Page 130 of Heart Taker

When we stood up to leave, I could feel the eyes of the entire office on us. Most of the attention seemed friendly, or at least, polite, but not all of it. Not that any of the staff would say anything while Nora was in the room. Her stance was clear, and she wasn’t one to be questioned. But while I was used to the spotlight in my playing days, this perusal felt different. With my ex, I never thought twice about taking her hand in public. No one noticed or cared.

Not anymore. Not that I’d waste any time on what other people thought.

Fuck that.

There was only one opinion that mattered, and that was Silas.

We stepped into the elevator and when the doors shut, I breathed out a long sigh of relief. I turned to my husband, and only then noticed the tense expression on his face.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“Yeah, I’m good. But it was a lot of talking. Like, a lot. I’m not used to being the focus of everyone’s conversation. My head’s spinning in a hundred different directions.”

“You were amazing. I’m so damn proud of you.”

“Same, baby.”

I squeezed his hand and pulled him into my arms. He notched his face against my neck.

“You know what we need right now?” I whispered.

“A beer?”

I chuckled. “That too. But I’m thinking something much colder.”

Silas leaned back and stared at me.

“Let’s hit the ice,” I explained.

Silas grinned and kissed me. “I like that idea, but first, we need to head into town. There’s something I’m missing.”

I shook my head. “But all your equipment’s in the locker room.”

My husband held up his left hand and pointed to his ring finger.

“Not all of it.”

Silas

“Wow. Just… wow.”

Damien chuckled and pulled me in close.

“You’ve said ‘wow’ ten times in a row, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I—” I paused and studied my left hand. “I can’t stop staring. It’s so real. We’re married. It’s right here on our hands for everyone to see. I love it.”

“Me too.”

We’d entered Sutton’s one and only jewelry store—a tiny but elegant shop named Kismet—and it took no time at all for us to decide on our ring choice; classic gold bands with a hammered finish. The owner, Erik Kismet—coolest last name ever—ran the shop with his husband, Sam.

“If you’d like them engraved it’ll take two weeks,” Erik informed us. “Or you can decide on that later. There’s no rush.”

I looked at Damien and he nodded.

“Let’s do the engraving,” I replied. “We can wait.”

We slid the rings off and passed them back to Erik.

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