Chapter 7
Jonah
Shit. I almost told her today.
Standing in my bakery at five in the morning, with Chloe looking at me like I hung the moon, I almost said the words that have been building in my chest for weeks.
I’m falling for you.
But the timer saved me. Or ruined everything. I’m really not sure which.
Now it’s noon, and I’m at the house for lunch —something I rarely do and made the guys at the bakery suspicious— because I couldn’t stay away. Couldn’t stop thinking about the look on her face when I said she made me feel like I was enough.
I find her in the backyard with the twins. They’re making snow angels from a couple inches of dusting overnight, and Chloe’s laughing, her cheeks pink from the cold. She looks younger like this. Happier. Like maybe Valentine isn’t the prison she thought it was.
“Daddy!” Ava spots me first, scrambling up and running over. “Look at my angel! It’s the biggest one!”
“It’s beautiful, sweetheart.” I crouch down to inspect her handiwork, very aware of Chloe watching me.
“Mine’s better,” Mia announces, and just like that, they’re arguing again.
Chloe catches my eye and grins. “They’ve been at it all morning. I’m starting to think competition is their love language.”
“It’s amazing, Mia.” I stand, brushing snow off Ava’s jacket. “Girls, why don’t you go inside and ask Grandma for hot chocolate? Chloe and I need to talk.”
Both twins look between us with identical suspicious expressions.
“Are we in trouble?” Mia asks.
“No, baby. Just grown-up stuff.” I kiss the top of her head. “Go on.”
They trudge toward the house, and Chloe watches them go before turning to me. “Grown-up stuff?”
“We didn’t finish our conversation this morning.”
“No,” she agrees quietly. “We didn’t.”
I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for her. “I meant what I said. About you making me feel like I’m enough.”
“Jonah—”
“Let me finish. Please.” I take a breath.
“When Rachel left, she made me believe that choosing my life here—my bakery, this town, stability for the twins—made me selfish. Small. Not enough.” I force myself to meet Chloe’s eyes.
“And then you showed up, and you didn’t look at me like I was broken or pathetic.
You looked at me like I was doing something right. ”
“Because you are,” she says fiercely. “You’re an incredible father. An incredible person.”
“And you’re leaving in less than five months now.” The words taste bitter. “For a teaching job. For the life you actually want.”
Something flickers across her face. “What if I don’t know what I want anymore?”
My heart stops. “What?”
“I came here thinking this was temporary. Thinking I was just marking time until my real life started.” She takes a step closer, and I can see her breath in the cold air. “But what if this is my real life? What if what I thought I wanted isn’t what I actually need?”
“Chloe, you can’t give up your dreams because—”
“I’m not.” She cuts me off. “I’m just… reconsidering what my dreams look like. Valentine has schools. Good schools. And I’m already here, and the twins are amazing, and—” She stops, her cheeks flushing. “And you’re here.”
“I can’t be the reason you give up your plans.”
“Why not? You let Rachel make you feel guilty for not giving up yours.”
The truth of it hits me hard. “That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because I—” I stop myself, but she’s looking at me with those green eyes, and I can’t lie to her. “Because I’m already falling for you, and if you stay for me and end up resenting it, I don’t think I’ll survive that twice.”
The words hang between us, crystallizing in the cold air.
Chloe closes the distance between us in two steps. “What if I’m already falling too?”
“Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
“I mean it.” Her voice is steady, sure. “I definitely mean it, Jonah. I’m falling for you. For the twins. For this life. I’ve never wanted anything more.”
I should be careful. Should protect myself. Should remember all the reasons this is complicated.
Instead, I reach up and cup her face with both hands. “If we do this —if we try this— it’s not temporary. I need you to know that. I can’t do casual. Not with you.”
“I don’t want casual.” She leans into my touch. “I want real. I want this.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m terrified,” she admits. “But I’m sure.”
That’s all I need to hear.
I kiss her.
It’s not gentle or soft. It’s urgent and desperate and full of weeks of wanting and needing. She tastes like hot chocolate and possibility, and when she makes a soft sound against my mouth, every thought in my head evaporates except more and mine and finally.
Her hands fist in my jacket, pulling me closer, and I’m drowning in her, in the way she kisses like she means it, like she’s claiming me as much as I’m claiming her.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“Wow,” she whispers.
“Yeah.” I rest my forehead against hers. “I agree, wow.”
“So... we’re doing this?”
“We’re doing this.” I pull back enough to see her face. “But we need to be smart about it. Talk to the twins together. Make sure they understand—”
“That I’m staying,” Chloe finishes. “Not just for a few months. That I’m choosing this. Choosing them. Choosing you.”
Choosing us.
The words settle into my chest, warm and certain and right.
“I need to call Mrs. Henderson,” Chloe says suddenly. “Tell her I’m withdrawing my application for the teaching position.”
“Are you sure? Valentine Elementary might not have an opening until—”
“I’ll substitute. I’ll wait. I’ll work the bakery. I don’t care.” She kisses me again, quick and sweet. “I’m not going anywhere.” Her urgency sparks mine to escalate.
“I’m not letting you go.”
From the house, I hear Mia yelling, “Grandma! Daddy’s kissing Chloe!”
We both freeze.
Then Ava’s voice echoes through the backyard, “Does a kiss mean she’s staying forever?”
Chloe starts laughing, and I can’t help but join her.
“I guess we should go explain,” I say.
“I guess we should.” But she doesn’t move, just looks at me with so much warmth in her eyes that my chest aches. “For the record? I’m really glad I answered your ad.”
“Me too.” I lace my fingers through hers. “Come on. Let’s go tell them the good news.”
The words feel right in a way nothing has felt right in years. Good news has been lacking and this feels like big news.
We walk toward the house hand in hand, and through the window I can see the twins pressed against the glass, watching us with identical grins.
This is going to change everything.
And for the first time in three years, I’m not afraid of change.
I’m ready for it.