Page 49 of All You Need Is Macchiato

"I love you," Kathryn whispers against my lips. "Even when you're stubborn."

"Especially when I'm stubborn?"

"Especially then."

Some love stories start with coffee cups and wish cards.

Some begin with impractical shoes and mountain views.

But the best ones? They never really end at all. They just keep growing, like mountain laurel in spring, blooming more beautiful with each passing season.

Epilogue

Kathryn

Elk Ridge, one year later...

Mountain laurel petals drift past my window, dancing on the spring breeze. The garden terrace below has been transformed into something magical—white chairs in neat rows, fairy lights strung between trees, and flowers everywhere. So many flowers that Marie joked about running out of vases in three counties.

"Almost ready?" Evie appears in the doorway of the bridal suite, holding a small box. "I have something for you."

"More something borrowed?" I smooth my hands over the simple white dress, which already features Evie's vintage pearl earrings.

"Something remembered." She opens the box to reveal a delicate lavender sprig, preserved and pressed. "Claire—Nolan's mother—wore this at her wedding. She loved what the flower meant, what it stood for."

"Home," I whisper, touching the dried petals gently. "Family."

"Love that blooms even in the mountains." Evie tucks the sprig into my bouquet. "She would have loved you, dear. Almost as much as her son does."

Before I can respond, Sophia bustles in with my veil. "Ten minutes! Are you ready? Have you cried yet? Wait, don't cry—I just finished your makeup."

"I'm not crying." But I blink rapidly anyway. "I'm just..."

"Happy?" Evie's eyes twinkle. "That tends to happen when you find where you belong."

They leave me for a final moment alone, and I turn back to the window. Below, guests are finding their seats. I spot Old Joe in his best suit, Sara arranging what looks like a tower of pastries, Marie making last-minute adjustments to the flower arch where Nolan and I will say our vows.

Nolan.

My heart does that familiar skip it's been doing since he first looked at me like I was something precious instead of something to resist.

A knock at the door reveals Jake, who'll be walking me down the aisle. "Ready to make an honest man out of Mountain Man?"

"Is anyone ever ready for a Callahan?"

"No." He grins. "That's what makes it an adventure."

The ceremony passes in a blur of sensation and emotion. The scent of mountain laurel and wildflowers. The warmth of the spring sun. The sound of coffee shop wind chimes we hung in the trees, their gentle music carrying on the breeze.

But mostly, Nolan.

Nolan, standing tall and handsome in his suit (though I spot his favorite boots beneath). Nolan, whose eyes never leave mine as I walk toward him. Nolan, who looks at me like I'm every wish he ever made coming true at once.

"I didn't write my vows on a wish card," he says when it's time, his voice carrying across the hushed garden. "Though it seemed fitting. Because you, Kathryn Taylor, are the best wish I never knew to make."

I grip his hands tighter, grounding myself in their familiar warmth.

"You came to our town in and somehow you saw straight through every wall I'd built. You believed in magic and community and the power of coffee to bring people together. But mostly, you believed in me. Even when I was too stubborn to believe in myself."

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