Epilogue - Sloane
Ike told me the station often smells more like a bakery, or even a diner, than an actual firehouse these days.
And as we walk through the door, I can see his point.
Today it’s pot roast, as Aiden mentioned he’d be making—rich and savory, with undertones of garlic and rosemary that make my stomach growl.
“You should’ve snuck a roll like I did to hold you over,” Ike says, hearing it. He’d plucked one right out of my basket while I was buckling my seatbelt.
“I didn’t want to spoil my dinner, like some people,” I reply.
He chuckles. "Sweetheart, I could eat a dozen of these and still put away a full plate. Your rolls are that good."
I can’t help but melt at his compliment. Especially when he's looking at me like that, butter on his lip and mischief in his gray eyes.
Now, walking into the fire station with his hand on the small of my back, I'm hit with a wave of noise and warmth that's become wonderfully familiar over the past couple of months. Music plays from someone's speaker and voices overlap in that chaotic harmony.
This place has become my second home. These people have become my family.
"There she is!" Aiden's voice booms from the kitchen. He's standing at the stove, wooden spoon in hand, looking far too pleased with himself. "Please tell me those are your honey butter rolls."
"Would I show up empty-handed?" I hold up the basket, and his face lights up.
"You're an angel. A literal angel." He abandons his pot roast long enough to peek under the towel covering the rolls, inhaling deeply. "Oh, that's the good stuff. Beth, babe, smell this."
Beth appears at his side, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She's wearing a soft floral wrap dress and her hair in a tortoise shell clip that is so pretty, and her smile is as warm as ever.
"Sloane! It’s good to see you." She pulls me into a hug, then peers into the basket herself. "Oh wow, these smell delicious.”
“You have to teach me how you get them so fluffy," Aiden says.
"It's all about the butter temperature," I reply. "I'll text you the recipe."
"You two and your baking talk." Beth shakes her head, but she's grinning. "I'm going to end up fifty pounds heavier by the end of summer."
"I have a few ideas of how we can work off the calories," Aiden teases, kissing Beth’s cheek with a snarl.
She giggles and pushes him away playfully. I watch them together—the easy way she leans into him, the softness in his expression when he looks at her. This is the guy the crew described as a shameless player before Beth came along. The one who supposedly had a different woman every week.
Now he's making pot roast and gazing at Beth like she’s the only woman he could ever want.
Love changes people. I know that better than anyone.
"Bro, are those Sloane's rolls?" Jasper appears out of nowhere, reaching for the basket with grabby hands. "I call dibs on—"
"Dinner first." Ike's voice stops him short.
Jasper eyes dart to Ike, then to me, then back to Ike. For a second, I think he might try it anyway—Jasper's not exactly known for impulse control—but apparently even he knows better than to test the Captain.
"Fine." He withdraws his hand, pouting like a little boy denied a treat. "But I'm taking at least three when it's time."
I press my lips together to keep from laughing. This is one of my favorite things about watching Ike with his crew, the effortless authority, the dry humor, the way they all respect him, but aren't afraid of him.
He does seem different now than he was when we first met. So much lighter and quicker to smile.
I like to think I had something to do with that.
"Need any help?" I ask Beth, following her toward the counter where she's finishing up a massive green salad.
"I think we're almost set. Oh, but can you grab the dressing from the fridge? Chevy moved it somewhere and I can't find it."
"Wasn't me!" Chevy calls from across the room, where he's loading beers into the cooler. He flashes me that magazine-cover smile as I pass. "Hey, Sloane. Looking good, as always."
"Back at ya, Chev. Flattery will get you everywhere."
"That's what I keep telling people." He gestures toward Ike with his beer bottle. "You know, I still can't believe you lit a fire under the Captain. The man was basically a monk before you showed up."
"You think?" I hide a smile, as I find the dressing wedged behind a container of leftover pasta and hold it up triumphantly. "I’m pleading the fifth on that one. There’s a lot about your Captain you don’t know."
Ike points a finger at me in warning, then grins playfully.
“You keep hinting about that,” Chevy replies. “But I guess I’ll just have to take your word for it. Besides, you two are as disgustingly romantic as the others.” He gestures around to Aiden and Beth, and Perry and Raina across the way.
"You're just jealous," Ike says.
"Absolutely I am." He winks, but there's something genuine underneath the charm. Chevy jokes around a lot, but I've learned he's more of a romantic than he lets on.
"One day, Sloane,” he continues. “One day I'll find someone who looks at me the way you two look at each other."
"Of course you will," I tell him confidently.
In the corner, Lance is quietly setting out chips and a bowl of onion dip. Raina's beside him, carrying extra chairs, and whatever she just said has Lance's neck flushing red all the way to his ears.
I catch Raina's eye and we share a knowing grin. Lance is adorable. The man is six-foot-six of solid muscle and blushes like a teenager whenever a woman pays him a compliment.
Then Raina’s gaze falls on her boyfriend. "Perry, I swear to god, if you move the dessert one more time—"
"I'm optimizing the serving flow. The hot fudge needs to be accessible from multiple angles, and the ice cream should be positioned near the—"
"It's ice cream, sweety. Not everything needs a tactical formation."
