Sublime

His smile lingered. “Ah, but that’s the price of it, if you want to hear an Irish brogue. You’ll have to put up with a bit o’ sweetheartin’.” “Sweethearting?” Disconcerted, Garrett resumed walking. “Compliments to your charm and beauty.” “I believe that’s called blarney,” she said crisply, “and I beg you to spare me.”

He was dazzled by her, thinking she could have been some mythical creature. A fairy or even a goddess. Not some coldly aloof and perfect goddess . . . but a small and merry one.

When Lexie ordered from a menu, she never said, “Could I have …?” She said, “I’ll have …” confidently, as if she had only to say it to make it so.