Page 93 of Twilight Tides
I was grinning to myself at how fantastic sex with my wife had been when a second alarm rang out of my phone. Confused, I scrambled to pick it up and disbelief hit me when I realized what the alarm was for.
When London and I got married, there were certain details we’d provided in the forms for registration and the marriage license. One of those details, of course, was London’s date of birth. I’d immediately popped the date into my calendar so I wouldn’t forget.
And today was London’s birthday. Not just any birthday. It was her thirtieth.
She hadn’t mentioned a bloody thing.
Deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt, that perhaps even she’d forgotten it in all the chaos, I let that part go. And started shooting texts off to all our friends.
Tierney answered first.
She didn’t tell you? Do you want me to take away the birthday cupcakes I got her?
Snorting, I texted back:
No, don’t tell her I know. I want to surprise her.
By noon, the plans had all come together. Everyone had made themselves available at the last minute to join us for a birthday celebration at the house.
The only thing I needed now was a gift from me. Kelly said she’d venture onto Main Street during her school lunch break to pick something. Tierney promised to distract London and keep her out of the village until after one o’clock so she didn’t bump into either me or Kelly buying last-minute birthday stuff. Mum offered to bake a cake and bring that with her.
After I’d bought decorations, wrapping paper, thirtieth birthday balloons and banners, and a card from the gift shop, I made my way to Mrs. Gilchrist’s antiques store. The last time I’d been in the shop was for our wedding bands, but I’d spotted an engagement ring then that I thought would be perfect for London and I was optimistic it would still be there waiting for me.
Mrs. Gilchrist lit up as I entered her establishment. “Word is traveling you’re planning a wee birthday surprise for your wife. Is that why you’re in here?”
Bloody hell. “Please tell me no one has mentioned it to London.”
“Och, we know how to keep a secret.”
“Do you?”
Mrs. Gilchrist gave a bark of laughter at my incredulous tone. “At this kind of thing, we do, Murray Shaw. Cheeky lad. Now, what can I get you?”
“There was a ring here last time … May I look?”
She beamed with delight. “Of course. Look away.”
I began searching the glass cabinets where antique rings were wedged into rows of velvet padding.
Relief filled me when I spotted the turquoise and diamond engagement ring. It was a simple gold band with the most unusual circular center made up of turquoise and diamond. It sat in a cabinet labeled MODERN EXCEPTIONS.
“That one.” I pointed to it.
“It’s not an antique, I’m afraid.”
“I gathered,” I replied dryly. “Even better if it means the diamonds aren’t mined.”
“They are not. Now and then, I make a purchase from an online auction and discover I’ve been gubbed.” Mrs. Gilchrist tsked. “Knew it wasn’t an antique as soon as it arrived. No, it was made in the last few years.” She opened the back of the cabinet to pull out the tray the ring was nestled in. “I traced it to a modern jeweler in London.” She pulled the ring out of the velvet pocket. “The center is a lab diamond. One carat. It’s encircled by ten tapered cabochon-cut natural turquoise and those are encircled by eighteen cushion-shape diamonds with a combined weight of 1 carat. The band itself is 18K gold, handmade in London three years ago by a well-respected jeweler. That’s why I kept it. Very unusual ring. At a glance, it has the look of an antique.”
“Aye. It does. It’s perfect for London.”
“Matches her eyes. A bonny wife you have there.”
An inappropriately timed memory rose of London astride me last night, her fiery hair tangled and tumbling down her shoulders, her perfect breasts trembling, her gorgeous face flushed as she rode me.
I cleared my throat, shoving the image out of my head. For now. “Aye, she is that. If the ring doesn’t fit, can it be resized?”
“Did her wedding band fit?”
