by Trish Jensen
Apparently it didn’t matter, because instead of turning right to his bedroom, he turned left at the top of the stairs. At the first guest bedroom he stopped and opened the door.
Sherry gasped again as she looked around. He’d transformed the room from its previous flowery opulence to a . . . nursery.
Kit set her down and silently allowed her to check out the room, with its bright, multicolored clown wallpaper, to the hand-carved crib, changing table, a rocking chair and armoires. Stuffed animals littered the place.
“The rules have changed, Sherry,” he finally said quietly. “I want it all with you. Commitment, marriage, children . . . eventually. I want you. Not just to share my bed, but my life. To make this house a home. Only you can do that for me.”
Sherry’s throat burned with emotion. Her eyes filled with tears. Her heart swelled. She turned to him, then threw herself in his arms. “It took you long enough to realize it, you idiot,” she choked out.
Brushing back her hair, he smiled wryly. “Sometimes I’m a little slow on the uptake.”
He kissed her. The kiss held the promise of tomorrow, and Sherry felt her soul heal, and her heart fill with an overwhelming love and passion. She twined her arms around his neck and pressed into him, returning the kiss, the promise.
He cupped her face and broke the kiss. “Tell me you’ll marry me.” Another quick kiss. “I promise, if you’ll be my wife, I’ll supply you with more chocolate than you could possibly eat. I’ll give you romance and love and fidelity and as many children as you want. And,” he added, smiling suggestively, “I’ll be your slave boy for the rest of our lives.”
Sherry choked on her laughter, grabbed his shirt in both fists and pulled him to her. “There’s not a woman on earth who’d be dumb enough to refuse an offer like that.”
(Continue reading for more about the author)
A Funny Thing Happened...
Trish Jensen decided to become a romance writer when she learned the rule about romance writers not having to do housework. Really! It’s an honest-to-goodness rule! Well, okay, it was the most creative excuse she could come up with when she tried to explain her theory on dustballs to visitors. (Dustballs don’t kill, people do.)
In truth, she discovered writing on her way to getting an MBA. The MBA has long been abandoned in favor of a computer and characters she argues with out loud. (The dog has finally stopped looking around the room, wondering who she’s talking to.) Trish and her black lab reside in Amish country, the mountains of central Pennsylvania.
Table of Contents
A mysterious prank brought them together for a sizzling-hot phone call...
Trish Jensen Novels From Bell Bridge Books
For a Good Time Call
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
A Funny Thing Happened...