“And he’d put the ring in my glass and I choked on it,” she said. She gave me a look. “Please note if and when you ever propose to a woman, do not put the ring in her food or beverage. It took three whole days for the stupid ring to pass. The last contact I had with him was a terse text from him, informing me that the professionally cleaned ring had arrived at his place.”

I tried not to laugh. Hand to God, I tried. I failed. It came out my nose with a distinctive honk. I clapped my hand over my mouth to try to contain it, but how could I not laugh? Her chagrined expression was just too much. It had been so long since I’d had a good belly laugh that the sound I made into my hand was that of a barking dog, and what was worse, I couldn’t stop.

“Go ahead,” she said. “Let it out. You don’t want to strain yourself by trying to keep it in.”

The harder I tried to get it together, the worse the laughing fit became. Finally I just gave in. I laughed until I cried, actual tears. When I finally caught my breath and gave my abs a rest, I asked, “What about your other ex? No surprise second proposals there?”

“No, thank goodness. Soph calls him the ‘big disappointment,’ or the ‘BD’ for short, so that’s about all you need to know there.”

I chuckled. Her eyes sparkled at me, and I knew it had been her intention to make me laugh. As I took in her big brown eyes and delicate features, I actually felt sorry for her ex-husbands. “It seems to me, any man stupid enough to lose you is going to spend the rest of his life learning exactly what disappointment is.”

A faint blush swept across her cheeks, and again I was one hundred percent beguiled. If I were a different man in a different circumstance, I would make it my mission to cause this woman to blush at every possible opportunity, preferably with no clothes on. I gave myself a mental shake. There really wasn’t much point in going there. I tried not to feel bitter about it and mostly succeeded.

“So this woman,” she said. “If she’s not an ex, then who is she?”

I thought about telling her, and for one brief moment, the idea of unburdening myself to her, telling her about me and Lexi and our parents and all of it, was so tempting, I felt my mouth open with the words right there. Instead, I said, “She’s someone I knew very well a long time ago, but we drifted apart over the years. She’s back in town now and I . . .”

“And you want to help her out but maintain some distance.” She finished my sentence for me when I paused for a beat too long.