Page 103 of Stuck with Doctor Grump

Hazel grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Girl, even your dreams couldn’t script this happy ending. Now come on—we’ve got a celebration to throw.”

The town rallied faster than I could blink. Someone hung bunting across Main Street. Eleanor and Marge made signs that saidWELCOME HOME, DOCin crooked, glittering block letters. Kids darted between tables with streamers tangled around their arms. The bakery brought out trays of chocolate chip cookies. I made a mental note to tell Damien they were absolutely not from me.

I’d never seen Cedar Springs come alive like this. It wasn’t a grand parade or a movie scene—it was simple, heartfelt, and full of mismatched chairs and overdone lemonade. It was home.

And it was waiting for him.

The sun slid lower, casting long shadows on the pavement. The crowd shifted. Murmurs rose. A few folks checked their watches. Eleanor squinted down the road and muttered, “He’s late.”

I laughed nervously. “Maybe he stopped to fix someone’s heart on the way here.”

Hazel elbowed me gently. “He’s coming, Ruby. He wouldn’t miss this.”

I nodded.

But my heart paced harder.

Damien

I hit the brakes and cursed under my breath. A construction sign blinkedDETOUR AHEADin blazing orange, and the two-lane backroad narrowed into gravel. A semi had jackknifed two miles back, rerouting traffic through the woods.

Of course.

I grabbed my phone. No signal.

I glanced at the time—seven thirty-eight.

Sunset was minutes away.

The engine hummed as I turned onto the detour, the tires crunching over gravel and dust. My thoughts raced alongside the pickup.

Please don’t let her think I changed my mind.

Please let her know I’m still choosing her.

Please—

The trees thinned. The gravel gave way to asphalt. And there it was, just ahead—the edge of Cedar Springs. I could see the tips of houses, the steeple of the old church, the silhouette of the Hearts in Bloom sign like a lighthouse pulling me home.

But I was still minutes out.

And she was waiting.

Chapter twenty-seven

Ruby

I pasted on a smile that felt more like a flimsy Band-Aid than confidence. It was the kind of smile you wear when your insides are tangled tighter than a florist’s ribbon drawer. Cedar Springs’ town square shimmered with fairy lights and flower crowns, the scent of fresh cinnamon rolls wafting through the air, carried on the early evening breeze.

“He’ll be here,” Hazel said beside me, nudging my elbow. “He said sunset.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, tucking a wild strand of hair behind my ear. “So did the Mayan calendar.”

She snorted, but I could see the flicker of worry in her eyes too. The kind of worry you only feel when you know someone else’s heart is on the line.

Children chased each other between picnic tables, sparklers fizzing in their hands like tiny comets. A hand-painted banner stretched across the bakery awning: Welcome Home, Dr. Cole! A daisy looped through every letter. The townsfolk had shown upwith everything short of confetti cannons—and if I’d given them time, they probably would’ve added those too.

I scanned the winding road leading into town for the hundredth time. Empty. Still.

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