Chapter 10
Piper
I wake up wrapped in Dylan's arms with sunlight streaming through his bedroom window and the distant sound of Maddie singing in her room down the hall. For a moment, I just lie there, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine.
This is what peace feels like.
Not the absence of chaos or fear or uncertainty. But the presence of something solid. Something real. Something worth fighting for.
Dylan stirs beneath me, his hand sliding up my spine in a lazy caress that makes me shiver.
"Morning," he murmurs, his voice still rough with sleep.
"Morning," I reply, tilting my head up to look at him.
His eyes are soft and warm in the morning light, and when he smiles at me, I feel it all the way down to my toes.
"How did you sleep?" he asks.
"Better than I've been in years."
"Good." He presses a kiss to my forehead. "Because I plan on keeping you here for a very long time."
My heart does a stupid flutter. "Is that a threat or a promise?"
"Both," he says, and the certainty in his voice makes my breath catch.
We lie there for a while longer, neither of us wanting to break the spell. But eventually, reality intrudes in the form of Maddie's voice calling from down the hall.
"Daddy! I'm hungry!"
Dylan groans and drops his head back against the pillow. "Duty calls."
"I'll make breakfast," I offer.
He looks at me like I just offered him the moon. "You don't have to do that."
"I want to," I say. "Besides, I make excellent pancakes."
"Better than mine?"
"We will see."
I slip out of bed and pull on one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants I left here during the evacuation. When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I look thoroughly rumpled and completely content, and I can't remember the last time I looked this happy.
Dylan watches me from the bed, his expression soft and possessive in a way that makes my stomach flip.
"What?" I ask.
"Nothing," he says. "Just appreciating the view."
I throw a pillow at him, and he catches it with a laugh.
By the time I make it downstairs, Maddie is already at the kitchen table with her coloring supplies spread out in front of her. She looks up when I walk in, and her face lights up.
"Piper! Are you making breakfast?"
"I'm," I say. "What do you want? Pancakes? Waffles? French toast?"
"Pancakes with chocolate chips!" she announces.
"Coming right up."
I move around Dylan's kitchen with an ease that surprises me. I know where he keeps the mixing bowls. I know which cabinet has the flour. I know that Maddie likes her pancakes cut into triangles and that Dylan takes his coffee black with just a hint of sugar.
These are small things. Domestic things. The kind of things I never let myself learn about anyone because learning them meant staying, and staying meant getting attached, and getting attached meant risking the kind of pain I've spent my entire adult life avoiding.
But now, standing in this kitchen with sunlight pouring through the windows and Maddie humming at the table and Dylan's footsteps on the stairs, I realize something fundamental has shifted inside me.
I'm not scared anymore.
Or maybe I'm still scared, but the fear doesn't matter as much as the wanting.
Dylan appears in the doorway, freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a soft gray Henley that makes his eyes look darker. He stops when he sees me at the stove, and something in his expression makes my chest tight.
"What?" I ask again.
"You look good in my kitchen," he says quietly.
"I look good in your shirt too," I tease.
"You look good everywhere," he corrects, crossing the room to press a kiss to my temple. "But especially here."
Maddie makes a gagging sound from the table. "You guys are so mushy."
Dylan laughs and ruffles her hair. "You will understand when you are older, bug."
"I'm never getting mushy," she declares.
"Famous last words," I say, flipping a pancake.
We eat breakfast together like we have done this a thousand times before. Maddie chatters about her plans for the day, Dylan steals bites of my pancake when he thinks I'm not looking, and I sit there feeling like I've stumbled into a life I didn't know I was allowed to want.
After breakfast, Dylan has to go back to the bakery to finalize preparations for the festival. The event is tomorrow, and there are still a dozen last-minute details that need his attention.
"You don't have to come if you don't want to," he says as he gathers his keys. "You can stay here and relax."
"Are you kidding?" I say. "I need to film the final prep. This is the good stuff."
