I love getting gifts. Not jewelry or long stem roses or $50 chocolates. I mean, I won’t turn ‘em down LOL but those aren’t what I want to blog about. I’m thinking about the most romantic gifts I’ve ever received and what made them perfect.
To me, romance has to do with truth, not cost. I don’t need a guy to make a quest across the globe to find the last whatchmadoodle on planet Earth. I just want to know he gets me. Or my heroine. There’s nothing sexier than a guy who pays attention. I don’t want my heroine to ask for things. I want her hero to appear with something he knew would make her smile. Maybe the heroine works at an upscale flower shop where the arrangements look more like abstract art than flowers, and that’s sort of a bummer because she love flowers. Her hero might show up with a small bunch of wildflowers tied with a simple ribbon. He’d know this was perfect, even though she’s surrounded with flowers all day, she wants these. He gets her.
In college, my husband (then new boyfriend) bought me a leather bound copy of Wuthering Heights. Why? Because he saw me reading it, heard me saying I read it every Christmas, and the copy I had in hand was tattered, corners curled, cover torn. I didn’t even know I wanted a new copy until I saw the glorious one he had in hand. He’s like that.
He still does things for me like put gas in the car so I never have to. I hate doing it. I could do it. But he does it. I don’t ask. It just happens. Not a “romantic” gesture to you, maybe. But it tells me he gets me. For mother’s day every year, he takes the kids away for breakfast and they don’t come home until after lunch. Sometimes I stay home. Sometimes I go out, but I get what I need – a moment to myself before alllll that awesome mothers day celebration time begins later.
When writing a relationship in a story, I keep these things in mind. I want him to earn a place in her heart. I make sure that above all else the hero “gets” her.