Chapter 25
Outside, the fairy lights gave way to the cool dark sky. The crowd spilled into the parking lot like a river of sequins and chatter. Mayor Pennington’s voice carried over the murmur—cheerful and practiced.
“As promised, one last surprise for our guests! Please keep a safe distance from the launch site, and thank you for helping make Autumn Ridge shine tonight!”
Cali tugged her coat tighter as the first rocket screamed upward.
It burst into a pale gold bloom, then another and another, until the sky above the Inn glowed in mirrored flashes on every car hood.
The noise filled her chest in that bittersweet way joy sometimes does.
Loud and bright and almost too much to hold.
Ethan found her in the crowd and tipped his head toward his truck parked beyond the crowd.
“Best view’s back here,” he said.
She followed him, and they climbed up into his truck bed together, side by side, the metal cool beneath them.
Around them, the town cheered at each burst of color, mirrored against two new, glossy vans parked in the parking lot.
Cali rested her chin on her knees and let the wind from the explosions lift strands of her hair.
“You did good tonight,” Ethan said softly. “The whole town’s talking about The Nine now.”
“We did good,” she corrected.
He smiled, then nodded toward the keepsake box resting beside her. “Why don’t you look inside?”
Cali hesitated then picked it up, fingers brushing the carved lid. Inside, the box smelled faintly of woodsmoke and varnish. The fireworks popped overhead—red, white, gold—as her eyes caught something carved at the base. E C.
Her breath caught as the pieces fell into place. She gazed up at him, but he was watching the sky, its reflection flickering in his gray eyes.
“You made this,” she whispered. “And all of those anonymous donations were yours?”
He didn’t answer, just reached across the space between them and twined his fingers with hers. Another firework bloomed, silver this time, bright enough to paint both of them in its glow.
“Looks like the Mayor’s going for another re-election,” Ethan murmured.
Cali laughed, cozy and tired and happy all at once. “She’ll win by a landslide.”
A final flare of gold spiraled upward and broke open into a thousand glittering embers. The crowd cheered somewhere beyond them, but neither of them moved. They sat that way until the last sparkle died out, relishing the warmth of each other’s hand, his thumb brushing along hers.
When Cali’s phone vibrated in her purse, she glanced at the screen and saw a message from Minka. Headed home. Ethan said he’d drive you back. A bunch of silly-faced emojis and hearts followed.
She turned to Ethan, heart still thudding from the fireworks. “Truth or kiss,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you just tell me you had plans to stay in Autumn Ridge?”
He let out a small laugh—half sigh, half surrender.
“Because I didn’t have plans,” he admitted.
“Not really. I figured I’d finish the job, pocket the check, and move on—same as always.
Then somewhere along the way, I started thinking maybe I could stick around a little longer.
The side work was steady, the people were kind, and for once it didn’t feel like I was just passing through someone else’s life. I thought maybe that was enough.”
He looked out toward the empty lot where the last threads of the smoke curled into the sky.
“And then I saw you outside the library that morning, feeding the stray cats. You were just standing there in the sun, completely unaware that you were about to rearrange my life. It wasn’t just that you looked like you belonged here—it was that, for the first time in a long time, I wanted to belong somewhere, too.
With you. And I had to figure it out before Carl hauled me to the next town.
No plan. Lease running out. Time slipping right along with it. ”
Cali swallowed. “But I didn’t make it easy for you. I kept pulling back.”
Ethan nodded once. “I know.” His voice lowered as he met her eyes again.
“But once I realized I could actually see myself building something that lasts—with you—I had to keep trying. Every time I networked, or stayed up late, or traded fixes for cookies instead of money, you were on my mind. Does that make sense?”
She nodded, her throat tight.
“Good,” he murmured. “Because if it’s all the same to you, I choose the kiss.”
She slid closer, cupping his jaw in her hands until he drew his lips to hers. Their mouths kept finding each other, soft and unhurried. Each return was more certain, like they’d finally stopped fighting gravity.
He rubbed his cold nose against hers. “Ready to head out?”
She was teary, relieved, half-laughing from adrenaline. “My place or yours?”
“Ladies choice.”
She bit her lip, remembering Max’s soft fur and the purrs he’d bestowed on her in bed last time he was at her place. “Can I… see them?” she asked. “Then maybe my place.”
Ethan understood. “I’ll do you one better. Let’s swing by my place, pick up the fur kids, and we’ll all spend the night at your house.”
“That sounds great,” Cali said. “I want Max home. I want you there, too.”
“And we know Catsby won’t care either way as long as she’s still in charge.” He slid down from the bed and offered to help her down. “Let’s go home.”
Back at Ethan’s townhome, they found the cats curled together on the couch. Catsby gave them slow blinks and Max stretched, but neither budged. When Cali pulled cat treats from her purse, they were easily lured into their carriers, though.
They pulled up to the A-frame to the sound of hooting owls and the squeak of her neighbor’s weather vane in the night wind.
