Propping himself on an elbow, he stroked Lyr
ic’s curls back from her forehead, then leaned forward to kiss her temple. She turned her head, smiled sleepily up at him.
“I have something for you.”
“I know you do, baby, but I’m not sure I’m up for another round. Tomorrow?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not talking about my penis.”
“Really? That’s too bad.” A sexy little smile worked its way across her face. “I think we should talk about it a lot more.” She wiggled a hip against his semi-erect dick to make her point.
“But I don’t know about you using the word penis. Seems too clinical. How about cock?” She thought about it for a second. “Yes, cock.”
He held the ring box in front of her before flipping it open.
Lyric’s eyes went wide as her hands flew to her mouth. “Heath, you didn’t have to buy me a ring for a fake engagement. Please tell me that thing is fake.”
It wasn’t. In fact, it was about as far from fake as it could get, considering the inscription he’d had the jeweler add to the inside of the band.
She must have been able to read the answer on his face, because she sat up. “Oh, Heath, only you would buy a real ring for a fake engagement. Then again, I guess Momma would have been able to tell.” She reached for the box, stared down at the flawless, five-carat, princess-cut diamond that it had taken him nearly three hours to select. “It’s beautiful. Perfect, really. I love it.”
All afternoon, he’d been mulling over the right proposal speech. Getting down on one knee wasn’t happening.
She plucked the ring out of the box and slid it on her finger. “Don’t worry, I’ll give it back when the engagement is over. I hope the place you bought it gives refunds.”
Okay then, no need for a speech. The ring was on her finger. That was half the battle … right? But he wanted to give her all of the romance of a real marriage proposal.
She kissed him sweetly on the lips before rolling over and giving him her back to cuddle against. He wasn’t in the mood to spoon. He couldn’t help but feel that he’d just blown the biggest moment of his life.
With every passing second, the engagement became more real for him. He wanted a life with her, but convincing her of that wasn’t going to be easy.
Lyric had rolled onto her back and was softly snuffle-snoring.
He watched her sleep. One corner of her mouth curled up in a smile.
This just might be the fastest proposal in history. He thought about waking her up and actually asking for her hand in marriage, but as she stretched out across the bed like a starfish, he caught sight of the tattoo on her inner thigh.
He leaned over to get a better look.
Underneath the tattoo was a jagged scar.
Harmony had that very same scar. They might be twins, but they couldn’t have the same scars. Yet here it was, the exact same scar Harmony had. He’d seen it when they’d made love in the tree house. He’d even kissed her there and asked her what it was from.
Barbed wire, she’d told him. He’d remembered thinking that was strange because Harmony wasn’t exactly the fence-climbing type. That was Lyric. In fact, when they were young, she’d been able to hop the ranch fences twice as fast as he could.
His stomach dropped to his knees as the pieces fell into place.
How Lyric had been so furious with him after his night with Harmony.
How Harmony had been totally disgusted with him too.
How both girls had disappeared from his life soon after that, with barely a backward glance.
How Lyric, all these years later, seemed so reluctant to trust him, to believe that he could be interested in her. To believe in him at all.
Because she’d believed in him once, had given herself to him body and soul. And he had called her by her sister’s name.
* * *