He settles beside me, passing me a bottle. The swing creaks gently as we rock, a comfortable silence between us.

"So," I say finally, "how does it feel to be a local legend?"

He groans. "Please don't."

"I'm serious! Three different people asked for your autograph today. Mrs. Peabody wants you to sign her rolling pin."

"Her rolling pin?"

"She says she'll never wash it again." I giggle at the thought.

He laughs, that full, unguarded sound I've come to love. "I've signed weirder things."

"Like what?" I ask, my curiosity taking over.

"I've been asked to sign every body part imaginable. One guy even asked me to sign his dick. Thankfully, security stepped in when he tried to whip it out. I’ve had an older woman ask me to sign the urn that held the ashes of her dead husband, and multiple different kinds of sex toys," he grimaces.

I laugh and shake my head as I take a sip of beer. "But seriously, your little impromptu concert is all anyone can talk about. Ruby is already planning next year's festival with you as the headliner."

"Is that right?" Blaze's eyes crinkle at the corners. "Guess I'll have to stick around and make it official."

My heart does a little flip. "Good. You're not going anywhere."

He sets his beer down on the porch floor and turns to me, one arm stretched along the back of the swing. "No, I'm not."

When he kisses me, it tastes like promises and possibility. This isn't the desperate passion of our first kiss or the tentative exploration of our second. This is something steadier, more certain. A foundation.

"Get a room!" Olivia's voice breaks the moment.

I pull back to see my friend standing at the bottom of the porch steps, grinning like she's caught us passing notes in class.

"We have a room," I call back. "Several, in fact. This whole house is full of them."

"And yet, here you are, scandalizing the neighborhood." She bounds up the steps, waving a folder. "I've got something."

Blaze shifts to make room for her on the swing, but she's too keyed up to sit.

"I think I've got something on that helicopter logo," she says, pulling a printout from her folder. "Remember how I said it looked familiar? I was right."

She hands me the paper. It’s a grainy enlarged photo of the logo from the helicopter. Not looking at the rest of it, I close the folder. I know Olivia and how she goes down the rabbit holes and doesn't stop until she has peeked in every dark corner.

"Olivia... maybe let it go. Right now, we need to focus on keeping the town strong."

"But don't you see? This could be important! What if--"

"What if it's nothing?" I interrupt gently. "What if it's just Ruby's private business? She hasn't told anyone for a reason. After everything, I think we need to respect that."

The thought of anyone digging too deeply into Ruby's affairs makes me nervous. She's protective of Orville, of her home. And now, by extension, of Blaze. The last thing any of them needs is scrutiny, especially after everything they've been through.

Olivia's enthusiasm deflates slightly. "I just thought with everything happening with the land developer, the road, and the festival..."

"I know," I say, reaching for her hand. "And I love your investigative spirit. But maybe this one time, let's focus on what we know is good. Orville's home, the town pulled together, and we saved the festival. We know Ruby. she isn't involved with the bad guys here."

She sighs dramatically. "Fine. But I'm keeping this file open."

"I’d expect nothing less." I squeeze her hand before letting go.

Blaze watches our exchange with quiet interest but doesn't comment. When Olivia finally leaves, promising to see us tonight at the potluck at the park, he turns to me.