Her breath catches, and her eyes widen even more. “Oh, honey, I—”
“It wouldn’t fit you, Georgia. And the thing is... I always felt some strange nagging guilt that I didn’t propose to Nicola with it. And lately, I’ve been looking at it.” I sit up a little, and she flows with me, two currents in the same stream. I reach for the bannock in its cheesecloth and set it out on the blanket. “I’ve been having this feeling that it’s just not right.”
“Oh.” Her face falls.
I’m not only all thumbs, I’m an arse as well. I hurry to save the smile I love. “I’ve never wanted to use that ring. You see why?” I lift her hand to my lips again. “My mate’s hand is far too small—but it fits just right in my grasp. The ring I never wanted to use was never meant to be used, love.”
Georgia nods, face unclouding, sunshine back in her gaze. “That’s so sweet. Do you want me to cut you a slice?” She reaches for the knife in the picnic basket.
“Aye.” I push out my plate, hoping my voice isn’t quivering. I’ve shoved the ring into the bottom of the bannock, dead center. “Long and thin, please, love? I like the middle. That’s the best bit.”
“Really? I like the way it gets crispy on the edges.” Georgia smiles and slices. “See? We’re perfect. You eat the soft middles. I’ll eat the hard parts.”
For a second, we try to be mature, and then we giggle like teenagers.
“I have one soft middle that I’ve very much missed eating,” I confess, hand on her thigh.
“And a hard bit I’ve been dying to wrap my lips around.” She presses the knife down with a grin and then frowns.
“What?”
“I think you’ve got a big clump of oats in the center, hon, it’s... It’s... Not oats?” Georgia puts my slice of bannock on a paper plate and then peers at the middle of the cake.
“Something the matter?”
“Sweetie... I think you baked a measuring spoon in the middle!” Georgia whispers, trying not to laugh.
“I didn’t!” I sit up in false shock. “Never!”
“I think so. Look at this, there’s something metal.” Georgia clicks the tip of the knife to the center of the cake, and sure enough, there’s a tiny metallic sound.
I groan. “Promise you won’t tell your brother.”
“I’ll never tell. I’m sure he’s done something similar at one point. Probably not lately.”
“I suppose you don’t want any now?” I prod.
My heart has stopped beating evenly. It’s now tap dancing like a drunken spider. If she doesn’t realize it’s a ring soon, I’m going to rip the bannock in half and show her.
Not elegant, but it’ll get the message across...
“No, baby! I still want some! Especially with that blackberry jam. I’d eat anything with blackberry jam. In fact...” Her eyes glint with wickedness and lust. “I wonder how it’d taste on you?”
“Eat up your lunch like a good girl, and we’ll find out.”
Georgia slices again and again. The fork clinks.
You can’t cut a pearl with a bread knife, can you?
“I’ll just get that spoon out of here,” she stage whispers, fingers pushing at the bottom of the cake.
I just nod. It’s all I can manage.
Georgia’s face changes from amusement to consternation, then, finally, to awe as she pulls out the circle of gold with its beautiful pearl and halo of diamonds. Crumbs cling to it, but I deftly grab her wrist and blow them off as she continues to stare, open-mouthed.
“What? What is this?” she whispers at last.
“You are my first love. My only love. My true love. I have waited half my life to find you, Georgia Fenclan. Will you be my bride? My mate and my wife, mother of my bairns, and heart of my home for the rest of our lives?”
