Page 40 of Forever To Me

I still haven’t met this kid, but she seems great. I’ll admit, I’m curious about her.

Maggie snorts. “Please. That man is wrapped around Mack’s little finger. He pretends he’s all tough, but one pout from that girl, and suddenly, he’s building her bookshelves at midnight and making pancakes in the shape of horses.”

I nearly choke on my coffee. “You’re kidding.”

“Not even a little,” Maggie says, grinning as she adjusts her hair in the mirror. “I caught him doing it once. Looked embarrassed as sin, too.”

I laugh, picturing a big, brooding Walker standing at the stove, flipping horse-shaped pancakes for his daughter.

Maggie gives me one of those knowing looks, the ones that see straight through you. “He’s a good man, you know.”

I glance down at my coffee, my heart doing that stupid fluttering thing it’s been doing more often lately. “Seems like it.”

She pats my arm. “Mack’s a good kid too. Can’t wait for you to meet her.”

Warmth spreads through me at that. I say nothing, but Maggie’s eyes twinkle like she knows.

She pauses at the door, one hand on the knob. “You’re thinking about staying here, aren’t you?”

I look around The Dogwood, the place that somehow feels more like home than anywhere else has in years.

I think about Walker. About this town that has somehow wrapped itself around my heart without me even noticing. I have nothing to go back to in Nashville and no desire to return.

I smile. “Yeah, Maggs. I think I could stay for a while.”

She beams, then winks. “Well, good.”

And just like that, she’s out the door, off to spoil Mack with cookies and Walker with unsolicited life advice.

I shake my head, laughing to myself.

I stand by the window of The Dogwood, my hands wrapped around a warm mug of coffee.

Bridger Falls doesn’t rush.

There’s no honking traffic, no neon signs flashing, no relentless push to be somewhere, do something, prove something. This town moves at its own pace—steady, like a song played just right.

And somehow, it’s exactly what I didn’t know I needed.

I take a slow sip of my coffee and think about how easy it’s been to breathe here. How the weight I’d carried for so long has felt a little lighter.

My notebook is open on the check-in counter, pages filled with half-written songs and messy lyrics, words coming to me faster than they have in years.

I thought I’d lost this part of myself—the girl who used to scribble lyrics on napkins and hum melodies under her breath just because they made her feel something.

But here? Here, the songs are coming back to me.

Maybe it’s how the town breathes creativity—in the way Cami perfects her lattes like an artist, the way Poppy gets lost in her work under the hood of a car, the way Maggie just pours love into everyone. It’s like a place that heals souls.

Maybe it’s Walker, his quiet intensity, the way he walks into a room, making everything feel a little steadier and more real.

Or maybe it’s all of it—the slow, steady rhythm of life here, the way it’s wrapping around me, making me feel safe, making me feel like maybe, just maybe, I belong.

I smile to myself, fingers tapping lightly against the ceramic mug, a melody already forming in my mind.

I think I could stay here forever.

Chapter 13

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