He grins. "All right then. Let me drop Maddie at my mom's, and we will head over."
We drop Maddie at Linda's house, where she is immediately swept up into a baking project involving an alarming amount of sprinkles.
Linda gives me a knowing smile as we leave, and I've a feeling the entire family has already decided I'm staying permanently, whether I've fully processed it myself or not.
The drive to the bakery is comfortable and quiet. Dylan reaches across the console and takes my hand, threading his fingers through mine like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"Thank you," he says.
"For what?"
"For this morning, for making breakfast, for being here, basically just thank you for everything."
I squeeze his hand. "You don't have to thank me for wanting to be here."
"I know," he says. "But I'm going to anyway."
When we arrive at the bakery, the morning rush is in full swing. Customers line up for their daily coffee and pastries, and the energy in the space feels different somehow. Lighter. More hopeful. Like the entire town is holding its breath for tomorrow's festival.
Dylan gets to work immediately, adding final touches to the phoenix cake. I set up my camera and film while he works, capturing the careful precision of his hands, the way his brow furrows when he concentrates, the small smile that plays at his lips when he gets something exactly right.
"You are staring again," he says without looking up.
"I'm filming," I correct.
"You are doing both."
"Can you blame me?"
He glances up, and the heat in his eyes makes my breath catch. "Not even a little bit."
The door opens, and I look up expecting to see another customer. Instead, Vanessa walks in.
She looks as polished as ever, her blonde hair perfect, her smile bright and calculated. She scans the room until her eyes land on Dylan, and I watch her expression shift into something softer. Something that sets my teeth on edge.
"Dylan," she says, walking toward the counter. "I heard the bakery made it through the fire. I had to come see for myself."
Dylan straightens, and I can see the tension settle into his shoulders. "Hi, Vanessa."
"The phoenix cake is even more beautiful than I imagined," she says, leaning over the counter to get a closer look. Her hand brushes his arm in a way that is definitely intentional. "You are so talented."
"Thanks," he says, stepping back slightly to create distance.
Vanessa notices the movement, and her eyes flick to me. "Oh. You are still here."
There is something in the way she says still that makes it clear she expected me to be gone by now.
"I am," I say evenly.
"How nice," Vanessa says, though her tone suggests it's anything but nice. She turns back to Dylan. "I was hoping we could grab dinner this week. I know you have been through a lot with the fire, and I thought you might need someone to talk to."
Dylan's jaw tightens. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm good."
"Are you sure? Because you know you can always talk to me. We have history, after all."
"We have a past," Dylan corrects. "Not a present. And definitely not a future."
The words are calm but firm, and I watch Vanessa's smile falter.
"I see," she says. "Well. If you change your mind."
"I won’t," Dylan says gently but definitively.
Vanessa glances between us one more time, and I see the moment she realizes this is not just a fling. That I'm not just passing through. Whatever she thought might happen between her and Dylan is never going to materialize.
"Good luck with the festival," she says stiffly, and walks out without another word.
The moment the door closes behind her, Dylan exhales.
"Sorry about that," he says.
"You don't have to apologize," I say. "But thank you. For what you said."
He walks around the counter and pulls me into his arms. "I meant every word. You are not temporary, Piper. You are not a placeholder. You are it for me."
My throat tightens. "You are it for me too."
He kisses me, soft and sure, and I feel the last piece of doubt I was carrying dissolve.
We work through the afternoon, finalizing details for tomorrow's festival.
Evan comes and goes, making jokes and stealing samples and generally being the chaos Dylan clearly needs to balance his precision.
Other bakers from town stop by to wish Dylan luck with the cake, and I film all of it, capturing the way this community comes together to support one of their own.
Around four, Dylan's phone rings. He glances at the screen and frowns.
"It’s Jace," he says. "Again."
"Answer it," I say. "He is probably worried after the fire."
Dylan sighs and accepts the call. Jace's face fills the screen, and this time he is not shirtless or holding a ridiculous prop. He looks genuinely concerned.
