Epilogue
Sophia
One year later
“Raider, no.”
Raider freezes halfway toward the basket of biscuits under the table. Slowly, very slowly, he sits.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You know those aren’t for you.”
His ears tilt slightly, like he is pretending to think about that.
Behind me, Gavin laughs. “He’s a working dog,” he says. “He needs fuel.”
“He already had two.”
“Three.”
I turn to stare at him. “You gave him another one?”
“He looked hungry.”
Raider’s tail thumps once against the ground like he agrees with Gavin’s assessment.
Typical.
The Saturday farmer’s market is already busy. Booths line the square, music plays near the fountain, and the air smells like coffee and fresh bread. Our table is piled with cartons of eggs, bundles of herbs, and jars of jam.
A wooden sign hangs from the front of the booth.
BENNETT-HOLT FARM - Protected by Raider
Gavin stands beside me, one arm resting across the back of my chair. Not in uniform today. Just jeans, boots, and a flannel shirt rolled up at the sleeves.
Still intimidating. Still handsome. Still the man who carried me out of the woods a year ago tonight.
I lean slightly into his side.
“You know,” I say quietly, “It used to be easier to sit behind this booth all day. Now, all I want to do is spend Saturdays in bed with my hot husband.”
He leans down, his mouth brushing my ear. “We can do that,” he murmurs. “Skip next week.”
I snort. “Absolutely not. My regulars would riot, and you know it.”
“Worth it,” he says easily.
I turn my head to look at him. “You’re just saying that because you want me all to yourself.”
“You’re tempted. Admit it.”
Heat blooms low in my belly, the same way it did that first night. Some things, it turns out, don’t fade. They just settle deeper.
Raider chooses that moment to inch one paw toward the biscuit basket again.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warn.
Gavin doesn’t even try to hide his grin.
A customer steps up to the table, and I shift forward automatically, slipping into my usual rhythm. “Morning! What can I get for you?”
“Two dozen eggs and a jar of that strawberry jam, please.”
“Excellent choice,” I say, reaching for the cartons.
Gavin moves beside me without a word, handing over a bag, taking cash, making change. We fall into the pattern we’ve built over the past year, easy and practiced. Like we were always meant to do this together. Like it was destined by the Fates.
And I believe it was.
Because I can’t imagine myself with anyone but Gavin. He’s it for me. Forever.
The morning passes in a blur of familiar faces, laughter, and the steady hum of the market. Gavin stays close the entire time, his hand brushing my back when he passes, his presence solid and constant at my side. Raider patrols the perimeter like he’s on duty.
At some point, when the rush dies down, I lean back in my chair and glance up at Gavin.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey.”
I study him for a second. The sun catches in his hair. His expression is relaxed in a way I never saw before that first night. No tension. No hesitation. Just… him.
Mine.
“You ever think about how close we came to not doing this?” I ask softly.
His brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… if I hadn’t gone out on that trail. If you hadn’t seen my truck. If Raider hadn’t found me.”
Gavin’s expression shifts, something deeper settling in his eyes. He steps closer, resting his hand at the back of my neck, his thumb brushing lightly along my skin.
“I think about it,” he admits. “And I don’t like it.”
“Me neither.”
He leans down, pressing a quick, quiet kiss to my lips. “Good thing it didn’t happen that way.”
“Good thing,” I echo.
Raider huffs beside us like he’s had enough of this conversation.
I laugh and reach down to scratch behind his ears. “You know,” I tell him, “You’re the real hero here.”
His tail thumps proudly.
Gavin shakes his head. “Don’t inflate his ego.”
“Too late,” I say. “He already knows.”
Raider sits a little taller.
I glance back up at my husband, my chest warm and full in a way that still surprises me sometimes. One year. One unexpected tumble in the woods. One very determined K-9 cop.
And everything changed.
Gavin catches my expression, his gaze softening.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say, smiling. “Just thinking about how much I love you.”
His hand tightens gently at my neck. “Yeah,” he says, voice low. “Me too.”
Raider noses the basket again.
I glance down at him, already knowing I’ve lost this battle.“Fine,” I sigh, grabbing a biscuit. “But this is the last one.”
His tail thumps like he knows I’m lying.
Gavin huffs out a quiet laugh beside me, warm and familiar, and I can’t help smiling.