Finding Perfect (Fool's Gold #3)(60)

“Yes, but…” Theirs wasn’t a traditional engagement. “I wasn’t expecting anything. You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.”

He eased toward her and took her left hand in his. “Pia, thank you for agreeing to marry me. We’re going to make this work. I’ll be there for you, no matter what.”

His words made her ache. They were exactly what she’d always wanted to hear…almost.

“I’ll be there for you, too,” she whispered.

He smiled, then opened the box.

If she hadn’t been sitting, she would have fallen. The ring was incredible. Beautiful and sparkling, and large enough to make her nervous.

“The two diamond bands are wedding bands,” he said. “If you don’t like them, we can get something else.”

“They’re wonderful. Everything is stunning, but it’s too much.” She looked at him. “I would have been fine with a simple gold band.”

“Are you saying you’re not a diamond kind of girl?”

She returned her attention to the ring. “I haven’t been.”

“Then we need to change that.”

He drew out the engagement ring, then slid it on her finger. The fit was perfect. She stared down at the diamonds glinting on her finger.

“Thank you,” she told him.

“You’re welcome.”

He wrapped both arms around her and held her against him. She closed her eyes and told herself everything would be fine. That she was making the right decision. Love would have been nice, but wasn’t it better to sacrifice that silly dream in order to make sure Crystal’s babies would be taken care of their whole lives? Isn’t that what her friend would have wanted?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

RAOUL SPENT A SLEEPLESS night. Not that Peter was a problem, but because he kept getting up to check on the kid. But the boy never stirred.

They both woke up to Raoul’s alarm, then had a busy morning of getting ready. The plastic sleeve the hospital had provided protected the cast while Peter showered. The kid had managed to dress himself, except for tying his shoes, and had shown up at the kitchen table hair damp, face smiling, eyes eager.

“What’s for breakfast?” he asked.

“Waffles.”

Those green eyes got bigger. “You know how to make waffles?”

Raoul showed him the waffle maker he’d bought a few months ago after wandering through a big-box store and seeing a demonstration.

“That is so cool!” Peter told him.

He scrambled out of his seat and hurried around to watch as Raoul finished mixing the batter.

“Here’s the cup we use,” Raoul said, pointing to the plastic container with a big pour spout. “Go ahead and fill it to the line there.”

“I can do it?”

“Sure.”

Peter’s break was in his left forearm, and he was right-handed.

The boy carefully dipped the cup into the batter and scooped up the right amount. Raoul raised the lid on the waffle maker.

“Go ahead and pour it in the center. It’s already hot so it will spread out on its own.”

Peter did as instructed, then watched as the batter oozed out along the grid. “It’s not filling in all the way.”

“I know, but this is the fun part.”

Raoul closed the waffle maker, locked the two handles together, then spun it until it was upside down.

“Whoa!” Peter stared. “That’s the best.”

“Want to do the second one?”

“Sure.”

Raoul watched him, pleased the boy seemed rested and not in any pain. He was easy to be with. Bright and curious. When he thought about the fact that his foster parents might not be taking good care of him, he wanted to find them—or at least the dad—and beat the shit out of him.

Not an option, he reminded himself. He would trust the system to work this out. But just in case, he would talk to Dakota about what steps he could take to make sure Peter was in a safe environment.

But when he got to his office, after dropping Peter off at camp, Dakota wasn’t there. She’d left early the day before. He checked the machine to see if she’d called in sick, but there wasn’t any message.

By ten, he was worried and wondering whom to talk to. Just when he picked up the phone to call Pia, Dakota walked in.

She looked like hell. Her face was pale, her eyes red and swollen. There was an air of grief and loss about her, as if something important to her had been taken away from her. He was on his feet the second he saw her.

“What happened?” he demanded.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Were you in an accident? Did someone hurt you?”

If she’d had a boyfriend, he would assume he’d beaten her or slept with her best friend. But as far as he knew, Dakota wasn’t dating.

“I’m fine,” she said, her mouth trembling as she spoke. “You have to believe me.”

“Then you need to be more convincing.”

She forced a smile that was more ghoulish than happy. “How’s that?”

“Frightening.”

She sighed. “I’m fine. I know I look bad. I’m not hurt, I’m not sick.” She swallowed. “Everything is how it’s always been.”