“Traitor,” Dean mutters, struggling with his traitorous dog’s limp body. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
Rex’s tail thumps once. Then he goes back to whining dramatically.
I watch Dean wrestle with his dignity and his dog, and fall a little bit more in love with both of them.
Finally, Dean manages to haul Rex toward the door, the dog dragging his paws the entire way. “We’re going now. Rex needs dinner.”
“Rex needs his mom and dad to stop fighting their feelings,” Mads calls out.
Dean’s ears go impossibly redder. “That’s—we’re not?—”
“Friday night,” I interrupt, saving him. “Seven o’clock. You’re picking me up.”
He stops. Turns. Looks at me with such tenderness that Asher makes an actual gasping sound.
“Friday,” Dean confirms. “Wear comfortable shoes.”
The door closes. Rex howls mournfully from outside like his heart is breaking.
I stare at the door, at my son and future daughter-in-law who are absolutely never letting this go, at the festival plans still spread across my counter.
Then I start laughing. Because this is my life now. Dating my son’s fire chief. Being ambushed by well-meaning children. Having a dog who’s more invested in my love life than I am.
“You two are never going to let this go, are you?” I finally manage.
“Never,” they say in unison.
“We’re so happy for you, Mom.” Asher stands, pulls me into a hug that smells like popcorn and cologne. “You deserve this. Happiness. Someone who looks at you like Chief Beckett does.”
“How does he look at me?” I whisper against his shoulder.
“Like you hung the moon.” Mads joins the hug, sandwiching me between them. “Like he can’t quite believe you’re real. Like he’s terrified and thrilled and falling so hard it hurts.”
My eyes burn. “That’s very specific.”
“That’s what I see.” She pulls back, frames my face with her hands. “You’re glowing, Jo. I’ve never seen you glow like this.”
“I kissed a fire marshal,” I admit. “In my boutique. Where anyone could see.”
“Good.” Asher grins. “Let them see. Let the whole town know my mom is happy.”
They leave shortly after, still laughing, still high-fiving, still absolutely delighted with themselves. I watch them go, then turn back to the counter where Dean’s plans are still spread out.
Detailed diagrams showing traffic flow. Permit applications already filled out. Timeline suggestions. A Valentine’s Trail that’s bigger and better than anything I imagined.
He did this for me. Spent hours creating something that solves my problems and expands my dreams simultaneously.
My phone buzzes.
Dean:Rex is sulking in the truck. He thinks I’m the villain. Am I the villain?
I smile.
Me:You’re the hero. Don’t let anyone tell you different.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
Dean:Friday can’t come fast enough.
