I look up at him through tears. He’s not kneeling. He doesn’t need to. His eyes are shining, jaw tight like he’s holding himself together with sheer will.
“Rory Sullivan,” he says. “Will you marry me?”
I nod so hard my neck aches. “Yes. Oh my God, yes.”
Applause erupts. Someone cheers. Someone else starts crying—pretty sure it’s not me this time.
Dax is across the counter in a heartbeat. He lifts me like I weigh nothing, coconut milk be damned, and kisses me hard—mouth hot, sure, claiming. My hands fist in his jacket as the shop spins.
Right on cue, the front door bursts open.
The entire firehouse pours in.
Helmets. Grins. Thunderous applause.
“About time!” Someone yells.
Ash starts clapping wildly off-beat. Someone whoops. Someone whistles.
I laugh into Dax’s mouth, tears still spilling, and think distantly that I will be finding coconut milk in the grout for weeks.
I don’t care.
He pulls back just enough to press his forehead to mine. “You okay, Red?”
I laugh. Sob. Nod. “I’m perfect.”
He smiles like he just won everything.
And standing there, in my wrecked coffee shop, ring warm on my finger, surrounded by noise and love and found family, I know that this is the best thing.
Second Epilogue
Dax
next Valentine’s Day
The Devil’s Peak Lodge looks like a snow globe someone shook too hard.
Pink lights are strung from the rafters, heart-shaped paper lanterns sway gently near the windows, and the smell of cocoa, pine, and sugar hangs thick in the air. Kids are everywhere—laughing, shrieking, packing snow into lopsided snowmen outside while the adults pretend they aren’t watching every second.
Rory stands near the fireplace, cheeks flushed, hands wrapped around a mug of hot cocoa that probably isn’t doing much to keep her warm. She’s laughing at something Margie Warner is saying, head tipped back, hair loose down her back, red dress catching the firelight like it knows it belongs there.
God, she’s beautiful.
I don’t mean dressed up, Valentine’s beautiful. I meanmine. The woman who changed my whole life with a smile and a yes. The woman carrying my ring and—very soon—our kid.
Kids.
Plural.
My chest tightens in that familiar way that still surprises me sometimes. Like my heart doesn’t quite believe it gets to be this full.
“Stop staring,” Ash mutters beside me, elbowing my ribs. “You’re gonna give yourself a medical event.”
I don’t look away. “I’m allowed. She said yes.”
Axel snorts. “Pretty sure she said yesbeforeyou finished the question.”
