The One In My Heart

“Has it been in this house all along?”


He pulled off my boots. “Why do you think we did it in the kitchen that first time? I was terrified you’d see it if I brought you in here, even if I hid it under the bed.”

“Aww.”

“I know. But what we did that night was so hot, I might have developed a taste for kitchen sex.” He stretched out beside me. “Can you stand naked against that wall again tonight?”

“Sure. And I’ll look at you with extra hungry eyes.”

He caressed the entire length of my arm. “Now that is everything I hoped for.”

I pulled him close and kissed him. “If…if ever you ask me a question and I find it difficult to answer, will you give me some time?”

“Of course,” he said, his gaze deep and clear. “Let me know that it’s difficult and I’ll wait.”

My heart overflowed with sunshine and tenderness. “Thank you for being so easy to rescue. And thank you for giving a damn that I was stuck and couldn’t see my way out.”

“I’ll always give a damn.” Gently, he traced his thumb over my cheekbone. “I love you. I love everything about you.”

I kissed him again, my agent of chaos who had brought so many wonderful and necessary changes to my life. “I love everything about you too. Everything.”





Epilogue





“WOW,” SAID BENNETT AS WE walked into the house on 81st Street. “Nice.”

Life-size cardboard cutouts of Aragorn, Legolas, and Boromir stood in the corners of the living room. A banner with the white tree of Gondor hung from the rafters. And a large, detailed map of Middle-earth was spread on an ottoman, in case our newbie needed to consult it.

We bustled in and out of the kitchen, loading the coffee table with our marathon-watching feast—although it was a slightly less copious feast than usual, as we’d spent the previous day at Bennett’s parents’ place. The Somersets were serious about Thanksgiving. And dinner had been extra plentiful, since it was Bennett’s first one back in the fold, Mr. Somerset’s first after the heart attack, and my first as the newest member of the family—Bennett and I did get married in August after all, after he finished his fellowship and I earned my tenure.

It was a lovely wedding, but my favorite part might have been the invitations, which, inspired by Mrs. Asquith’s photo book, had my princess picture on the right side, his Eton image on the left, and the two of us looking toward each other. In the middle was written, At the time these photographs were taken, Evangeline and Bennett each had someone else in mind. But from now on they will always be thinking of each other.

When all the food and drinks were in place, Zelda’s phone pinged with an incoming text. “It’s Larry,” she said, “wishing us a great movie marathon.”

Larry and Zelda had been taking things slowly. But she was going to England next month and they’d probably spend a good bit of time together.

We settled down to start the first movie. “Make sure you point out Rosie to me,” said Bennett, reaching for a cream scone.

“What’s that?” asked Zelda.

“Since you’re Frodo, and I’m Sam,” I answered, nudging a jar of clotted cream toward my husband, “that makes Bennett Rosie, the one Sam married.”

Bennett had finished the books—and quit smoking—a month before we exchanged vows. On the day of the wedding, as I was getting dressed, a note had come from him. Dear Sam, Good luck on the quest with Frodo. I will always be here. Your Rosie.

And I knew then that I had made the best choice of my whole life.

Zelda pressed play. Bennett took my hand in his. I kissed his cheek and laid my head on his shoulder.

Before our eyes, the epic adventure unspooled.




Thank you for reading The One in My Heart.

Want to know when the next Sherry Thomas novel will be released? Sign up for her newsletter at www.sherrythomas.com. You can also follow her on twitter at @sherrythomas and like her Facebook page at http://facebook.com/authorsherrythomas.

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The One in My Heart is Sherry’s first—and so far, only—contemporary romance. But if Bennett’s almost divorced great-great-grandparents sound like interesting characters, their story is told in her book Private Arrangements, a historical romance set in the 1890s. If you would like to skip ahead to an excerpt of Private Arrangements, click here. To see a list of Sherry’s other books, click here.





Acknowledgments




Tiffany Yates Martin, for being the awesome editor she is.

Janine Ballard, for always demanding my best.

Kristin Nelson, for rejecting the first draft in 2010—or thereabouts. And Meredith Duran, for providing the concurring opinion that it really did suck.

Shellee Roberts, for making me get off my ass and rework the opening.

Dr. Pei-Lee Ee, for being a fantastic expert medical consultant.