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Without Words

Page 22

by Stewart, Delancey


  He was out the door before I had a chance to start looking, but I began prowling around the shop, lifting bottles and digging through the bookshelf. I ducked into the kitchen, and was beginning to become frustrated when a text dinged on my phone in my pocket.

  Rob: Brrrr.

  I rolled my eyes. It was so like Rob to be terse. I opened the wine chiller we’d added last week to hold the ready-to-drink whites and peered around the bottles. Nothing. I ducked my head down, putting on plastic gloves, and moved pastries and sandwiches around on the shelves next to the counter. I caught sight of a red glint under a pile of baklava and destroyed the display trying to figure out what it was—and then remembered the decorative red paper I’d bought last week and had just started using. I restacked the little pile and dropped the gloves into the garbage can.

  Several customers came in, and I found it almost impossible to serve them patiently, knowing there was something waiting for me to find it, hidden somewhere in the shop. What was it? When the shop was empty again, I resumed my frantic search, trying not to tear the place apart. Soon, I grew frustrated and picked up my phone again.

  Me: Amy never makes it this hard.

  Rob: Amy’s gifts aren’t this good. It will be worth it. Another hint?

  Me: Yes.

  Rob: Kitchen.

  I went into the back, feeling my eyebrows pulling together as I stared at the refrigerator. It had to be in there. What could he have given me that needed to be kept cold? More cookies? Flowers, maybe? But I would have seen those inside earlier. Chocolate?

  I pulled open the door and, seeing nothing obvious, rifled through the shelves, where I had butter and eggs, dough and piecrust chilling. Finally, in the crisper drawer, I spotted a small red box with a silver bow on top. I was just about to grab it when the door chimed again, signaling another customer.

  “Hi there,” I said, plastering a bright smile on my face to hide my irritation at being interrupted so close to getting my gift.

  “Hi.” Two women stood in the entrance, and it was clear from their demeanor that they were in no hurry at all. They browsed along the wine shelves, murmuring to each other and collecting bottles.

  “Can I help you find anything?” I asked, hoping I might speed them along.

  “Oh, June, look at all these pastries,” one of the women said, spotting the counter.

  “Do you have coffee, too?” The other woman asked me.

  I nodded, hoping maybe they’d take their coffee to go.

  “What an adorable little shop this is,” the first woman gushed. “I just want to sit and eat and…live here.”

  Wonderful.

  They ended up selecting a muffin each and lingering for over an hour with coffee and conversation. On any normal day, I would have been thrilled for the company. Plus, when other customers come in and see someone enjoying themselves, it does great things for business. But today, on the brink of getting to open my gift, I wasn’t in the mood for lingering guests.

  I could have opened the box with them in the shop, I supposed. I did go back and look at the little box, even turning it in my hands a couple of times, but the size and shape of it—a small tidy square box with a big bow—made me think I wanted to be alone to enjoy whatever it was.

  Rob texted when an hour had passed since my last text. Did you find it yet?

  Me: Yes, but now I have guests who want to linger. They’ve been here an hour.

  Rob: Tell me when you’re about to open it?

  Me: Okay. As soon as they leave, it’s toast.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the women bought a half-case of wine each and left, carrying their carefully packed boxes out to a car parked at the sidewalk.

  I grabbed the little box and returned to the front counter with my prize.

  Me: They’re gone. Do I get to open it now?

  Rob: Please.

  I opened the small box slowly, reverently, strains of Mark Knopfler’s “Romeo and Juliet” wafting from the speakers in the shop. The bright sun was shafting in through the front window and the space was quiet and still. There was something about this little box that had me feeling reverent, restrained. I didn’t tear it open as I did with most gifts. Instead, I carefully removed the bow and paper, removing the soft velvet box inside and holding it for a moment in my hand.

  All girls knew what came in boxes of this size. But it certainly couldn’t be the first thing I thought of—Rob wasn’t here. This wasn’t the way things were done. I pushed the thought aside and sank onto the little couch in the middle of the shop. Carefully, I lifted the hinged lid, and my breath caught in my throat.

  There, nestled in dark blue velvet inside the small box was a ring set with a glowing square-cut diamond. It wasn’t big, but I would never have wanted big. It wouldn’t be right for me. The setting looked antique, and everything about the ring spoke to me. This ring was me. But I didn’t know what the ring was saying. What was this? What was happening here? Was it what I thought it could be? It couldn’t be—it had to be just one more thing I was getting completely wrong.

  I stared at the ring, the past months whirling through my mind as it gleamed in my hand. Was this really what I thought it was? I wanted it to be that—but I was afraid to hope. And where was Rob?

  Just as my confusion began to overtake my love for the beautiful ring, the bell on the door jingled and my head jerked up to see Rob stepping back through the front door, Sampson at his side.

  “Well?” he said, his face lit up with the smile that dimpled his cheeks.

  I stared at him and raised an eyebrow. I could feel my mouth hanging open, but words were not coming.

  He stepped closer. “Well?”

  I swallowed hard, finding my voice again. “Are you asking me something with this?” I ventured. If this was a proposal, he wasn’t getting off with “well?”

  “You know I suck with words.”

  “Give me the gist,” I suggested as he stepped closer to the couch and then dropped to his knees in front of me. I couldn’t help the way my hands went out to him, landing on his strong shoulders as I looked down into his dark handsome face. The green eyes were full and shining.

  “Will you marry me, Dani?” he whispered slowly and carefully, his hands on my knees.

  My heart felt like it might burst out of my chest and tears sprang to my eyes. I searched for words that would capture exactly what I wanted to say, how I felt at that precise moment, but I came up with nothing. Instead, I just nodded and pulled him up until we were both standing. I stared into his eyes for a moment and captured his lips in a kiss, hoping I could show him everything I felt without words—just as he’d done for me when we’d first met, as he often still did.

  “Yes,” I finally breathed, and we stepped apart as he slipped the ring onto my finger. “Absolutely, yes.”

  To my surprise, Amy and Britta burst through the shop door a moment later, bearing a bottle of champagne and brilliant smiles.

  And then, with the three people I loved most in the world—and the one dog—we toasted the future. I didn’t know what it might hold for me, but I knew one thing—Rob would be there. No matter what, he would always show up.

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  Acknowledgments

  This book is the result of many evolutions and iterations of Rob and Dani’s story, and there were many who helped me uncover the real story I wanted to tell.

  Thanks especially to my agent, Nalini Akolekar, for your insight and ability to get right to the heart of things. Your gentle guidance pushed this story beyond the confines I’d put on it and made it into something I’m proud of—thank you for your mentorship and your ongoing faith in me.

  I’d also like to thank Tina Hobbs Payne. I have a few eager and honest readers, and I feel very lucky that anyone at all is willing to read an early copy of my books and give me the h
ard truth. But Tina reads almost every single one of them, and I think she read this one a couple times. Thanks for being a friend and a trusted first reader.

  My family deserves a big thank you as well, of course. My husband always understands when I ask for time to write, and my little guys might not understand as well, but they still let me take the time I need and welcome me back with hugs and love when I return. Without their support, there wouldn’t be any books. Thank you.

  Finally, I’d like to thank Heidi Shoham and the whole team at Entangled for making my first book with you so much fun to complete.

  About the Author

  Delancey Stewart writes contemporary romance from her home outside Washington D.C. In a house populated by two tiny pirates and one full-sized Marine aviator, inspiration for her heroes is never hard to find—though quiet time to write often is!

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