Page 104 of My Grumpy Fire Chief Next Door
“I went to see Josie,” he says. “I told her about you. About how you've changed me.”
He swallows hard. “Then Elaine told me something her mother used to say. That the right person doesn’t replace the past—they help you carry it.”
He finds my hand, threads our fingers.
“And the truth is, I did know,” he says. “From the moment I saw you with that oversized bag, standing in front of the cottage, trying to figure out who you were… my heart was already gone.”
Tears slip down my cheeks. I let them.
“So you asked if I hated you?” His voice pierces. “No, Katie. I couldn’t. Because you are my heart. And I don’t think there’s a single part of me left that doesn’t belong to you.
I didn’t fall for the woman you used to be. I fell for the way it felt to love you. Because loving you feels like coming home, and I'm tired of standing outside the door."
I close the distance. My hands slide up his chest.
He holds me like he's been waiting to do so for weeks.
“I’m here,” he breathes. “I’m right here.”
His thumb wipes away a tear. I lean into him.
His fingers trace down my cheek, over my jaw. I tremble.
He looks at my lips. We breathe in sync.
His lips brush mine with care that cracks me wide open. When he kisses me, it's the kind of kiss that saysI’m yours. No doubts. No distance. Not anymore.
He doesn't kiss me like I'm broken. He kisses me like he's stitching all the broken pieces back together, with his mouth, with his hands, with his heart.
I kiss him back, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens—soft, searching, hopeful.
His hands find my waist, grounding me.
Our tears mix between kisses.
His tongue brushes mine—gentle, sure. My pulse races.
We’re not rushing. We’re arriving.
I pull back, resting my forehead against his. We breathe.
“You’re mine, Katie,” he whispers. “Always. I don’t care about the past. Only about us. Right here. Right now.”
And that… that is everything. The weight of it, the promise in it. It makes me feel whole in a way I never thought I could again.
“I spent years thinking I didn’t deserve this. That love like this wasn’t meant for me. But you—you made me want to fight for it."
“I’m yours,” I breathe. “I’ve always been yours.”
And I know it’s real. Because in his arms, I finally feel whole.
Outside, the cottage still smolders under the stars. But in here, with him, I’ve finally found home.
Chapter twenty-eight
Noah
My hands won’t stop shaking.
