Epilogue – Savannah
Three Years Later
I'm wiping flour from my hands when the bell above The Enchanted Bean's door jingles, sending a rush of cold December air swirling into the warm space. Logan steps in, snowflakes melting in his dark hair, cheeks flushed from the cold.
Even after three years, the sight of him still catches me off guard sometimes—how tall he stands in the doorway, how his eyes find mine immediately, how his smile shifts from polite to something softer when he spots me behind the counter.
"How's the holiday rush going?" he asks, glancing around.
He bends to kiss me, his lips cold against mine, the faint taste of mint lingering. When he pulls back, his eyes crinkle at the corners in the way that still makes my stomach flutter.
"Surprisingly manageable," I tell him. "Gloria came by earlier to pick up Nathan's birthday cake. She said to tell you they're still on for dinner Friday."
Logan nods, unwinding his scarf. "Good. I've been trying to get Nathan to try that new pizza place for weeks."
"Ready to call it a day? I'm officially off-duty, and you promised to close up the Bean early so we could all meet at the tree lighting."
I lean back against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him. "Almost. Just need to put the snickerdoodles in the display case."
"I'll help," he offers, but makes no move to release me, instead pressing a kiss to the side of my neck.
"You're a terrible helper," I laugh, turning in his arms to face him.
"I'm an excellent helper," he protests, finally letting go to reach for the tray of cookies. "Ask anyone at the station. Chief says I'm indispensable."
"Chief thinks you're a pain in his ass," I correct fondly. "Especially since you convinced Austin to put tinsel on all the helmets."
"Festive safety equipment," Logan nods solemnly. "It was for morale."
As we stand at the display case together, Logan passes me each snickerdoodle with exaggerated care, his fingers lingering against mine with each handoff.
"This one's crooked," he murmurs near my ear, his breath warm against my neck as he adjusts a cookie I've just placed. His other hand settles naturally at my waist, thumb tracing small circles through my sweater.
I bump him gently with my hip, pushing him an inch away. "You're hovering."
"I'm supervising," he corrects, immediately stepping close again. He steals a broken cookie piece when he thinks I'm not looking, popping it into his mouth with a quick, guilty glance my way.
I catch his wrist mid-reach for another piece. "That's coming out of your share, Lieutenant."
His eyes crinkle as he leans down, pressing a cinnamon-sweet kiss to my temple. "Worth it," he whispers, and somehow manages to snag another cookie piece while distracting me with a second kiss at the corner of my mouth.
His laugh vibrates against my skin when I swat his hand away, but he doesn't move back, just adjusts his stance to accommodate me in his space as we continue working, his movements mirroring mine, anticipating where I'll reach next with the ease of years spent learning each other's rhythms.
"How was your shift?" I ask, noticing the slight shadows under his eyes.
"Long," he admits. "Had a call out to a chimney fire. Everyone's okay, but I missed our morning coffee."
I squeeze his hand briefly. "I saved you a cranberry scone."
The smile he gives me is soft around the edges. "See? This is why I married you."
"For the baked goods?"
"Among other things," he murmurs, pulling me closer for a quick kiss.
Twenty minutes later, we're bundled up and walking arm-in-arm down Main Street. The afternoon sun hangs low, casting long shadows across snow-dusted sidewalks.
Whitetail Falls looks like a postcard in December—storefronts glowing with string lights, wreaths on every door, the giant pine in the town square waiting for tonight's lighting ceremony.
"Oh," I remember suddenly, "Mrs. Kowalski wants us for dinner on Sunday. She said, and I quote, 'That husband of yours is getting too skinny,' which is objectively untrue but impossible to argue with."
Logan laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest where my head rests against his shoulder. "You can never be too skinny for Mrs. Kowalski. Remember when she tried to send Paul home with an entire pot roast after the winter festival?"
"His face," I giggle at the memory. "I didn't know the Chief could blush like that."
We pass Moonlight and Manuscripts, where Natalie waves at us through the window while helping a customer. Further down, the hardware store's windows are elaborately decorated with miniature winter villages, Eddie's handiwork evident in the detailed craftsmanship.
The familiar red brick of the fire station comes into view at the end of Emberstone Avenue. Engine 12 sits in the open bay, gleaming under the lights as Bradley polishes chrome fixtures with meticulous care.
"Price!" Paul calls from where he's checking equipment. "I thought you were off-duty. Don't tell me you miss us already."
"Just escorting my wife past all the dangerous ice patches," Logan calls back, his arm tightening around me playfully.
Paul rolls his eyes but can't quite hide his smile. He's softened over the years, especially since marrying Natalie. "Well, while you're here, remind Austin he's on decoration duty for the charity ball. And no more tinsel incidents."
"No promises," Logan grins.
As we continue past the station, Austin jogs out to meet us, cheeks flushed with cold or excitement or both.
"Savannah! Just the person I wanted to see," he says, falling into step beside us. "Do you think you could make those chocolate things with the espresso frosting for Michelle's birthday next week? I'll owe you forever."
"The ones from the Chief's wedding?" I ask, smiling at his enthusiasm. "I already planned on it. They're her favorite."
"You're the best," Austin sighs dramatically. "Seriously, Logan, your wife is a saint."
"Believe me, I know," Logan says, his voice warm with affection.
Austin glances at his watch. "Gotta run, promised Michelle I'd pick her up before the tree lighting. See you guys there!" He jogs backward for a few steps, nearly colliding with a lamppost before spinning around with his typical exuberance.
"He hasn't changed a bit," I observe as we watch him go.
"Thankfully," Logan agrees. "The house would be way too quiet without him bouncing off the walls."
We turn onto Oak Street, heading toward home. Our house sits halfway down the block, warm light already glowing from the windows.
"I think Maggie's awake from her nap," I say, spotting her babysitter moving around our living room. She watches our ten-month-old on my work days, a arrangement that started when Maggie was born.
Logan's face softens at the mention of our daughter, that particular expression he gets that makes my heart swell every time. "Think she'll still want to go to the tree lighting? It's pretty cold."
"And miss her favorite firefighters in Santa hats? Not a chance." I squeeze his hand. "Besides, she's got that tiny snowsuit Bradley and Denise gave her. She looks like a marshmallow in it."
Logan laughs, the sound carrying in the clear winter air. "A very cute marshmallow."
We pause at our gate, snow crunching beneath our boots. The wreath on our door is new this year—pine and cranberries with cinnamon sticks tied with twine, a project Maggie "helped" with mostly by trying to eat the berries.
Logan turns to me before we head inside, his hands coming up to frame my face. His wedding band catches the late afternoon light, gold against my cheek.
"What?" I ask, seeing something in his eyes I can't quite name.
"Nothing," he says, but his smile tells a different story. "Just...remember that morning at The Enchanted Bean? When I asked you to pretend to be my girlfriend?"
I laugh softly. "How could I forget?"
"Best panic decision I ever made," he murmurs, leaning in until his forehead rests against mine. His breath warms my skin, familiar and comforting.
I close my eyes, leaning into him. "Not pretending anymore, Lieutenant."
"Not for a long time now," he whispers, and when he kisses me, I taste hot chocolate, winter air, and the promise we made three years ago that nothing between us would ever be fake again.
Thank you for reading!