I've asked her if I've done something wrong, but she keeps saying no. I even stopped trying anything in the bedroom with her. Yet every morning, we wake up with one of our bodies draped over the other. And it's getting harder to resist my urge to do anything with her.

No woman's ever given me blue balls for so long.

Still, she's made it clear where she draws the line, and something is cautioning me not to try to move her over it.

The last few days have been a whirlwind of wedding planning. I've done way more than I ever anticipated, but like everything I do with Georgia, she makes it fun.

My work is piling up. I keep delegating more things to my staff that I normally would handle. Yet I'm so distracted by wanting to spend more time with her that it's not even on my mind most of the time.

Plus, there's the issue that I got things wrong. I can't escape the nagging voice in my head. Now, I'm hoping I can correct it.

I step inside the jewelry store my family always uses. I came here the day after our date. I spent a few hours looking at different rings, feeling so out of my comfort zone that our family jeweler, Bobby, told me to sit down. He asked me a ton of things about Georgia. Then he pulled a dozen different diamonds from his safe. None of them were anything like what I gave her. They were smaller. Simpler. Each diamond was nothing to sneeze at and flawless, yet more of what I guessed is her style.

After I chose the diamond, he drew a design. It was so perfect, my heart almost stopped.

He called me this morning to tell me it was finished. I raced over here, unable to wait any longer to see it.

Bobby booms, "Sebastian." He pulls a box out of the drawer and removes the lid.

My pulse quickens. I stare at the triangle rose-cut diamond set on a 24-carat gold band. It's something else I noticed about Georgia. She always wears yellow gold. It was another thing I got wrong. The platinum band on her seemed dull next to her cheerful attitude.

The ring isn't flashy, but it's elegant. The triangle is set sideways, so the one side of the band has one prong, and the other side has two. I can envision it on her finger, plus it's flatter, so it won't interfere with her baking as much as the current one.

"It's perfect," I state, hoping she loves it as much as I think she will. I can't get this wrong a second time. I curse myself again for not even taking a moment to think about what might be good for Georgia. But then again, I didn't really know her.