Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Nolan
T he scent of freshly ground coffee beans greets me as I unlock the Coffee Loft's door. Kathryn's already here, testing the newly repaired espresso machine, and the sight of her stops me in the doorway.
She's wearing jeans and one of my flannel shirts—stolen from the back of my chair last night with a kiss and a laugh. The sleeves are rolled up to her elbows, and her hair's pulled back in a messy ponytail. She's never looked more beautiful.
"Perfect timing." She doesn't turn around, but I hear the smile in her voice. "Want to taste test our first official batch?"
"Depends." I move closer, breathing in the rich aroma of properly brewed coffee. "Is the expert barista taking special requests?"
Now she does turn, and the morning light catches the blush spreading across her cheeks. "That depends on how nicely you ask."
"In that case..." I move behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. "May I please have a hazelnut macchiato?"
She laughs, leaning back against my chest. "Testing out the classics already?"
"Seems right for our first morning." I press a kiss to her temple, breathing in the scent of coffee and hazelnut and possibility. "Though I have some ideas for new specialty drinks too."
"Of course you do." She turns in my arms, gesturing to the papers spread across the counter. "I've been thinking about the wall layout. What if we added a section here for fulfilled wishes? Show people it's not just about asking for help—it's about celebrating when it works."
I study her design, loving how her mind works. "Maybe add photos of the connections made?"
"Yes!" She turns quickly, almost knocking over her coffee in her excitement. I steady her cup, using the excuse to keep my hand on hers. "And what if we partner with Marie for some kind of permanent display? Fresh flowers, maybe some of those vintage coffee cups she collects..."
"She'd love that." I set her cup safely aside, then pull her off the ladder and into my arms. "You're kind of amazing, you know that?"
"Kind of?" But she's smiling as she winds her arms around my neck.
"Definitely." I kiss her properly this time, tasting lodge coffee and possibility on her lips. "Though you're also definitely a shirt thief."
"It looks better on me."
"Everything looks better on you."
A throat clearing makes us jump apart. Sara Miller stands in the doorway, basket of pastries in hand and eyebrows raised.
"Don't stop on my account." Her grin is wicked. "Though you might want to save the quality control testing for after hours."
Kathryn laughs, burying her face in my chest for a moment before stepping back. "Early delivery today?"
"Thought you might need fuel for all these changes I'm hearing about." Sara sets down her basket. "Though I didn't realize the changes included the management getting cozy."
"The management is just fine," I tell her, keeping one arm around Kathryn's waist.
"Mmhmm." Sara starts arranging pastries in the display case. "That's why you're both grinning like teenagers and she's wearing your shirt."
"Did you bring the cranberry scones?" Kathryn asks, clearly trying to change the subject.
"All your favorites." Sara's expression softens. "It's good to see this place coming back to life. Both the shop and..." She gestures between us. "Well, everything."
As if on cue, Marie arrives with her flower deliveries, followed by Old Joe who "just happened to be passing by." Soon the shop is humming with morning preparations and community energy.
We work side by side, setting up displays and rearranging furniture to make room for the expanded Wishing Wall. Kathryn handles each interaction with genuine warmth, and I find myself watching her more than the tasks at hand.
"You're staring again," she murmurs as we pin up the "Wishes Granted" section header.
"Can't help it." I adjust the banner slightly. "You make this place shine."
"We make it shine." She reaches for another pushpin, her arm brushing mine. "Though your marketing expertise might be slightly compromised by bias now."
"Nope." I catch her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Just better motivated."
The morning unfolds in a blur of activity. Word spreads about the changes, bringing curious locals and regular customers alike. Beth from the market offers to host a weekly crafting circle. The high school art teacher suggests student exhibitions. Even Old Joe volunteers to teach a class on local history.
"See?" Kathryn's eyes sparkle as she adds another card to the wish wall. "The magic was always here. It just needed the right people to believe in it."
"People like you."
"People like us." She turns in my arms—and when did I start holding her again? "Thank you for believing in this. In me."
"Always." I rest my forehead against hers. "Though you make it pretty easy."
"Even in corporate blazers?"
"Even then." I brush my lips across hers. "Though I prefer you in stolen flannel."
Her laugh gets lost in another kiss, soft and sweet and full of coffee-flavored promises.
The evening sun slips behind the mountains, leaving the Coffee Loft in the soft glow of the vintage lights we strung today. Kathryn sits beside me at our favorite corner table, her legs tucked under her, my flannel still draped around her shoulders. The Wishing Wall sparkles behind us, fairy lights turning each card into a beacon of hope.
"I'd forgotten how quiet it gets after closing." She traces the rim of her empty cup, looking contemplative. "Back in Wilmington, there was always city noise filtering in."
"Miss it?"
"No." She turns to face me, and something in her expression makes my heart skip. "This feels more like home."
I shift closer, letting my arm rest along the back of her chair. She leans into me naturally, like we've been doing this forever.
"I used to come here after school," I say quietly. "Mr. Peterson would let me experiment with drink recipes while Mom graded papers. Said creative work needed quiet moments."
"Is that why you created the hazelnut macchiato?"
"Mom loved hazelnuts." The memory warms instead of hurts. "Said it reminded her of the mountains in fall. I worked on that recipe for weeks, wanting to surprise her. Every time someone orders it now, I think of her smile when I finally got it right."
Kathryn's hand finds mine, our fingers weaving together. "Tell me more? About what this place was like then?"
"It was more than just a coffee shop." I play with her fingers as I talk. "It was where everything happened. First dates, study sessions, community meetings. Old Joe would read stories to the kids every Saturday. Marie started her flower business with just one bucket by the door."
"And now they're all coming back."
"Because of you."
She shakes her head. "Because of us. Though sometimes..." She hesitates. "Sometimes I wonder if I can really do this. Make it last."
"Hey." I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger against her cheek. "You've already done the hardest part."
"Getting Elk Ridge to trust again?"
"Getting me to trust again."
She looks up at me through her lashes, and the vulnerability in her eyes makes me want to pull her closer, shelter her from every doubt.
"I never expected this," she whispers. "To find somewhere that feels like it was waiting for me. Someone who feels like..."
"Home?" I finish when she trails off.
She nods, and I feel her pulse flutter under my thumb where it rests against her wrist.
"You know what Mom used to say about home?" I shift so I can see her better, memorizing the way the fairy lights catch in her eyes. "She said it's not about the place. It's about the moment you realize you've found where you're supposed to be."
"And have you?" Her voice is soft, intimate in the quiet shop. "Found where you're supposed to be?"
Instead of answering, I lean in, pressing my forehead to hers. She sighs, a small sound of contentment that makes my chest tight with emotion.
"I wanted to hate you when you first arrived," I admit. "This beautiful city girl in impractical shoes, here to change everything."
She laughs softly. "I wanted to prove you wrong so badly."
"You did." I brush my nose against hers. "About everything. About what this place could be. About what I could feel."
Her free hand comes up to rest against my chest, right over my heartbeat. "Nolan..."
"I'm falling in love with you," I whisper against her lips. "Think that wish can come true too?"
Her answer is a kiss, soft and sweet and full of promise. When she pulls back, her eyes are shining.
"Some wishes," she says, "come true the moment you make them."
Outside, the mountain night deepens to velvet. Inside, the Wishing Wall glows with possibilities. And here, in this quiet corner of a coffee shop that feels more like destiny than business, I hold everything I never knew I was wishing for.