"With me," he repeated.
We walked through once more, Finn pointing out quirks—the fireplace drew well but you had to open the flue just right and the shower ran hot fast.
"I'll take it," I said when we were back outside. "When could I move in?"
"We can sign the lease tonight if you want. Bring a check and you could move in tomorrow." Finn looked at me for a long moment. "Welcome to Juniper Bluff, Brent. Don't make me regret this."
"I won't."
On the drive back, Jason's hand found mine. Through the windshield, Juniper Bluff appeared like something from a snow globe—wreaths on every door, smoke rising from chimneys.
Home.
I was going home.
Chapter 12
Jason
December twenty-first arrived with fresh snow and a text message that changed everything.
I was at the library when my phone buzzed. I excused myself and pulled it out, expecting Brent with lunch plans.
Instead:This is the publisher Micah connected you with. We'd like to offer you a contract for "The Observer's Heart." Can you come by this afternoon to discuss?
I stared at the screen, rereading the words until they blurred. A contract. For my book.
I was still standing in the middle of the library, and a patron was waiting for help. I mumbled an apology and practically ran to the staff room to grab my coat.
I called Brent from my car, hands shaking. He answered on the third ring.
"Jason? What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. Everything's right. They want to publish my book."
Silence. Then: "Jason. That's incredible. Where are you?"
"Leaving the library."
"Come to the cabin. Right now. We're celebrating."
***
When I pulled up, Brent was already on the porch waiting. The moment I got out of the car, he pulled me into a kiss that made my knees weak.
"You did it," he murmured against my lips.
"We did it. You helped me see what the book needed."
"No." He pulled back to look at me, hands framing my face. "This is yours. Your talent, your story, your courage. I just got to watch you be brilliant."
Inside, his laptop was open on the kitchen table, papers scattered everywhere. But he closed it all without hesitation.
"Tell me everything," he said, pulling me down onto the couch.
So I told him. About the email, the meeting scheduled for this afternoon, and how this felt like a dream.
"It's real," Brent said firmly. "And you deserve this."
