Diamond in the Dust (Lost Kings MC 18)

He flashes a wide smile. “Heidi loves her.” He points his pen at Z. “We should start having the ol’ ladies vote ’em in. Heidi’d give Shelby her hammer patch in no time.”

Murphy laughs until he’s red in the face. “True.”

Z’s also chuckling at the idea. “Man, I could see that going sideways fast in a lot of charters. Here it might be fine but Jesus Christ, could you imagine if someone had given Tawny the power to patch the other ol’ ladies? Holy shit.”

Jiggy groans at the mention of Tawny. “Fuck, it’s been nice with her not around as much.”

“Amen.” Z raises his hands toward the ceiling, then looks at me. “I’ll have it ready for you.”

“Thanks.” Now, I just have to figure out the perfect way to present it to her.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Rooster

“From partying with rock stars and traveling the country to hanging out in a laundromat.” Jiggy shakes his head sadly. “Look how far we’ve fallen.”

I snort and elbow him in the ribs. I’ve had the same exact thought several times this week.

The cop who’s been hassling Suds hasn’t shown up while we’ve been here. At least that would’ve added some excitement to our days.

Each morning we pass a local jewelry store on the way to and from the laundromat. This afternoon, a sparkling flash in one of their display windows catches my attention.

I stop and stare into the shop’s window.

“You’re kidding, right?” Jiggy says.

“You have somewhere else you need to be?”

“That’s not the point.”

Wandering universe. For the woman who is your sun, moon, and stars.

Fuck me. That’s it. That’s the one.

“Are you coming in your pants?” Jigsaw asks in a low voice. “Do you need me to get you a napkin?”

“No, chucklefuck. I want that ring.”

He glances in the window. “It’s a little feminine for you, but okay.”

I’m already opening the door and stepping inside. Jigsaw follows behind me.

“You can go to the coffee shop if you don’t want to wait around,” I offer, praying like fuck he’ll go instead of offering up any commentary.

“Hell no.” He grins. “I can’t wait to watch this.”

“Fucker,” I mutter.

I approach the counter and the guy behind it gives me a curious once-over, cautiously taking a step back. I’d be insulted but I want that damn ring.

“Can I see the wandering universe ring?” I nod to the window.

He sniffs and runs his condescending gaze over me again. “It’s a one-of-a-kind piece.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Behind me, Jigsaw chuckles.

The clerk finally moves his ass and unlocks the case, leaning into the display window and plucking the ring off its holder. He’s quick to shift behind the counter again. He sets a black velvet tray on the glass top, but holds the ring up between us, slowly twisting it from side to side so the smooth, rounded stone catches the light.

“The center stone is a five-millimeter, faceted cut rainbow moonstone. The cluster of stars surrounding it are comprised of twelve VS clarity diamonds and the two crescent moons are carved gold.”

Finally, he hands it over. I study the stones and their settings. It’s intricate, detailed work, heavy in my hand.

“By nature, all moonstones have minor flaws and inclusions. It makes each piece unique,” the jeweler explains.

I have to squint to see any imperfections.

“It’s pretty,” Jigsaw says, staring at it almost as intently as I am. “Looks dainty but substantial. Like Shelby.”

I huff a laugh. True, but that’s not what I plan to say to Shelby when I ask the question that goes with the ring.

“I want it.” I pass it to the jeweler.

“Oh…uh…okay. Do you want to know the price?”

“Nope.”

Jigsaw cough-laughs and I elbow him in the gut.

The guy must realize I’m serious. “I also have one in rose gold if you’d like to see it.”

“I thought it was one-of-a-kind?” Jigsaw asks.

“It is.” The jeweler gives another imperious sniff. “Each piece is handmade.”

“Can I see that one?” I ask.

“Certainly.” He sets the ring I’d been looking at on the velvet tray and walks to the end of the counter. Guess he’s deemed me trustworthy now.

“Are you really doing what I think you’re doing?” Jigsaw asks.

“I don’t even want to guess what you’re thinking.”

“This isn’t a ‘hey, here’s something pretty for your finger’ ring, is it?”

“Nope.”

He nods to the ring. “Isn’t it supposed to be a diamond?”

Look at Mr. Expert on engagement rings here. “Nah, that doesn’t feel right for Shelby. This feels right. More like her.” I shrug. “Besides, it’s not like I’ve ever been a rule-follower, anyway.”

“Damn.” He lets out a low whistle. “All right then.”

“You okay?” I’m not asking if he’s okay with this because it’s happening whether he can handle it or not. But if he’s going to be a dick about it, I’d at least like some warning.

He cocks his head, seeming to seriously consider the question. “Shit, I think I am. I like Shelby. I even like you more with Shelby.”