And it was true. Brent may have closed off his heart for most of his life—and he might be new at the relationship game—but he was a fast learner.

Most important of all, he tried his best every single day to make her happy, and he loved her with every fiber of his being.

What more could a woman ask?

“So about that prize . . .” He skimmed his hand down her side, pausing at the curve of her waist.

She held out her arms. “Come here.”

He didn’t hesitate.

Lowering his mouth to hers, he showed her with each move, each touch, each tender caress, how much he loved her.

Eve sighed into his kiss, memorizing every nuance of this enchanted moment.

The lark trilling its sweet song from the bough of a nearby olive tree.

The soft brush of the gentle breeze.

The sun smiling down from the heavens, dispensing warmth and light.

The scent of wild thyme drifting through the air, imparting tranquility and contentment.

And most of all, the special man who’d pledged his love forever and brought her to this magical place.

Not every day of their life together would be this perfect, of course. Their Tuscan idyll was the stuff dreams were made of.

Yet it wasn’t a dream. It was real. As real as the vows they’d recited before God a week ago.

And as long as she lived, she would hold the memories of these days in her heart to measure the world against. A reminder that with Brent by her side, happiness was never more than a touch away.

For in his arms, surrounded by his love and cherished for exactly who she was, she’d found a rare treasure.

A preview of paradise here on earth.

Sneak Peek of blackberry Beach

THE MYSTERY WOMAN WAS BACK.

Zach Garrett poured the steamed milk into the coffee mixture, creating his signature swirl pattern with the froth—all the while keeping tabs on the female customer who’d paused inside the door of The Perfect Blend, dripping umbrella in hand.

As she had on her first visit two days ago, the lady appeared to be debating whether to stay or bolt.

Wiping the nozzle on the espresso machine, he assessed her. Early to midthirties, near as he could tell given the oversized dark sunglasses that hid most of her features. A curious wardrobe addition, given the unseasonable heavy rain that had been drenching Hope Harbor for the past seventy-two hours.

He handed the latte to the waiting customer and angled toward his Monday/Wednesday/Friday assistant barista. “Bren, you waited on her Monday, didn’t you?” He indicated the slender woman with the dark, shoulder-length blunt-cut hair who continued to hover on the threshold.

Bren spared her a quick once-over as she finished grinding another batch of the top-quality Arabica beans he sourced from a fair-trade roaster in Portland. “Yeah.”

“Do you remember what she ordered?”