If the worst you can say about an otherwise sweet-natured and pleasant romance novel is that the main characters are just too wholesome to suit you and your bitter, bitter, cat-infested, 7-years-friendless-and-romantically-barren life, you should probably just eat a fucking cupcake and settle in to wait for El Señor to take you away from this place on the wings of angels who all bear a marked resemblance to a young Rob Lowe.