Читать книгу What a Woman Wants - Tori Carrington, Tori Carrington - Страница 13

S aturday. Usually Darby’s favorite day of the week. But as she stood staring out the kitchen window at the rain washing out what had started as a perfectly beautiful spring day, she wondered if the world at large was out to get her.

For some reason, she’d thought time would make losing Erick easier. And it had in some respects. She no longer woke up in the middle of the night, her pillow soaked with tears, her throat sore from sobbing. She’d even finally packed up the last of his clothes and other things and stored them in the attic a couple of months earlier, and placed the silver-framed picture of him that had once sat on her nightstand in the girls’ room.

But she would never in a million years have guessed that Erin thought her father was coming back.

She crossed her arms to quell a shiver, remembering the expression on John’s face when she’d come out of the downstairs bathroom last night, her teeth freshly brushed, feeling like she’d been hit by a tractor. He had been standing in the same spot she’d left him, looking as shell-shocked as she felt. All in all, she figured yesterday had been a banner day for everyone.

She looked down to find her fingertips rubbing against the inside of her palm. John had been so sweet, so endearing—and so incredibly sexy when he’d dropped to one knee and proposed to her even after she’d already told him no. Not many men would have continued after the first rejection. But he had. She caught herself smiling. With everything happening, she couldn’t even begin to classify what she felt for John. Whenever he was within touching distance, she wanted to run her hands all over him. Press her mouth against his if only to stop the ever-present flow of words coming out of it. Feel his hungry, almost reverent touch on her heated skin.

But last night she’d had little choice but to ask him to leave after Erin’s heart-stopping display. He’d asked if she needed help, if she’d like him to talk to the six-year-old, but she’d refused the offer, no matter how tempting. It seemed so very long since anyone but her had been responsible for the twins. Still, she watched with her heart in her throat as he gathered his hat and left.

She glanced down at her ring finger and the one item from her time with Erick that she hadn’t been able to part with yet. Her simple platinum wedding band. She absently twisted it around and around on her finger, her gaze drawn to the silverware drawer. Hands suddenly shaking, she slid it open. There, under the extra packets of ketchup and mustard she always hoarded when she gave in to the twins’ demand for fast food was the small box John had left behind.

Darby’s heart dipped low in her chest as she picked up the box and snapped open the lid. She’d been so surprised when he’d sprung it on her last night that she hadn’t given the ring more than a cursory glance. There, nestled in the dark-blue velvet, sat the ring he usually wore on his left pinky finger. No sparkling diamond solitaire. No ornate piece of antique jewelry passed down through generations of Sparkses. No, instead, a large tigereye set in thick warm gold drew her touch. She slid the ring out and admired it, curious about the etching on the inside. She squinted for a closer look.

Erick and John. Best Friends Forever ’89.

Darby’s heart jumped as the significance of John’s actions clamped around her shoulders. He’d proposed to her with a ring Erick had given him.