There's something about the names Jack and Rose. I thought Titanic nailed those two into eternity, then I read this book. Wow. It's like Jane Austen came back and wrote a contemporary novel. Just look at that cover. That's Jack. Yep. Hot. As. Fuck. Makes me wish I'd found a grumpy, serious frowner. Ella Maise sucks the reader in with one of the best first chapters I've read in a long time. Confession: Somewhere around Chapter 2, I took note of my page number and scrolled to the last chapter just to check out the ending. I consider that kind of draw impressive given the romance category where we're pretty much guaranteed an HEA unless some witless writer wants to risk hate mail. Love this book. Even the innocent kissing scenes make my heart beat faster. Moving forward, when I think of Jack and Rose, I'm thinking of this love story. No longer will I wonder why she couldn't fit him on the door. Heartwarming romance, great story.