"Dylan. Thank God. I've been trying to reach you for two days."
"Sorry," Dylan says. "Things have been chaotic."
"I heard about the evacuation. Are you okay? Is Maddie okay?"
"We are fine," Dylan assures him. "The bakery is fine. Everything is fine."
Jace exhales in relief. "Good. I was about to drive up there myself."
"You don't need to do that."
"I know. But you are my brother. And after everything you have been through, I was not taking any chances." Jace pauses. "Is that your festival girl in the background?"
Dylan glances at me, and I wave. "Hi, Jace."
Jace grins. "Oh, she is still there. That is a good sign."
"She is staying," Dylan says, and the pride in his voice makes my chest warm.
"Staying staying?" Jace asks.
"Staying, staying," Dylan confirms.
"Hell yes," Jace says. "I told you to be brave, and you actually listened to me for once. I'm so proud."
Dylan shakes his head, but he is smiling. "I've to go, Jace. The festival is tomorrow, and I still have work to do."
"Go. Be brilliant. Love your girl. I'll call you after the festival to hear all about it."
After they hang up, Dylan sets his phone down and looks at me. "My family is going to love you. Fair warning."
"I already love them," I say.
"Even Jace?"
"Especially Jace."
He laughs and pulls me close, and I wrap my arms around his waist.
"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" I ask.
"A little," he admits. "This cake means a lot to people. I don't want to let them down."
"You will not," I say firmly. "You created something beautiful. Something that honors what they have been through. They are going to love it."
He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "You always know exactly what to say."
"That is because I believe in you."
We stand there for a while, just holding each other, and I feel the weight of tomorrow settling between us: the festival, the cake reveal, and the moment when Dylan's work becomes public, and the entire town sees what he has created.
But beneath the nerves, there is also excitement. Because tomorrow is not just about the cake.
It's about new beginnings.
And I can't wait to see what happens next.
After we put Maddie to bed and the house is quiet, Dylan and I sit on the couch with a bottle of wine and a playlist of soft music in the background.
"Can I ask you something?" he says after a while.
"Always."
"What changed your mind? About staying."
I consider the question. There are a dozen answers I could give. The town. The bakery. The way Maddie looks at me like I'm someone important. The way this place feels like home.
But the truth is simpler than that.
"You," I say. "You changed my mind. You and the way you love your daughter. The way you care about this town. The way you make me feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
His eyes search mine. "I don't want you to stay just for me."
"I'm not," I say. "I'm staying for me. Because for the first time in my life, I want to put down roots. I want to build something that lasts. I want to stop running."
He reaches up and cups my face, his thumb brushing across my cheek. "I'm so glad you found us."
"I'm so glad you let me in."
He leans down and kisses me, and the kiss is different this time. Slower. Deeper. Full of promises, we are both ready to make.
When he pulls back, his voice is rough. "Come to bed with me."
I don't hesitate. "Yes."
We move upstairs together, and when we make love this time, it's not desperate or frantic. It's tender and slow and filled with the kind of intimacy that comes from knowing this is not the last time. That we have all the time in the world to learn from each other. To love each other.
Afterwards, we lie tangled together, and I trace patterns on his chest while he runs his fingers through my hair.
"I love you," he says quietly.
"I love you too."
"I'm going to marry you someday," he adds. "Just so you know."
My breath catches. "Is that a proposal?"
"Not yet," he says. "But it's a promise. When the time is right. When Maddie is ready. When we both are. I'm going to ask you properly, and I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret saying yes."
Tears sting my eyes. "I'll not regret it."
"Good," he says. "Because I'm not letting you go."
I curl into his side and close my eyes, feeling safer and more loved than I ever have in my entire life.
And as I drift off to sleep, I realize that this is what I've been searching for all along.
Not a place.
Not a job.
Not a plan.
But this.
This man.
This family.
This life.
And I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings.