Chapter 7 #2
Gas lamps flickered to life as the afternoon dimmed, their warm glow reflecting off the snow and turning everything golden.
Shop windows glowed with welcome, each storefront decorated for the approaching holidays.
The Bavarian architecture that could seem almost too perfect in full daylight took on a fairy-tale quality in the snow—all dark timber and white stone, steep roofs and carved details that spoke of craftsmanship from another era.
Mia’s hand tightened on his arm as they walked, and he felt something in his chest ease slightly. She was still angry. Still hurt. But she was here, walking beside him through the first snow, her breath making clouds in the cold air.
They passed Raven’s boutique, its windows displaying winter fashions against a backdrop of fairy lights and evergreen branches. Next came The Reading Nook, where Sophie had created a window display featuring snow-themed books and what looked like a tiny village made entirely of book spines.
“I used to dream about this,” Mia said quietly. “When I was working undercover, living in places that were all concrete and suspicion. I’d dream about somewhere like this. Somewhere with seasons and community and traditions that actually meant something.”
“And then you found it,” Zeke said. “Built a life here.”
“I did.” She stopped walking, turning to face him. Snow caught in her dark hair, melting against her skin. “That’s what makes this so hard, Zeke. You came here and brought your world with you—the danger, the secrets, the operations. And suddenly the safe place I built doesn’t feel safe anymore.”
“I know.” He wanted to touch her face, brush away the snowflakes, pull her close. But he kept his hands to himself, giving her space. “I know I did that. And I’m sorry. Not just sorry I got caught or sorry you’re angry. I’m sorry I made you feel unsafe in the home you built. That’s unforgivable.”
“Then why did you bring me out here?” She gestured around them. “To what? Show me how pretty the town is? Remind me what I’m risking by being involved with you?”
“No.” He pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket. “To show you this.”
She took it, frowning. Inside were papers—official documents with seals and signatures.
“It’s the deed to a house,” he said. “Three bedroom, two bath, on the south edge of town. Has a big yard, a workshop that could be converted into a studio for whatever you want. Good bones, needs some work, but it’s solid.”
She stared at the papers. “You bought a house?”
“Last week. Before everything went sideways with Tina, before the operation escalated.” He showed his hands in his pockets, suddenly nervous in a way he hadn’t been facing down armed criminals.
“I was going to wait to show you. Do it properly—take you to see it, let you walk through it, see if you could picture us living there together. But I’m out of time and out of ways to prove to you that I mean it when I say I’m done. That I want a life here. With you.”
“Zeke—”
“The retirement paperwork is filed. The house is bought. The job in Riverton is mine if I want it—I just have to accept.” He met her eyes.
“The only thing I don’t have is you. And I’m starting to think maybe I don’t deserve you.
Not after everything I’ve put you through.
Not after proving that I haven’t really changed at all. ”
The snow fell harder now, thick flakes that blurred the edges of buildings and muffled sound. They stood in the middle of Main Street, the apex of the X visible behind them where The Lampstand glowed warm and welcoming.
“You bought a house,” she repeated, still processing.
“I bought a house. Because I was serious three years ago when I said I wanted forever with you. I just didn’t know how to make it work.
I kept thinking one more case, one more operation, and then I could walk away clean.
But there’s never a clean exit from this life.
There’s just deciding what matters more—the job or the person you love. ”
“And what matters more?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“You,” he said simply. “You matter more. You’ve always mattered more. I was just too stubborn and too scared to admit it.”
She looked down at the papers again, at the official seals and signatures that made it real. “This is crazy. We’ve barely been back together a week. We haven’t even decided if we’re staying together.”
“I know. It’s crazy and impulsive and probably a terrible idea.
” He smiled slightly. “But I’ve made enough careful, calculated decisions in my life.
They keep leading me away from the only thing I’ve ever wanted.
So I’m trying something new—making a crazy, impulsive decision that might actually lead me toward it instead. ”
“I’m still angry at you.”
“I know.”
“But—” She folded the papers, tucking them back into the envelope. “But I’d like to see this house. After the shop closes today. If the offer’s still open.”
Something in his chest unclenched. “The offer’s open. Always.”
“Okay then.” She handed the envelope back to him. “Now feed me. Because you were right—I haven’t been eating, and that speech made me dizzy.”
He laughed—the first real laugh he’d managed in days—and offered his arm again. “The Lampstand?”
“Where else?”
They walked toward the apex of downtown, where The Lampstand stood like a beacon in the snow.
The building was even more beautiful in winter, its stone facade dusted white, its beacon light cutting through the falling snow like a promise.
Through the windows, he could see families gathered around tables, couples leaning close over flickering candles, the O’Hara clan scattered throughout like they owned the place.
Which, technically, they did.
Mac was at the hostess stand, her usual energy somehow amplified by the weather. “Mia! Zeke! Get in here before you freeze. Grandma’s been asking about you all day.”
The warmth inside was almost shocking after the cold. The massive fireplace roared with a fire that cast dancing shadows across the dining room. The smell of roasting meat and fresh bread and something sweet with cinnamon wrapped around them like a hug.
“She has been?” Mia asked.
“Oh yeah. She’s got opinions about you two.” Mac’s grin was pure mischief. “But don’t worry, they’re mostly good opinions. Mostly.”
She led them to the same corner table by the fireplace, the one that was somehow always available when they needed it. The windows beside them offered a perfect view of Main Street, where snow continued to transform the town into something magical.
Zeke helped Mia with her coat, then shed his own. When they sat across from each other, knees almost touching under the small table, it felt intimate in a way that had nothing to do with the physical space and everything to do with the moment they were in.
“Thank you,” Mia said quietly. “For showing me the house papers. For trying.”
“I’m going to keep trying,” he said. “For as long as it takes.”
“Even if it takes forever?”
“Especially if it takes forever.”
She smiled—a real smile, the first he’d seen in days—and reached across the table to take his hand. Her fingers were cold from the walk, and he wrapped both his hands around hers, warming them.
“Then I guess we’d better order,” she said. “Because I have a feeling this is going to be a long conversation.”
They were studying menus when Zeke’s phone buzzed. He almost ignored it—Mia was finally talking to him again, finally looking at him without that wall of hurt in her eyes—but training made him glance at the screen.
Blaze.
His stomach dropped.
“I have to take this,” he said, already standing. “I’m sorry.”
He stepped away from the table, moving toward the entryway where the noise was less. “Tell me.”
“We found her,” Blaze said, his voice tight. “Fishermen spotted something in the river near the north bridge. It’s Tina, Zeke. I’m sorry.”
The restaurant sounds faded to white noise. Zeke closed his eyes, feeling the familiar weight of failure settle over him like a shroud.
“I’m coming,” he said.
“No need. Scene’s already processed, coroner took the body.”
Zeke looked back at the table where Mia sat, studying her menu, snowflakes still melting in her hair. They’d had five minutes. Five minutes of something that felt almost like hope.
“I’m at The Lampstand,” he said. “We’re at The Lampstand.”
“I know. Mac texted me you were there.” A pause. “I’ll be there in five. And Zeke? This one’s going to be hard. They didn’t make it quick.”
The line went dead.
Zeke stood there for a moment, phone in hand, watching Mia through the doorway. She looked up, caught his eye, and her smile faded as she read his expression.
She stood, moving toward him. “What happened?”
“Blaze is on his way.” His voice sounded distant to his own ears. “They found Tina.”
He didn’t have to say the rest. She could see it in his face, in the set of his shoulders, in the way he couldn’t quite meet her eyes.
“Oh, Zeke.” She took his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
And just like that, the anger between them didn’t matter. The hurt and betrayal and broken trust—it was all still there, but underneath it was something stronger. Something that had survived three years apart and a week of lies.
She was here. She was holding his hand. And when Blaze arrived with the details of Tina Wolfe’s death, she didn’t let go.