Page 28 of Ring Me

Laughing, I faced him and leaned my back against my counter. It was cold through my shirt. “You know how in control I am with my job? I'm OCD about making sure we have the right color stationary during meetings. How would I ever survive all the prep that a baby requires? That extra work, on top of what I do now, it's exhausting to imagine.”

“Well,” he said, stepping closer to me. “It would be tiring to do it alone, like you're picturing. Ideally, you do it with help.”

My heart was thumping so hard it was scaring me. “Who's going to help me?”

Conner flashed me a warm grin as his hands closed on my cheeks. “Your husband.”

The fluttering in my chest kept spreading. I was too numb to feel his hands on me. “Don't do that,” I whispered.

He flinched. “What?”

“Say you'll be my husband... have a family with me... care for me... when I don't even know what you do for a living.” I held up my hand between us so he was forced to look at the diamond he'd graced me with. “How expensive was this? How can you afford it?”

Conner let a hand fall from my cheek, winding his fingers with mine until the engagement ring was wedged between the gaps of our knuckles. It glimmered in the florescent light of my fish tank. “It doesn't matter what my job was. I wouldn't have bought you something I couldn't afford. I won't make promises I can't keep.”

I furrowed my brow. “Wait, was? You don't have a job now?”

He looked genuinely surprised. “I don't want to keep secrets from you.”

“Then don't.”

“My old career doesn't matter anymore. Please, believe me.”

“That's hard when you won't tell me what it was.”

“I can't.”

“Why?”

“Because it'll make things weird,” he snapped, ripping his hand out of mine. He hunched his shoulders, as if he were fighting down a surge of anger. Or maybe shame. Whatever it was, I didn't like it, and it was a credit to my own stubborn nature that I remained where I was. Conner was a big guy, a reaction like his would scare ordinary people away.

Taking a deep breath, I held my chin high and stood firm. “Everything we've been doing is weird. What could your past do to us that would make things worse?”

Clutching his forehead, he didn't respond. We were both waiting. Me, for answers. Him? I wasn't sure. Maybe he hoped I'd back down.

Finally, he looked at me. His eyes weren't angry—they were softened by uncertainty. It broke my heart. “Maya... please... let me tell you when I'm ready.”

I was going to scream no! I'd been pumping myself up to demand answers. But looking into his earnest, pleading stare, I knew he was begging me for time. I was the one who'd asked him to play this game with me because I had no other options on such short notice.

Maybe that was why I bent down, scooped up my bag, then walked towards my bedroom. He said nothing, not even when I returned to the kitchen with clean clothes and sneakers on. “I usually go to bed by now,” I said, hoisting the duffel bag onto my shoulder. “Let's get to your place ASAP so I can crash. Otherwise I'll be cranky, and probably want pancakes for breakfast.” I paused. “I'll want those anyway.”

Conner watched me with growing fascination. The tension left his body, his shoulders slumping. When he smiled, my heart soared. Dammit. I was growing weak to his charms. “I make a mean waffle,” he said.

I shook my head rapidly. “Pancakes.”

“Waffles are superior, though.”

“Superior? Jesushelp me, this engagement is going to end with divorce papers before we walk down the aisle.”

He laughed loud and strong, holding open my front door for me. As I walked by, he bent down, kissing me on the mouth was such energy I lost my balance. When he pulled away, I was disoriented.

I exhaled. “Don't think for a second that I'm not mad at you.”

With a wink, he took my bag. “I look forward to making amends.”

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