favorite illustrator of all time.”
“Yes, I know. That was one of the first things I learned about you. All those fairytale T-shirts.”
She looked up from the book and gave him another kiss.
“There’s another book in the box,” Jeff said after a very long, hot moment.
“Another Jessie Willcox Smith book?”
“No, it’s a hardbound copy of Grimm’s Complete Fairy Tales.”
She put her paperback on the counter and pulled the second book from the box. It was one of those leather reproduction books with a fancy embossed cover, gilt lettering, and a ribbon bookmark stitched into the binding. She wasn’t fooled. The book probably retailed for less than ten dollars.
She glanced up at Jeff. There was a gleam in his eye, and the corner of his mouth was curling just a tiny bit, as if he knew a secret he was bursting to tell. Did he think he’d found her a special first edition or something?
“Oh, this is nice,” she said, trying to sound super-enthusiastic, when she would much rather be hanging out on the beanbag chair drooling over Jessie Willcox Smith’s illustrations. Or, better yet, upstairs in bed drooling over Jeff.
“Open it,” Jeff said, “to the marked page.” Was there a tremor in his voice?
She opened the book to a three-paragraph story entitled “Brides on Trial.” Right below the story’s final paragraph, the book had been horribly defaced. Someone had cut a deep hole in the pages to create a secret hiding spot. And in the spot, with the ribbon bookmark threaded through it, was a sapphire and diamond ring.
Melissa’s breath caught in her throat, and tears filled her eyes as she looked up at Jeff, the man who had become, in just a few short months, her best friend and the love of her life.
“Melissa,” he said in his deep, quiet voice, “I walked into this enchanted place, and the minute I saw you, I knew I’d come home. I’ve patiently spent the last few months waiting for the right time to ask this question, and I don’t want to wait anymore. I think I know enough about you to say that I never want to leave your side. You love Jessie Willcox Smith, you know every story in Grimm’s Fairy Tales, even the gruesome ones like the ‘Heavenly Wedding.’ You snore, you love margaritas, and you read romances when you think I’m not looking. Will you marry me?”
Like any fairytale prince, Jeff got down on his knee, took her hand, and kissed it.
“Oh my God, yes. Yes, yes.” Melissa fell down onto her knees, too, and wrapped her arms around him. “I love you, Jefferson Talbert-Lyndon. And even though you are technically a member of the Lyndon family, I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.”
Jeff grabbed the Grimm’s Fairy Tales off the counter and sat on the bookstore’s floor. “Sorry about defacing a book, but I figured it was for a good cause. And we’ll be keeping this book forever.”
He pulled the ribbon bookmark through the ring. “Do you like it?” he asked. “It’s a family heirloom, but from the Talbert side of the family. It’s my grandmother’s ring.”
“The cat-lady-on-the-Hudson grandmother?”
Jeff grinned. “The very one.” He took her left hand and slipped the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly. “Grandmother would have loved you, Melissa.”
And just then, Dickens and Hugo joined the group hug on the bookstore floor, one cat in each lap, proving—at least to Melissa’s satisfaction—that Grammy would have loved Jeff too.
Acknowledgments
Some stories come very easily and some require a lot of patience and lots of rewrites. This story was more of the latter than the former. My thanks to everyone who held my hand and sometimes provided harsh critiques. This story would never have happened without you.
I would like to specifically thank my critique partners Carol Hayes and Keely J. Thrall, who read numerous drafts of this story and wouldn’t let me off the hook until I completely rewrote chapters one and two—several times. Thank you, ladies, for sticking with me as I struggled to put the puzzle pieces together.
My thanks also to my fabulous editor, Alex Logan, who helped me put my finger on the things that didn’t work in the first draft. Your red ink and tireless effort made the story (and my writing) so much better.
Finally, as always, my undying thanks and love to my husband, Bryan, who has to live with me when I’m working through the birth of a story. You are such a good listener, and sometimes that’s