My eyes went wide. “The cinnamon rolls!” We both shot up.
Noah was already scrambling to his feet, bare-chested and gorgeous, while I grabbed my hoodie and flew into the kitchen.
And unfortunately, more smoke billowed everywhere when I opened the oven. Noah had opened the door, then grabbed a towel and fanned the air.
When the pan clattered onto the stove and the worst of the smoke cleared, we just stood there, side by side, catching our breath.
“I thought you said you could cook.”
I opened my mouth in shock. And then we started laughing.
Big, helpless, ridiculous laughter.
I turned to him, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye, while Noah tossed the towel onto the counter.
"You know," he said, his tone shifting to try to sound casual. "We probably shouldn’t hang out in this smoke.”
I tilted my head, playing innocent. "Where should we go then?”
HIs gaze flicked around, settling on the hallway leading off the main room.
I gave him a wicked smile, reached for his hand, and tugged him toward my bedroom. "Would you like a tour?"
"Lead the way, Faraday."
I did.
Because I wanted this man. I trusted him, and yup. I really loved him.
And this wasn’t just a fling anymore. Not even close.
EPILOGUE
SEVERAL MONTHS LATER…
Spring had returned to Matunuck, and with it, the scent of salt and blooming lilacs outside my grandmother’s cottage. Inside, it smelled like garlic, basil, and sun-dried tomato—aka, live-streaming in progress.
"And once it thickens," I said, giving the spoon a little flourish toward the camera, "we’ll add the cream and a splash of white wine. Not too much—unless you’re planning to nap straight through dinner. And hey, no judgment here."
Behind me, Pippa stretched out long and lazy across the windowsill, eyes half-lidded in the late afternoon light. She technically belonged to Noah, but after a single visit, she gave up her wanderlust tendencies and claimed permanent residency at the beach house. As it turned out, she loved me.
She wasn’t the only one.
Noah spent most of his free time here as well.
So much so that, a few weeks ago, he’d brought the fish over as well. Feeding time was a two-person operation now—one of us would distract Jumbo with a net, and the other snuck flakes to Plink—and I swear, although my mom disagreed, Jumbo was looking slimmer these days.
It was nice, us all-but-officially living together. Like a big happy family, but with more animals and less children.
In my favorite place in the world.
I reached up and touched the pendant at my neck, fingertips grazing the smooth stone. Just before Christmas, I had gone with Babs to her jeweler—the one who could press ashes into something beautiful. I’d brought Gran and Dad with us, in the only way I could, and had pendants made for all three of us.
When they’d opened theirs, I’d held my breath.
It wasn’t quite closure.
But it was a way to carry them forward, close to our hearts, where they'd always belonged.
