“Shush.” I tear my eyes off the ring and up to the discord dancing in hers. “But I saw it and thought you’d like it. That it would go with whatever dress you picked out.” I pull a second jewelry box out. “Turn around for me.”

She holds my gaze for a second but then does as I ask. I’m hard-pressed not to notice how delicate her shoulders and the curve of her neck are as she does so. How smooth her skin is or how incredible her light flowery scent smells.

I lift the multi-stoned diamond tennis necklace over her head, until it rests on her neck, and then fasten it at her nape. Goosebumps chase over her skin and fuck if the sight of them doesn’t tell me everything I need to know.

My touch does to her what everything about her does to me. Affected.

Hands off, Jase. Don’t fuck this up. You made promises to Nathaniel. Promises to yourself.

She reaches up to run her fingers over the stones of the necklace. “This is completely unnecessary,” she says as she turns to face me. “This is too . . . much.” Her voice fades as we come face-to-face and well within each other’s personal space.

I never noticed the flecks of gold in the hazel of her eyes or the subtle scar just below the hairline of her forehead. And I sure as hell never thought a hitch in someone’s breath could sound sexy and yet here we are.

I smile and reach out to run my fingertip over the necklace much like she did. “It looks good on you.” My finger trails off the necklace to her skin.

“Thank you.” She’s breathless.

Fuck.

And close.

“And there’s only one way to see about that other what if of yours.” I lean in closer, my hand moving to rest on the side of her neck, her pulse fluttering beneath my hand as I brush my thumb back and forth over her jawline.

“Which one is that?”

“If we can pull off the kiss.”

“Oh.” Her throat jumps beneath my hand as she swallows. “I took a theater class in high school. We had to—I can do the pretend way.”

“Pretend way?”

“Yes. No tongue.” She can barely get the words out.

“Uh-huh.” I lick my lips but am too busy staring at hers. She thinks there isn’t going to be tongue in this kiss? That I’m not going to steal a taste of her like some bullshit B-list actor? She’s fucking crazy.

I brush my lips against hers. Once. Twice. My body hums with desire that’s only natural when you kiss someone.

And then she emits the softest sound in the back of her throat. Something about it owns me and begs me to hear it again.