Ethan carried the cats’ carriers inside, set them down, and released their doors. Max and Catsby went scurrying off, one after the other, toward the loft room.
“I’m sure Max will let her know all the good places to sleep,” Cali said, adjusting the lights and slipping off her coat.
Ethan glanced around the kitchen. “Still feels weird seeing this place so quiet,” he said.
“Quiet?” she asked.
“Yeah. No wine bottles, no pots and pans. No you, sitting on this countertop, driving me insane.”
Her lips curved as she stepped closer to him. “Well, we could fix that.”
He looked at her for a moment then lifted her onto the countertop. She squealed with delight as he traced eager kisses along her collarbone.
“Shall we pick up where we left off?” he asked.
He undid his tie, and a thrill ran up her spine. “No. This round deserves the bedroom. Follow me.”
She took his hands in hers and guided him to the door nearest the bathroom, shutting it behind them. Ethan paused to take in the ambience, the bedroom’s simple colors and dim lamplight. It smelled of fresh linen and her. Her clothes, her perfume, her everything.
He pulled her close, and their mouths met over and over.
Each time was unique, like a snowflake, like no matter how they tried to kiss, it crystallized then melted into the next.
Cali could feel the gnawing heat grow in her stomach again.
As if on command, one of her straps fell from her shoulder, and Ethan filled the space with his lips, planting light kisses along her collarbone and sucking gently at the base of her neck. Her skin tingled at the sensation.
“I wasn’t ready to see you like this,” he confessed. “The minute you walked into that ballroom, I lost all restraint.”
He grasped the other strap in his hand and slid the dress off her. Then he stood before her, speechless, as he admired the matching red strapless bra and seamless panties.
“You enjoy driving me crazy, don’t you?”
She nodded her head and slipped his gray blazer off and lifted her hands to the collar of his button-down shirt.
“So many buttons,” she teased, undoing each one and kissing down his sternum and abdomen as she did it.
She sat on the bed in front of him, legs parted, and glided her hands around the back of his trousers.
She pulled his pelvis closer to her, the swell of him unmistakable through the fabric of his pants.
Ethan dug into his pocket and placed a condom on the nightstand beside the bed.
She glanced up at him, their eyes meeting.
“You don’t have to,” he said.
“But I want to.”
She grasped the zipper between her delicate fingers, pulled down, and guided his pants to the floor.
He stepped out of the legs, kicked them off to the side, and she admired how his body moved under her touch.
Jaw grinding. Hands fisted then relaxed.
The deep V of muscle along his abdomen a tight line that disappeared into his briefs.
He was nearly naked, vulnerable, barely able to contain himself.
As she held his gaze, he ran fingers through her hair and along her chin.
“Okay,” he said, “but don’t take me over the edge. I can’t get your words from the other night out of my head, Cali. In my truck. In the rain.” His cheeks went ruddy. “I want to be inside of you, too.”
She ran a hand along the band of his underwear and slipped them off as well.
He shuddered as her breath ghosted over his skin.
Her touch turned deliberate—a blend of delicate nibbles and licks, then slowly lavishing him until a low sound drew from deep in his chest. Each tremble of his body was its own delicious reward.
“That feels so damn good,” Ethan said breathlessly.
“You think you can handle more?”
“Oh, I’m not done with you yet.”
He hooked an arm around her waist and lifted her into the center of the plush bedding. She giggled at how effortless he made it feel.
Within moments her bra and panties were off, and Ethan was showering her with caresses.
The space between them vanished, replaced by the sound of breath and the slide of skin.
Like an orchestra, he played and fiddled and hummed in smooth, swelling motions.
Her body swayed to the beat he crafted, their breathing steady, syncopated, real.
Then he reached for protection, rolled the condom on, and pushed into her, slow and deliberate, until she gasped and arched against him.
A mix of agony and pleasure unfolded, their rhythm building together until the rest of the world fell away.
Her edges blurred. She couldn’t tell where her body ended and his began, or whether it was his pulse or hers echoing through the quiet.
She came first, but the sound of her crying out his name made him come soon after.
When he finished, she pressed her forehead to his, breath still trembling between them.
For the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel caught between wanting and resisting.
She was just here, now, his warmth anchoring her.
“You okay?” he murmured. He brushed a stray curl from her cheek, his thumb catching the corner of her smile.
“Better than okay.”
They stayed tangled in the hush that followed, their breaths slowing in unison.
“I should’ve gone for the box and the porch swing,” she said playfully.
“Don’t worry. I’ll build you a porch swing, too.”
He planted a kiss on her temple and reached to turn off the lamp.
As the lamplight faded, Cali thought of the night sky over Autumn Ridge—the fireworks, the laughter, the way everything that mattered had come home.
The room fell into soft darkness all around them.
Outside, the fall wind rustled through the trees, but inside, she finally felt still.