Be My Love (9 page)

“Please sign,” he said.

She plucked the little pointer thingy from his hand, and electronically signed her name. Her gaze kept darting back to the package. A courier sticker covered her name and address, but the sender information stared back at her with bold black lettering. From Eric Buchanan.

Her heart stopped.

“Thank you,” the courier said. “Have a great night.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “You, too.”

Eric sent her something?

She ripped open the bland brown packing paper, meticulously wrapped over a small pink box with a white bow. She’d pick up the paper later. As she stood in her doorway, she untied the bow and opened the box.

The sugary sweet smell of candy rose to her face. Her eyes stung. Watery vision took in the small heart-shaped pieces. She plucked one out and flipped it over.

BE MY LOVE, it read.

She popped it in her mouth, and the sweet flavour spread to coat her tongue.

She picked up another candy heart and read it.

BE MY LOVE.

She gasped and dropped the candy back in the box, rifling for another one.

BE MY LOVE.

And another.

BE MY LOVE.

She continued to sort through the small box. They all said the same thing. How many packages had he gone through to make this?

Warmth spread through her chest, ballooning and intensifying with each candy she looked at. A white card lay on the bottom. She pulled it out. Little specs of coloured sugar encrusted its surface and decorated Eric’s even writing.

I meant every word
, he wrote.
My heart is yours
.

Her own heart beat heavy and fast in her chest, punching against her ribs and making her vision waver. She clutched the box to her breast and blinked back tears threatening to spill from her stinging eyes.

“Do you have any idea how many packages of candy I had to go through?” Eric said, echoing her earlier thought.

Brenna jumped at the sound. Her head snapped up. There at the foot of the stairs stood Eric Buchanan.

“I’ve missed you.” His voice, deep and resonating, unexpected but completely welcomed, wove around her in a verbal hug.

With the light fading over the horizon with the setting sun, the last rays of the day cast his green gaze in sparkling shadows. The air’s cooling breeze ruffled his thick hair. He stood tense, and silent, in a crisp business suit, waiting for her response.

She gripped his present in one hand, hopped down the three steps, and leapt into his arms. The tears fell freely. The stress she’d held all week flowed from her veins as she held him tightly.

“At least you got a discount,” she said, referring to candy sold after Valentine’s Day. She flinched. Really? She reacted to his romantic gesture with that winning line?

Eric froze for a second before his chest rumbled. He chuckled and squeezed her tighter.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m such an idiot.”

Eric’s shoulders relaxed and his laughter softened into a deep sigh. His face burrowed into her hair. His lips brushed her ear as he spoke. “Will you then?”

“Will I what?”

“Be my love?”

Her lips twitched, recalling how she’d answered him the first time. “I already am.”

A word about the author…

Born and raised on the Haida Gwaii, off the West Coast of Canada, J.C. McKenzie grew up in a pristine wilderness that inspired her to dream. She writes Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance.

http://jcmckenzie.ca

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this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.