days before. After the scavenger hunt, he had snuck it back from the pile and forgot about it. Absently, he rubbed his thumb across the smooth surface.
He glanced at the jeweler’s sign, an idea blossoming. He walked into the small store and stood by a display case, while a young couple, very young, oohed and aaahed over every ring in the case. The sales woman was very accommodating, explaining every facet of every ring to the couple. To Ethan’s eyes, the woman, a very attractive brunette, was more concerned about the ring, the size, the carets than she was about her fiancé. While the fiancé was clearly willing to indulge everything and anything she wanted. How could he afford the price his fiancée was aiming for? The man wore an ill-fitted charcoal suit, off the rack probably, while nothing the woman wore was off any rack from a store this man shopped in. The Ralph Lauren dress wasn’t from Galveston and neither was the jewelry she wore or the Coach bag she carried.
Ethan leaned against the display case, subtly indicating his impatience at being kept waiting. In Houston, wearing his tailored suits and gold Rolex, he would never have been kept waiting. Dusty cargo pants and a white T-shirt screamed, I can’t afford this place, much louder than the affianced couple. He gave it four years before the woman bailed on the marriage, not getting what she needed from him, looking elsewhere for money, status, things, while he worked his fingers to the bones to keep her happy. Maybe four years was too long.
The saleswoman looked up while the couple discussed the latest choice and noticed him, as if for the first time. She straightened slightly and tossed her hair, the female mating call. It was so predictable he was bored with it all. He arched his eyebrow, and she walked over.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Her voice was breathy, with a hint of flirtatiousness. She laid a hand on his arm. “Can I help you with anything?”
He handed her the receipt. “I need to pick up some wedding rings.”
Her back stiffened, and she became all business. He didn’t bother to correct her misunderstanding. She went in the back, leaving the three of them alone. He wandered over to the display case with the couple and peered over their shoulders.
Princess cut. Of course. Nothing this woman did was original.
He glanced at the case. None of them matched the Asscher cut engagement ring he’d bought for Delaney, the one he still had in the drawer in his bedroom. The modified emerald cut, into a square, fit Delaney at the time. Elegant, feminine, vintage, classic. If he were to get one for her now, would he chose the same one?
The woman put the ring on her finger and held it out. Her fiancé audibly gulped at the price tag.
“You can’t put a price on love, darling,” she cooed. “This is the one.”
Ethan snorted softly, but loud enough for them to hear. The woman whirled around and glared at him.
“You can put a price on love. You just did. Ten thousand dollars. A bargain.” He leaned close to the guy’s ear. “Get a pre-nup, dude. Trust me.”