Epilogue
Gavin
One Year Later
The door opened, and a young couple walked in, brushing a few flurries off their shoulders.
“Welcome to Cedar Falls Inn,” I said from behind the massive wood desk Allie had found on consignment. “Are you checking in?”
“Yes.” The man tugged his gloves off. “Last name’s Minert.”
“Great. Let me get you checked in.”
“Wow, this place is even prettier in person,” the woman next to him stated, looking around the lobby that Allie had spent the entire week after Thanksgiving decorating.
“All the credit goes to my best friend. She’s got an online channel—At Home With Allie—full of decorating tips and design ideas.
” I checked their IDs and then confirmed their credit card on file for any incidentals before sliding an antique-style key across the desk.
“You’re in room two, which has a beautiful view of the lake.
Once you’re settled, please come down and enjoy some hot cider and cookies.
” I gestured to the credenza next to the fireplace, where the treats were laid out.
“Thank you.” Mr. Minert took the key and slid an arm around the woman as they headed for the stairs.
Since opening last spring, we’d hired a cleaning crew and two receptionists to help around the inn. Even with a full staff, I still liked spending time at the front desk. Sometimes, Allie joined me when she wasn’t busy with her own stuff.
Mrs. Ross still handled breakfast and baked goods for our guests, but I’d convinced her to give up her old room and move into the new bungalow we’d built behind the inn.
She pretended to complain about “semi-retiring,” but the happiness that radiated from her told me all I needed to know.
This place was home for her, and she’d always be a part of Cedar Fall Inn.
Besides, I was fairly certain that some guests returned just for her cinnamon rolls.
We’d hosted a couple of weddings, a writing retreat, hikers, and families looking for a small-town getaway, and every time I checked the reservation app, I knew I’d made the right decision to renovate the place.
Allie breezed out of the sitting room in a cream sweater dress and brown high-heeled boots, looking like she came straight off a runway in New York City, even though she’d officially moved in with Ryan and made Brookhaven her home a few weeks after I’d moved in with Cole permanently.
She’d enjoyed decorating the inn, but she wasn’t sure how to turn that into a full-time job here, so she started using social media to build her brand, and things took off from there.
She’d secured a few sponsorships and loved making online content.
And lucky for me, she continued to decorate the bed and breakfast for every holiday and event.
“The wreath is crooked.” She pointed to the one centered above the fireplace.
“Didn’t you hang that one?” I shot back.
“No, I gave that job to your man.” She glared playfully in my direction. “Speaking of, where is your handyman?”
“Last I saw, he was splitting some firewood outside.”
Cole continued to work with his dad, but whenever he had time, he came to the inn to help out. Not a day went by that I didn’t remember that this place only existed because he’d believed in it and in me.
“You two talking about me?” Cole asked, coming in from the back of the house with an armful of logs to place by the fire.
Allie turned to him. “Do you have your ladder in your truck?”
“Have you ever seen my truck without the ladder in the back?” He smirked.
“Okay, smartass.” She chuckled. “Can I borrow it so I can fix the wreath you hung crooked?”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t want Ryan giving me shit for not being a gentleman and helping you.”
“Thanks.” She flashed me a grin. “These small-town heroes really are as chivalrous in real life as they are in the movies.”
In the next hour, the wreath was fixed, one of our receptionists, Marie, arrived to take over front desk duties, and Mrs. Ross walked out of the kitchen with two warm apple pies in her hands.
“Here you go.” She handed one to Allie and the other to Cole. “I’ve got a plate of cookies cooling in the kitchen for your family dinner,” she told him.
“I’ll go get them,” I started, but was interrupted by my phone ringing. Looking down, I saw my agent’s name on the screen. “Actually, I need to take this.”
I pressed the accept button and made my way outside. “Hi, Marissa. How’s it going?”
Once Cole and I had gone public with our relationship and no one had batted an eye, his worries about the book faded.
I continued writing our story and published Tinsel even Lynann’s Bookstore couldn’t keep enough copies on the shelves to meet the demand.
Within a week, my agent was fielding several offers for audio and translation rights.
“Are you sitting down?” she replied.
“Oh, no. Is something wrong?”
“Not unless you consider Hallmark wanting to turn Tinsel & Tools into a movie a bad thing.”
My knees nearly buckled, and I dropped onto one of the chairs on the porch. “You’re serious?”
“I’d never joke about this. The offer’s in your inbox. It’s generous, and they’re open to your input on the script and casting. Look it over tonight and call me in the morning.”
“Okay.” I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “Wow. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” she said kindly. “You’re the one who wrote a bestseller.”
We hung up, but I stayed where I was, my heart hammering. I’d spent months wondering if I’d ever write again. Now my story was going to be on-screen.
“Everything okay out here?” I looked up and found Cole standing in the doorway. Whatever he saw on my face made him rush over to my side and kneel. “Baby?”
I laughed, breathless. “I got a movie deal.”
His eyes widened. “What?”
A huge smile spread across my face. “Hallmark wants to turn Tinsel & Tools into a movie.”
Cole stood and pulled me into his arms. “Holy shit! That’s incredible. I’m so damn proud of you.”
He leaned forward and kissed me. Everything faded away, and I got lost in the moment as I often did when his lips touched mine.
A throat cleared behind us and forced us apart.
“You two keep that up, you’re going to scare away the guests,” Allie teased.
“Like we don’t catch you and Ryan doing the same thing,” I said, remembering how just last week they left The Tap after one song during karaoke because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
“Whatever,” she huffed. “And why do you two have those goofy grins on your faces?”
“What do you mean?” I tried to act nonchalant, but I couldn’t stop my smile from widening.
“Gavin Michael Price, you better not be keeping things from your best friend,” she grumbled.
“I got a movie deal for Tinsel & Tools,” I shouted, unable to contain myself.
Her squeal could probably have been heard in the next county over, and she threw her arms around me. “Oh my god, that’s so amazing.”
We continued our own little celebration until Cole said, “I know we’re all happy about this news, but if we’re going to get to my parents’ in time for dinner, we need to leave.”
Every Thursday, we had dinner with Cole’s parents, sister and her family, and sometimes his cousins.
I’d been nervous the first time I walked into their house, but they welcomed me with open arms, literally.
He’d given me something I hadn’t had in a long time—a family.
His family wasn’t a replacement for the one I’d lost, but it felt good to be part of a new one that shared so much love.
We went inside and shared the good news with Mrs. Ross, who gave me the biggest hug before we grabbed our apple pie and cookies. After saying goodbye to everyone, we climbed into Cole’s truck and cranked on the heater.
“Do you want to check your email before dinner?” he asked, buckling his seatbelt.
I shook my head. “I think I need to let some of the excitement wear off before I try to make sense of a bunch of legal documents.”
He nodded and pulled onto Cedar Street as I connected my Bluetooth to the radio and selected one of my playlists. The first few notes of “Rewrite the Stars” started to play.
I rested my hand on Cole’s thigh. “Remember when I sang this at karaoke?”
He glanced over at me. “How could I forget? The crowd loved you, but it felt like you were singing only to me.”
“I was,” I admitted.
He lowered one hand from the steering wheel and laced his fingers with mine. “Do you think we rewrote the stars?”
“Maybe. Or maybe we created our own story and didn’t let fate dictate the plot for us.”
He smiled. “Either way, I’d say we did all right.”
“Better than all right.” I pulled his hand to my mouth and kissed it softly. “With a little tinsel and a lot of tools, we were able to build our very own holiday romance with a happily ever after.”
The End.