Epilogue
Whitney
10 months later
“You are not dressing up as a firefighter for Trunk or Treat,” I inform Rob as he descends the stairs in his CLFD T-shirt and uniform pants.
“I’m always a firefighter for Trunk or Treat.”
“Because you’re always a firefighter.” I put my hands on my hips. “It’s cheating.”
He’s not really paying attention to me until he hits the bottom of the stairs and looks directly at me. Then he stills, his gaze sliding down over my costume.
His brows draw together. “I thought you were going to be a super sexy and villainous fairy tale queen.”
I laugh at his disappointment. “No, I showed you that costume and you said absolutely yes and then I snorted because, actually , absolutely not.”
“So, you went with…” He waves his hand toward me. “That?”
“I’m a teddy bear,” I say, putting my arms out. The fuzzy one-piece costume even has a hood with little ears. “You wouldn’t believe how warm and comfortable this thing is.”
“Are you naked under it?”
“No.” I laugh and slap his hand when he tries to feel my ass through the costume. “We have to go or we’re going to be late.”
We ride together in his SUV, as we always do. Only twice have I ever been stranded when he had to leave on an extended call, and once I went to the General Store and visited with Beth, and the other I walked to the inn and hung out in the kitchen with Penny.
Since the main street is closed off for the town’s Halloween celebration, he parks next to a police cruiser and we walk the rest of the way. After giving me a kiss and a sneaky tug of my teddy bear’s tail, he heads to the engine and his guys, while I head to the booth I’ll be manning. Donovan was in town to take Sam trick-or-treating, and he’d set up earlier in the afternoon. Once I arrive, he’ll join his wife and son—who is dressed as a blue dog from TV he’s obsessed with—along with his adorable daughter, Becca, who is dressed as the blue dog’s little sister for her first Halloween.
I’m representing Donovan’s latest initiative, handing out information on how our neighbors can receive free winterization upgrades for their homes. And since I might have volunteered to be on the Trunk or Treat committee—and honestly, almost every committee in Charming Lake—I can see the fire truck from the spot I assigned my booth to.
The entire crew is present today, with neighboring departments ready to cover if an emergency occurs. The guys are wearing costume bunker coats over their T-shirts, not wanting to expose all the kids to their actual gear, though they’re wearing their helmets. Watching Rob interact with his community always fills me with joy, and it’s extra special now that it’s my community, too.
By the time the kids going up and down the street to collect candy is over, as well as the costume parade and awards and all the other fun activities, I’m regretting the teddy bear costume. The problem with choosing a costume that’s warm enough to be able to skip a coat at the end of October in New England is that sometimes it’s not that cold.
“Do you want me to put the AC on?” Rob asks when we’re finally back in the SUV and I have my window halfway down.
“No, because it’s not actually hot, so you’d probably have to set the thermostat to like forty degrees to make it kick on. I just want a little breeze on my face.”
When he turns into our driveway and hits the button to open the door, I have a moment to appreciate that feeling of home that never gets old before we’re pulling into the garage.
I love our home. Our life together. I own my own jeans now, the community of Charming Lake has made me one of their own, and I get to wake up every morning next to the love of my life—as long as he’s not on a call.
“I can’t wait to get out of this,” I say once we’re inside, but Rob stops my hand when I reach for the zipper.
“Hold on a sec. I’ll be right back.”
I laugh when he ducks into the kitchen and returns with the candy bowl we’ll be using when the kids do their official Halloween neighborhood trick-or-treating in a couple of days.
“It’s all your favorite candy. I picked out all the ones you don’t like.” I smile and reach for it, but he covers the candy with his other hand and pulls the bowl out of my reach. “What do you say?”
I laugh, but when he doesn’t give in, I surrender. “Trick or treat.”
When he removes his hand, there’s a small velvet box nestled in the center of the candy. My hand goes to my mouth as I gasp in surprise.
After lifting the box out, he sets the bowl on the coffee table and opens the lid. The diamond winks at me—small and round and incredibly beautiful—before he plucks it from its satin pillow.
“I love you, Whitney. I fell head over heels for you the first day I saw you, and I fall more in love with you every day. Will you be my wife?”
“Yes,” I whisper, tears clogging my throat. We’d talked about marriage, but in a vague way, like something we’d get to at some point. I never expected this, and after he slides the ring onto my finger, I throw my arms around his neck. “I love you so much. I can’t wait to marry you.”
He has to burrow under the fake fur to press a kiss to my neck. “You feel like a furnace in this thing.”
“Be honest. When you imagined this, you thought you’d be proposing to a super sexy villain queen, didn’t you?”
“The teddy bear works, too, but I kinda pictured it that way, yes,” he says, and then he laughs and kisses me again.
Thank you so much for reading Rob and Whitney’s story!