“Good thing I like you too,” she says, her voice matching my tone.
Before I can respond, someone calls her name from across the square, and she excuses herself, leaving me staring after her like some lovesick fool.
“She’s got you whipped,” Liam says, smirking. “I know it when I see it, Callie did the same to me.”
I don’t bother denying it.
As the night wears on, the mayor steps up to the makeshift stage, microphone in hand. He talks about the bravery of the firefighters, the resilience of the town, and the importance of community. The crowd cheers and claps, their pride palpable, but my focus is on Juniper, who’s standing near the front, her face lit with admiration.
When the mayor calls me up to say a few words, I freeze. Public speaking isn’t my thing, and they all know it. But Juniper turns, her gaze meeting mine, and the encouragement in her eyes propels me forward.
I step onto the stage, the microphone feeling awkward in my hand. The crowd falls silent, waiting, and for a moment, I consider keeping it short and sweet. But then I glance at Juniper again, and the words come unbidden.
“I’m not much for speeches,” I begin, my voice steady despite the nerves simmering under the surface. “But tonight isn’t about me. It’s about the people who make this place what it is. The firefighters, the volunteers, the community that comes together when it matters most.”
The crowd cheers, but I’m not done. My gaze finds Juniper again, and the rest of the world fades away.
“There’s someone here tonight who’s taught me more about what it means to fight for something than I ever thought possible,” I continue, my voice softening. “She’s the reason I wake up every day ready to fight for this place.”
The crowd erupts into cheers and whistles, but all I see is Juniper, her hand pressed to her mouth, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She pushes through the crowd, closing the distance between us, and when she reaches the stage, she doesn’t hesitate.
Her arms wrap around my neck, and she kisses me, soft at first, then deeper, like she’s trying to pour all the emotion she’s feeling into that one moment. The crowd goes wild, but I don’t care. All that matters is her.
When we finally break apart, she looks up at me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright.
“You have no idea how much that means to me,” she whispers.
I brush a strand of hair from her face, my thumb grazing her cheek. “I think I do.”
The cheers and laughter of the crowd fade into the background as we stand there, wrapped in each other, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Epilogue
Juniper–one month later
The sound of the Phantom River rushing in the distance mingles with the crunch of our boots on the rocky path. Flint is walking ahead of me, his broad shoulders blocking the view of whatever he’s leading me to. His stride is purposeful, and his hand is a steady weight on mine as he guides me up the trail.
“This is very cryptic,” I say, my tone laced with teasing suspicion. “You’re not planning to lead me into the woods and leave me there, are you?”
He glances over his shoulder, his lips quirking into the faintest smirk. “If I wanted to get rid of you, sweetheart, I wouldn’t drag you uphill first. Too much effort.”
I narrow my eyes at him, though I can’t stop the grin tugging at my mouth. “Charming as ever, Flint. Really pulling out all the stops.”
“Just you wait,” he says, his tone low and teasing, and damn it if that gravelly edge doesn’t send a shiver through me.
When we reach a clearing, I stop in my tracks. The fire tower looms above us, its wooden frame catching the late afternoon sunlight. Memories of that harrowing night flood back—thewildfire raging below us, the heat of his body so close to mine, the moment everything between us changed.
I blink up at the structure, my heart thudding. “What are we doing here?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pulls me forward, leading me to the base of the tower. “You’ll see.”
The climb up the stairs is nerve-wracking, but when we reach the top, the view takes my breath away. The forest stretches out in every direction, a patchwork of green and gold, with the Phantom River snaking through it like a silver ribbon. It’s beautiful, peaceful—like we’re standing at the edge of the world.
“Flint,” I breathe, turning to face him. “Why are we here?”
He leans against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest. His face is calm, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something soft and serious that makes my pulse race.
“I bought it,” he says simply.
