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I give him a sceptical look. “What could possibly beat puppy yoga? The cutest cocker spaniel puppies clambering all over us and nibbling at our toes, while Grace attempted to talk us through our Sun Salutation and get us into Downward-facing Dog . . . I reckon it was one of the greatest hours of my life.”

Lewis set up the class himself, arranging it with Grace and a local breeder and running it in the hotel’s function room. It was a hit with everyone who attended, and there are already talks about putting on another session. The puppies were just so adorable! Aye, I love my wee niece, Callie, and Lewis’s nephew, Ru, but I could play with a baby all day long without feeling the slightest urge to become a mother any time soon. But after one hour with those puppies, I was desperate to get a dog. Still am.

The yoga was incredible, but to be fair to Lewis, all the dates he’s arranged so far have been a success. Some other notable highlights include a baking class in Auchenford, a pottery-painting session at the Coffee Bothy, and a comedy show in Inverness, where I laughed so hard I thought I was going to pee myself. If Lewis thinks this date is going to be better than everything we’ve done so far, it must be bloody special.

Before too much longer, Lewis nods to a sleek, modern building. “That’s where we’re headed.”

It’s a conference centre, and as I take in the banners hanging outside, my heart skips a beat. “Are we . . . are we going to a romance book event?”

He beams proudly, both dimples showing. “Aye, we are. Good, eh?”

“Oh my God, Lewis!” I clap my hands together and bounce on my feet like a wee kid who’s just been told they’re going to Disneyland. And then, because I don’t know what else to do with this exhilaration, I fling my arms around him. “Thank you!”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, chuckling. He wraps an arm around me and draws me a little closer to him—any opportunity, the sneaky devil.

But I don’t object. The man has earned a hug. I’m not going to take that away from him.

Inside, Lewis shows our tickets and we collect our wristbands. The centre is buzzing with excitement. No one I know is as obsessed with romance novels as I am, so to come here, to a place filled with like-minded people . . . wow!

It’ll be nice to chat with other readers, but what sends a shiver of pure joy down my spine is that, according to a sign I spot, over two hundred romance authors from across the world are in attendance today. And when I take in some of the names . . . oh my! I can hardly believe this. I didn’t have any idea this event was taking place. I could have missed it! Lewis has surpassed himself.

The conference centre is huge. There are multiple levels, and each has several rooms. Apparently, there are authors to visit in all of them. There’s also a pop-up bookstore. I don’t know where to begin!

Unsure if there’s a better way to plan our time, I suggest we start off in the nearest room. Around the hall, authors sit behind tables on which their latest books are displayed, along with swag such as bookmarks. Their names are emblazoned on colourful tablecloths or vertical banners. Straight away I notice several big-name authors, easily identifiable by the long lines of readers waiting to meet them. But with equal excitement, I spot a writer whose debut I enjoyed a few months ago and who seems to be free at the moment.

“How does this work?” I whisper to Lewis. “Can I just go up and . . . speak to people?”

“Aye,” he confirms. “Ask them questions, get them to sign things, take a selfie with them. There’s no charge for any of that stuff—it’s all included in the ticket price.”

“This is incredible.” My voice is tinged with awe.

I’m about to approach the debut author when another attendee walks by us, wheeling a suitcase behind her. My initial assumption is that she can’t have checked into her hotel yet. But then I realise she’s far from the only person to have a case with her—a lot of readers have brought them. I ask Lewis if he knows why.

“Aw, shit. Aye, I almost forgot.” He drops his rucksack. “I nipped into your Maw’s yesterday and went through your, er, extensive romance book collection, comparing it to the list of authors who are here today. I then packed up some books so you can get them signed.”

He unzips his bag, and when I look inside, I . . . well, I know it’s silly, but I actually get a tad emotional. He’s brought some titles I absolutely adore, which must mean their writers are here—and I’m going to get to meet them.

Tears threaten to spill. I have to wave at my face and take a few deep breaths. “This is a little overwhelming, Lewis. It would have been one thing had I bought a ticket for this months ago and been eagerly counting down the days, but I didn’t even know this event was happening. Bringing me here and surprising me with this . . . it’s too much happiness all at once! I can’t cope with these emotions.”

He chuckles. “Well, any time you think you might need a hug, just let me know. I’m right here.”

“Yes!” I open my arms for him. “I’ll take another hug, please.”

He draws me in and holds me to him, his body warm against mine.

“In the entire history of the human race, I think this is probably the greatest date a man has ever taken a woman on.” My voice comes out squeaky because I’m so overcome. “I’m being serious.”

“Really? Wow! I was about to say if you see any new books you want to pick up, just let me know and I’ll buy them for you. But if it’s already the best date ever . . .”

I draw back from him and gaze at him seriously. “Lewis, be very careful. Do not tell me to grab any new books I want. I’ll bankrupt you—you’ll lose everything. We need to agree on some limits. How about this? I’ll only buy five new books.” I think this through. “Actually, that’s rubbish. Okay, ten. In fact . . . maybe fifteen.”

He smirks. “How about I just warn you when my funds are getting low?”

So we work our way around the room, and I lose myself in a sea of books and authors. There’s an incredible mix of folk here, with writers from every subgenre I can think of: billionaire, romantic suspense, cowboy, paranormal, mafia, sports . . .

There are historical authors too, of course. Those stories remain my favourite—I think they always will—but I’ve cast my net more widely in recent years and dipped into contemporary stuff. It’s really amazing to see such a wide range of books represented, with love being the one unifying theme across these tales, no matter what else may be different.

“What’s monster romance?” Lewis asks, adding yet another new purchase to the rucksack.