Page 68 of Mountain Bean Dream
His hand brushed against my arm, his touch warm despite the cold night. “I adore hearing you hum and sing along to the overhead music at the Coffee Loft. When I go grocery shopping, I make sure to select the reddish, shiniest apples as I know those are the ones you secretly dig for.”
What? That was so sweet.
“And I love the woman who played me like a fiddle at trivia night.” There was a mocking tone woven through his words. “You know more about that universe than you’d let on.”
I couldn’t help the smile bubbling to my lips and pushing my cheeks nice and high.
“I especially love the one who calls a wooden truck ‘Elmer Pinewood.” Shaking his head, he smiled, soft and crooked. “You are someone who makes me feel alive every single morning with a coffee, a sweet smile, and a ridiculous pun.” He took a step closer, and suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. “That’s who I’m in love with.”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I tried to look away, but his hand caught my chin, tilting my face back toward his.
“Now you go, but about me.”
My mind blanked.
“Just kidding.” He sent a leg-weakening wink in my direction. “But in all seriousness, Molly, you don’t have to run anymore,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Not from them, not from me. Just… stay. Please.”
I closed my eyes, his words unearthing something raw and vulnerable inside me. When I opened them again, moretears spilled over, sliding down my cheeks. My heart stuttered. For the first time in forever, I couldn’t think of a witty comeback.
“Well, if that’s the case,” I finally managed, my voice wobbling but light, “you’re stuck with me. Because I love you too. I’ve never been as comfortable with someone as I am with you, Being with you is as natural as breathing.”
The relief on his face was so pure, so heart-melting, I didn’t care that I probably looked a mess, with my hair half-fallen out of my updo and my mascara smudged. He cupped my face, brushing his thumb along my jaw, and I leaned into him like I’d been waiting my whole life to close the distance.
Jeremy tilted his head, his eyes soft but steady. The same way they’d been the night we’d kissed at trivia, and the same way they’d been on the dance floor when he’d confessed his feelings. Only now, something had shifted. There was no audience, no plan, no pretending.
It was just us.
And then he kissed me.
It wasn’t like the trivia night, or even like the ballroom. This kiss was everything we were: messy, beautiful, and completely, gloriously real.
When we finally broke apart, breathless and grinning, Jeremy leaned his forehead against mine.
“Still think you’re the femme fatale?”
I laughed, leaning into him, my heart lighter than it had been in years. “Not anymore.”
He smiled, his thumb brushing my cheek. “Good. Because I prefer you like this—just Molly.”
The warmth in his gaze melted the last of my fear. For the first time in forever, I felt seen, safe, and whole.
“Their story might end here,” I murmured, glancing toward the lodge, “but ours is just beginning.”
And as his hand found mine, for the first time in forever,I wasn’t afraid of how my story might end.
Epilogue
A few months later…
“What do you think, Grandma? The whole shop smells like fresh-ground beans and caramel drizzle,” Jeremy said, holding the Coffee Loft door wide with a flourish and shooting me a playful wink. “Molly’s probably brewing up trouble again.”
I smirked, only briefly taking my focus off the espresso machine for my favourite customers. “Trouble doesn’t need fancy equipment, Jeremy. Just a sharp grinder, sharper wit, and a little extra foam art to keep people guessing.”
His grandmother’s eyes twinkled as she was wheeled over to Jeremy’s favourite spot. Her snow-white hair was impeccably styled, and she wore a cardigan in a soft lavender shade that made her cheeks glow. If Jasper had a queen, it was Jesse-Marie.
“Now, Molly,” she said, her voice warm and rich like honey on toast, “Jimmy tells me you’re still living in room sixteen. Isn’t that a bit snug after all this time?”
I tapped out the ground beans and poured her a cup of tea—her usual with just a splash of honey. “Not at all. It’s cozy. Besides, I’m starting to think of it as my castle.”