“Oh yeah? I was trying to woo you. Are you wooed?”

She giggled. “I am sufficiently wooed.”

“Good. Because I still have two lines of poetry for you.”










Chapter 32

Brent slid his handinto his coat pocket for the second time that evening. This time he produced the small velvet bag. Panic fluttered through him. This whole thing was going too smoothly. Maybe this would be the thing that would mess it up. Maybe this was too much, too fast.

But she’d seen the bag. So there was no going back now.

She moved her hand off his leg to take the gift from him, and an uncomfortable chill occupied the spot where it had been.

“Can I open it?”

“Please do.”

She held the bag in one hand and caressed the top of it with the other. Then slowly, she opened it, and gasped. “Brent! That’s beautiful!” She pulled the bracelet out, and the bag fell into her lap. “Can I put it on?”

“Sure, but read the inscription first.”

“There’s an inscription?” She sounded like an excited little girl. She flipped the bracelet toward the moonlight and giggled. “I can’t see it, but I have a pretty good idea what it says.”

“Hang on.” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, shook it to turn the flashlight on, and then shined it on the bracelet.

Slowly, softly, she read the words aloud.

If this be error and upon me prov’d,

I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.

Her voice sounded the same way it had when she’d said her wedding vows. Soft, gentle, sweet, a little disbelieving. “Brent, this is the best thing ever. Like the best thing in my whole life.” She sighed and slid it onto her wrist. Then she looked up at him. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome so much.”

“You know, you can’t give Cindy or my pastor credit for any of this. You are the sweetest, most romantic man in the whole world.”


Tags: Robin Merrill Romance