I’d cut the ribbon over the Fourth of July weekend, and business had boomed from the start. Betty’s apple pie was a huge draw, of course, but with Mr. Frankel’s blessing, I’d tweaked things here and there to make it my own. After tasting it, he told me Betty would have been proud. I also served all kinds of cakes and pastries, strata and quiche, rolls and doughnuts, muffins and scones, along with coffee, tea, fresh lemonade, and mimosas on weekends.

Frannie and her family had come down for the ceremony, pushing their new babies in a double stroller—twin girls they’d named Audrey and Emmeline. It meant everything to me to have her there, since she’d been so supportive of me throughout the previous year.

As promised, I’d stayed on at Coffee Darling throughout her entire pregnancy, taking over full-time while she was out on maternity leave. It hadn’t been easy, because at the same time, I’d been in the process of buying the old Main Street Bakery in Bellamy Creek, lining up the financing, designing and overseeing its renovations, and planning for a summer opening.

It was exhausting—but Griffin had been my rock. We dated long-distance all through the fall and winter, trying never to go longer than a week without seeing each other, although it hadn’t been easy. The drives were rough, especially in bad weather, and Griffin always insisted on being the one to trek through the snow. He’d had to hire another mechanic to cover Saturdays so he could spend them with me.

But he never once complained. He knew how important it was to me to establish myself independently, to work for myself, support myself, feel steady on my own two feet. He understood me, and I fell more in love with him for it every day.

By springtime, we knew we couldn’t be apart any longer. After talking it over with him and asking Frannie’s advice, I made the decision to approach the older couple who owned the Main Street Bakery and offer to buy them out. They were thrilled with the idea, since they’d been wanting to retire to Florida for years and just needed the push to do it.

I’d moved in with Griffin in May, and I’d never been happier. Glancing over at him as we drove to the shop, I felt a rush of affection and gratitude. I reached out and took his hand.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing. I’m just in love with you.”

He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. “I love you too.”

“You must, since you agreed to this photo shoot. I know you hate being the center of attention.”

“Well, you said it would be good for business. After what you did for mine, how could I refuse?”

I smiled. Griffin had invested the loan Mr. Frankel had helped him get in tools, training, advertising, and more help at the garage, and it had paid off. Andy had the social media accounts up and running, and Darlene picked up baked goods from me every morning to serve in the lobby. Swifty Auto was still the bane of his existence, but it wasn’t the threat it had been before.

Life was good.

For now, we were still living above the garage, although we sometimes talked about the day when we’d be able to afford a house. Griffin wanted some land, I wanted a little more kitchen space, and both of us wanted a family, but we weren’t in any rush (much to Darlene’s dismay).

We’d learned some things from each other over the last year. I’d learned not to ask so many questions and let things unfold a little more naturally, and Griffin had learned to ease up on his need for control and to trust his feelings.

“Looks like the photographer is there already,” I said as we pulled up in front of my bakery. As always, I had to pinch myself when I saw its black-and-white striped awning, the elegant script on the valance, the polished wood of the front door, the two little café tables in matching windows on either side of the entrance.

Inside, the kitchen was full of light, and every morning I woke up excited to put on the coffee, get the ovens going, and greet smiling customers who left their homes to come taste what I created. It meant everything to me.

It was hard to believe it was really mine—any of it, the shop, the man beside me every night, the love we shared, the life ahead, this place I called home, this hope in my heart.

It was better than a fairy tale.

“So you think we got the perfect shot?” I asked as Griffin pulled away from the shop.

“Considering that she took at least a hundred pictures, I hope so. We can’t be that un-photogenic. Well, you can’t.”

I took his hand. “That was fun, wasn’t it? I hope we get on the front page.”

“Everyone will think we’re married again.”

“Oh my God, remember that?” I laughed, recalling the way the rumor had spread. “As if that could have actually happened.”

“People like a good story.”

“Yes, they do. Hey, where are we going?” I asked when he drove past the garage without stopping.

“I thought maybe we’d take a drive.”

“Dressed like this?” I looked down at my gown.

He shrugged and gave me a little sideways grin. “I have a surprise for you.”

I gasped. “I love surprises!”

“I know.”

“Can I try to guess what it is?”

He laughed and shook his head. “If you want to.”

Craning my neck to look out the windows on all sides, I tried to figure out what direction we were headed in. “Are we going to your mom’s house for dinner?”

Griffin grunted. “Do you know me at all?”

I giggled as he got on the highway out of town. “Hmmm. The pond?”

We sometimes took a picnic over to the pond for a date night, just like we had the first week I was here. Those evenings lying in the back of his ’55 Chevy under the stars were better than any I had ever spent dancing with millionaires in hotel ballrooms.

“Nope,” he said.

“Hmmm.” I tapped a finger on my chin, confused when he exited the highway, looped around, and got on again going the opposite direction. “Did you miss your turn or something?”

“Did you know,” he said, “that tonight marks exactly one year since you blew that tire on Main Street?”

I gasped. “Does it really? One year to the day?”

“I checked the original invoice.”

“You still have the original invoice?” My voice was high-pitched with excitement.

“Of course I do.”

“I don’t even think I ever saw it because you wouldn’t let me pay for the repairs.”

“I didn’t want your money,” he said, pulling onto the highway shoulder. “I wanted something more.”

My heart was pounding hard as he shut off the engine. “Griffin, what is this?”

“Stay there.” He jumped out of the driver’s side and came around to me, pulling the door open and lifting me down, just like he had that first night. But this time, he kept his hands on my waist. “I didn’t know it then—in fact, I would have argued with anyone who tried to tell me—but I wanted you to change my life. We joke a lot about me rescuing you that night, but now I see it was the other way around.”

I smiled up at him. “But I was the one with nowhere to go.”

“You did have somewhere to go. But you followed your heart instead.”