When we came up for air, he rested his forehead against mine. Up close, his eyes were equal parts question and want.
“Took you long enough,” I breathed.
He huffed out a laugh that made his chest shake. “Nothing means a thing without you, Firecracker.”
“Good,” I said, swallowing a smile and a sob at the same time. “Because I’m not going to be quiet.”
“Wouldn’t know what to do with you if you did.”
A beat of silence opened around us, small and private, like the square had given us a pocket to stand in while the world rearranged itself.
Then reality rushed back. Thatcher stepped forward, that mountain stillness shifting into something dangerous. Holt’s scowl deepened into a warning.
“Not here,” Calla hissed at Holt under her breath, catching his sleeve.
“Not tonight,” Joely added, sliding between Thatcher and the bonfire with a look that could stop traffic. “You can grumble later.”
Dane, because he’s never seen a line he didn’t want to walk, cupped his hands around his mouth. “I have a statement! As the fun Thorne brother, I?—”
Rowan barked, “Absolutely not,” without looking up from her clipboard. “No statements that aren’t pre-approved by town hall.”
Dane blinked, grinned, and bowed. “Yes, ma’am.”
She didn’t smile, though her pen did pause.
Harlan’s hands eased at my waist like he remembered himself… and my family… and the town… and the fact that kissing me wasn’t the same as getting to keep me. He cleared his throat, his glance tipping toward Rowan as if he’d planned more and needed a witness.
“There’s one other thing,” he said, loud enough to carry, quiet enough that it felt like he was still talking to me. “I told myself I’d make a big speech. Turns out I don’t need one.”
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small wooden plaque. The grain was dark, the letters hand-carved, and burnished smooth.
BIG PACKAGE OUTFITTERS
OUTINGS & COMMUNITY DIRECTOR: JESSA THORNE
My breath left me in a slow rush. He’d carved my name like it belonged there.
“I filed the paperwork with town hall this afternoon,” he said, flicking a glance at Rowan.
Rowan, very composed, nodded once. “Partnership agreement and program charter on record. Insurance rider pending but approved in principle.” Her gaze ticked up to me, softer than I’d ever seen it. “Congratulations.”
I took the plaque like it was breakable and priceless all at once. “You did this today?”
“I should have done it the first time you walked into my shop with that mouth and those lists,” he said, a rough smile pulling at his lips. “I was too stubborn to see you weren’t trying to take anything from me. You were trying to build something with me.”
He looked at the crowd again, at my brothers, at the town that would never stop having opinions. Then back at me.
“I want you,” he said, simple as that. “I want you in my store, in my life, on my books, for the whole damn town to see.” Then he glanced at my brothers. “If you want to take a swing at me, I’ll stand here and let you. But I’m not walking away from her.”
Tears stung the backs of my eyelids. “What if it gets hard?”
“It will,” he said, turning his attention back to me. “You’ll tell me when I’m being a controlling bastard. I’ll tell you when you’re taking on too much. We’ll fight. We’ll get over it. And when your brothers threaten to break my jaw, I’ll hand them a waiver and ask them to initial next to the part where you said yes.”
Thatcher made a noise that started like a growl but ended in acceptance. Holt’s mouth flattened. Dane, happy to be the “fun” brother, clapped his hands together. “Oh, I like him now.”
Everyone around the square slowly remembered they had other things to do. Kids tugged at sleeves, hungry for s’mores. Ridge yelled something about a knot-tying speed run. Trace pointed a climber’s toes like the gentle tyrant he was. Nellie gave me a look that said told you so.
Harlan lifted the plaque like a toast. “Where do you want it?”
