the rom-com holy grail; typically involves an elaborate, borderline-ridiculous display of love designed to win someone back—or just leave them speechless. success rate: high
“Seriously, what is going on?” I insist, stumbling forward as Rafael’s hands press over my eyes. I can see the light of the streetlamp filtering through his fingers but not much else.
“You do know what a surprise is, don’t you?”
“I don’tlovesurprises.”
“Well, at least this one won’t last long.” He stops, and after a tentative step, so do I. “We’re here.”
We are? We’ve barely left the backyard. What exactly is this surprise?
His hands are gone, and I blink, watching his house. “Uh… I’m confused.”
“Your surprise is inside.”
I turn to look at him over my shoulder. “Oh? We’re going to your place?”
“We can spend the night, if you’d like.” Wrapping his arms around me, he buries his nose in my hair and inhales. “I’m pretty sure the mattress was bought in the last decade.”
“Fancy,” I tease. “Will I get hotel treatment?”
His hold on me tightens. “You’ll think you’re at the Four Seasons.”
I chuckle, leaning back when he nibbles at my jaw. I can’t even bring myself to care that someone might see. Hell, I want everyone to know about us. I want to write it on the walls, hire one of those cheesy planes to fly a banner across the sky reading “Rafael Gray belongs to Scarlett Moore.”
“Ready for your surprise?” he asks as he pulls me with him. We stumble into the front yard in a cloud of giggles, and, giddy with excitement, I follow him to the door and wait for him to open it.
We step in. Everything’s dark and eerily quiet, but the faint scent of wood and fresh paint fills the air. My curiosity spikes.
“Rafael, what is happening?” I ask, hands up to make sure I don’t walk into a piece of furniture.
“Patience,” he teases, stepping away to fumble for a switch. A soft click echoes, and the room floods with warm light.
I freeze, my breath caught in my lungs.
Against the long wall of his living room stands a massive black bookshelf, the fresh paint glowing. My eyes trace the intricate details—the perfectly aligned shelves, the smooth curves of the wood, and the small brass accents at the corners. A rolling ladder is attached to the top rail, its polished wood gleaming under the light.
Most of it is filled with books, with a mix of dark and pastelcovers, which makes me think he picked from among very different genres.
“I bought every single book I found. I don’t think I’m allowed inside any bookstore within twenty miles. And I checked yours to make sure I didn’t get you anything you already have, but I might have made a mistake here and there.”
I breathe, still too stunned to speak. There’s a saw against the blanket-covered couch, a paint bucket next to it.
Laughter bubbles out of me in pure exhilaration. “Oh my God, Gray.” I step closer, running my fingers along the nearest stack of books. “You… youmadethis?”
He leans casually in the doorway. “I told you I would. I figured if you like it, Ethan and I could move it into your place this weekend. While I work on your… castle, was it?”
I spin to face him, still laughing. “I can’t believe you actuallymadethis.”
“Can’t you?” His grin widens. “I’m crazy about you, and I’ve been pretty open about it.”
He has, hasn’t he?
I’m speechless, standing there with the black masterpiece behind me and the man who built it in front of me.
Rafael pushes away from the doorway and crosses the room toward me. His hands find my face, his touch warm and sure, and before I can even catch my breath, his lips are on mine.
“Let me be clear.” He kisses the corner of my mouth, his scruff scratching softly against my skin. “I intend to pursue you, Scarlett Moore. Privately, publicly, silently, and out loud. I plan to do it to your face and even when you’re not around, behind your back.” He smiles, like being this vulnerable just comes naturally to him. “Untilour happily ever after, and beyond, I intend to give you a love worthy of a romance book.”
