Reception chatter filled the lawn. Tables covered in flowers, plates of food, and the kind of desserts only Lila could produce kept people drifting, eating, and celebrating.
Hank made the rounds, family member to family member. His mom hugged him until he couldn’t breathe. His father shook his hand, then surprised him by pulling him into a brief, awkward hug.
“You’ve done well,” his father murmured. “Proud of you, son.”
Her parents, niece, nephew, and cousins, laughing, swatting away her father’s attempts to interrogate Hank about the house’s structural integrity, surrounded Bree.
“He’s marrying an inspector,” Brian said cheerfully, passing by with a beer. “You’ll be fine.”
Colby floated between groups with the ease of someone accustomed to managing crowds. Several locals stopped him to ask about the firehouse. He kept answering with the same careful honesty.
“Beginning the transfer process,” he’d say. “Copper Moon’s been good to me. Feels like the next right step.”
Hank didn’t miss the way several women eyed him with interest.
Colby pretended not to notice.
Something twisted warmly in Hank’s chest. He knew exactly what awaited Colby next spring when tourists came to town, and they'd hopefully get super busy. Copper Moon would have no idea what hit it.
Bree appeared at Hank’s side as the sun dipped low.
“You doing okay?” she asked.
“Perfect,” he said.
“You sure? Because Brian and Tom are arguing about spark plug brands again.”
“That’s normal,” Hank said. “Let them fight it out.”
She smiled, then slid her hand into his. “Come with me,” she said.
She led him through the yard, past the barn strung in lights, past the tables where guests lingered over dessert. Up the porch steps and through the house, down the back hall, out the side door.
To the outbuilding.
The shop.
He opened the door for her. The space glowed. They’d strung up lights earlier for the grand opening preview, but he hadn’t seen it like this. Soft light fell over the lifted bikes, the polished concrete, the framed paintings Bree hung along the main wall: Hank on the track. Colby at a fire call. Brian covered in paint and grease, holding a wrench like a trophy.
And along the far wall, next to the tool chests, were three framed photographs from the Copper Moon Cup. All of them captured moments he hadn’t known she’d seen.
“This is what we’re opening tomorrow,” she said quietly. “This is what we built.”
He stepped closer to her. “Feels like a beginning.”
“Feels like everything,” she said.
He reached for her hand, but she slid her arms around his waist and pulled him down into a kiss that felt different. Deeper. As if marriage had stripped away some final layer of hesitation, neither of them realized they’d kept.
The door clicked shut behind them.
Heat curled low in his spine.
“Bree,” he murmured.
She backed up slowly until her shoulders touched the workbench, pulling him with her. The lights cast a warm glow across her skin. Her wedding dress rustled softly as he set his hands on her hips.
“You look incredible,” he said, voice low.
