The House on Blackberry Hill (Jewell Cove 1)

“I figure now you can get cable and Internet in here. All that’s missing is the sofa you’ve been wanting.”

“You starting building this when … God, Tom. What if it hadn’t worked out?”

He shrugged. “I would have sold it. But it belongs here.”

She came over and hugged him, her floral-scented hair soft against his cheek. “Thank you so much. It’s just what this room needed.”

“You’re welcome.”

His heart began hammering in earnest now and his hand went to his pocket, touching the box nestled inside the cotton. “There’s more, Abby.”

“More?” Her eyebrows rose. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her eyes so blue. Maybe it was too early. Maybe he should wait …

But he didn’t want to wait. He didn’t want to give her the chance to get away, didn’t want to waste any time when he’d already learned that time could be far too short.

* * *

Abby looked up at Tom, wondering what more he could possibly surprise her with today. The entertainment center was a huge gift, and it meant even more because he’d made it with his own hands. She was startled to realize that every room in this house had a bit of Tom in it. He was everywhere she turned, and she couldn’t ever remember feeling this happy.

He’d become more than a friend. He’d become her lover, and it was thrilling. He’d been gentle and considerate, knowing she needed it. He’d been passionate and giving, and she’d needed

that, too. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined the completeness she felt in Tom’s arms.

The last few days she’d felt like she had simply everything. So the idea of more was quite mind-boggling.

He squeezed her hands, making her look up into his face, so handsome, so serious, and something strange and exhilarating started to wind its way through her body.

“I love you, Abby,” he said. “God knows I didn’t want to. I was—I am—a bit afraid to. But I love you anyway. You came in and shook me out of my rut until I didn’t know which way was up. You scared me. You made me question everything, even my sanity sometimes.”

“I think we both questioned our sanity,” she said, an emotional laugh escaping her lips.

He brushed a piece of hair back from her face. “What do you think about a two-bedroom cottage on the ocean?”

A smile blossomed on her lips. “I think it is very cozy and romantic.”

He kissed her then, softly, tenderly, reaching in and touching her heart, like touching a match to a candlewick and lighting her from the inside out.

She smiled against his lips. “What about you? How do you feel about a five-bedroom historic mansion?”

He chuckled and she felt the vibration of it where his lips were touching the skin beside her mouth. “I hear the guy who did the repairs has a fairly skilled hand. It should hold up for a year or two.” She kissed him once more, cupping his face in her hands. Then she stepped back and took his hands in hers.

“Do you want to know why I was going to sell it?” It was a question that needed no answer so she continued. “I knew long ago that it is the sort of house that needs to be full of life. Parties and friends.” She twined her fingers with his. “Husbands and wives and children.” With a laugh she remembered that first candle-making session at Jess’s. “Do you know what someone said to me once when I wondered what I’d do with a house this size? They told me to marry you and fill it with babies.”

“Do you want babies?” he asked.

“I think I do.” She nodded. “Though not for a while. I might like to prolong this being-in-love thing for a bit.”

He pulled her close. “I’d like babies, too. But I kind of like your strategy. Maybe we can practice while you plan your next garden party. Say this fall? We can be sure to invite the minister.”

His tone was light but when he finished speaking the gravity of it sank in. It was a beautiful, wonderful thing.

“Are you saying…” She let the sentence hang while her breath caught in her chest. Could this really be happening?

He reached into his pocket and took out a small square box. “Marry me,” he said. “Just … marry me, Abby.”

He opened the box and revealed the most perfect ring she’d ever seen. “Oh, Tom.” She reached out and touched a tentative finger to the yellow gold band studded with diamonds. She could tell from the look of it that it was an antique, and an expensive one. “This is beautiful.”

“If you say yes, I’ll put it on your finger.”