Perry and Raina are bickering by the counter where they've set up their contribution: three flavors of ice cream and a jar of hot fudge that Perry is currently arranging with the intensity of a man defusing a bomb.
Raina watches him with fond exasperation, then deliberately moves the hot fudge to the opposite side of the counter.
Perry's eye twitches.
Raina grins and smoothes everything over with a kiss that Perry sinks into.
God, I love these people.
"All right, everyone!" Aiden calls out. "Pot roast is ready. Grab a seat."
We gather around the big table in the common area. It’s crowded, chairs squeezed in tight, but no one seems to mind. Ike told me how much their station dinners have grown in the past year. When Aiden and Perry were single, it was just the crew. Then Beth and Raina came alone, and now me.
Dishes crisscross the table in every direction—Aiden's delectable pot roast with carrots and potatoes, Beth's fresh salad, my rolls, and Lance's chips and dip. Beers are cracked open, plates are piled high, and the conversation flows as easily as the drinks.
"So get this," Jasper says through a mouthful of potatoes. "You know that fender bender we responded to last Tuesday? The one on Bur Oak Bend?"
"The one where the lady backed into the mailbox?" Lance asks.
"That's the one. I'm helping her fill out the incident report, right? And she asks for my number."
"While her car is still smoking?" Beth looks skeptical.
"The car wasn't smoking. It was a minor collision. Anyway, we went to dinner on Friday."
This earns snorts from multiple directions.
“What?” Jasper leans back, looking enormously pleased with himself. "It went very well, if you know what I mean."
"What a gentleman,'" Chevy says.
Jasper rolls his eyes. "Look who’s talking. You went out with—”
"Hey!” Ike cuts in. “Guys, please."
I glance at Ike, who's shaking his head at the exchange with a faint smirk. He catches me looking and raises an eyebrow, and I know we're thinking the same thing.
"One day," Ike adds, his voice cutting through the chatter, "you're going to meet a woman who wants absolutely nothing to do with you, Jasper. And it's going to devastate you."
Jasper scoffs. “Not even.”
"Famous last words," Raina mutters, and Perry nods in agreement.
"Raina, how’s the motorcycle build coming?" Chevy asks, suspiciously changing the subject.
Raina's big smile says it all—it always takes over her face when she talks about engines and metal and speed.
"Remi and Kyle over at McCafferty Customs are helping me out.
It's a custom build, basically from the ground up.
We're talking a modified frame, upgraded suspension, and this gorgeous midnight blue paint job that Kyle's been experimenting with—"
She's off, eyes wide as she describes the technical details.
Across the table, Perry watches her with that helpless, adoring look he gets whenever Raina talks about something she loves.
I'm pretty sure he's memorized every specification she's mentioned, probably has charts tracking the project's progress.
That's love…caring about what someone else cares about, even if it's not your thing.
I feel Ike's hand settle on my knee under the table, as if he can read my thoughts, and I lean into him instinctively.
After dinner, the great dish debate begins—Jasper trying to escape cleanup duty, Lance volunteering because he's too sweet for his own good, Aiden insisting the cook doesn't clean, and Perry pulling up some article about equitable distribution of household labor on his tablet.
In the commotion, Ike leans close to my ear. "Come outside with me for a minute?"
I nod, and he takes my hand, leading me through the apparatus bay and out into the cool evening air.
The sun is setting, turning the multi-colored sky and majestic mountains into something out of a painting. Ike pulls me against the brick wall of the station, as I stand between his legs.
"You all packed?" he asks, sliding his fingers along the shoulder strap of my romper.
I grin. "Mostly. I've got a few more boxes to sort through, but I should be ready by Wednesday."
"Good. I cleared out half the closet. And two drawers in the bathroom vanity. And there's space in the garage if you need storage for—"
"Ike." I laugh softly, tracing his jaw. "I'm not bringing that much stuff."
"I want you to have room. I want you to feel like it's your space, too." His expression goes soft and serious. "That place has never really felt like home, Sloane. Not until you. I'd knock out walls and build additions if that's what it took to make you comfortable there."
My heart clenches.
"I don't need additions," I murmur, running my fingers through his silver hair. "I just need you."
He pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "You've got me, sweetheart. For as long as you want me."
"That's going to be a very long time."
He nuzzles into my hair, breathing deep. "That's exactly what I was hoping you'd say."
We stay like that, wrapped up in each other while the sunset fades and the sounds of laughter drift through the station doors. His arms around me feel like safety. Like certainty. Like everything I’ve ever wanted in a relationship.
"We should head back in," I say eventually. "Before Jasper eats all the ice cream."
"Probably wise." But he doesn't let go immediately. Instead, he tips my chin up with one finger, his gray eyes searching mine. "I love you, Sloane. You know that, right?"
"I know." I rise on my tiptoes to kiss him softly. "I love you too, Daddy."
I spent years searching for someone who could be my partner, my protector, my lover. And finding him was worth every risk, every bold move, every valentine I wrote to him with my heart in my throat.