Page 96 of Something’s Brewing

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I think I finally am.”

He got up and stood in front of her. “Come here.”

She stood and rested her head against his shoulder. “Turns out people here fight for each other,” she said. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

“You know,” he said after a minute, “for someone not running for mayor, you’re making a very convincing campaign speech.”

She laughed. “Don’t start.”

“No promises.”

She shook her head, smiling as she looked back toward the water.

Deer Creek Falls. The town she never planned to stay in. The place that somehow became hers anyway. For the first time in her life, Madison realized love and belonging weren’t things she had to earn. Sometimes they simply chose you.

EPILOGUE

Madison pushed open the brewery door with her shoulder, balancing a travel mug in one hand and her phone in the other.

“Garrett?” she called.

No answer. The place was usually buzzing by now—clatter from the kitchen and staff humming to tunes on the radio as they got ready to open.

Today . . . silence.

She took a few cautious steps forward. Then stopped.

The entire taproom had been transformed.

Soft golden candlelight flickered across the polished wood tables. Strings of fairy lights were draped from beam to beam, their glow reflected in the tall windows that overlooked the pond. Someone had pushed the tables aside, leaving an open space in the center of the room.

Then, music drifted through the air, a slow orchestral melody.

Her breath caught and her chest tightened as memories rushed in. The sweep of a ballroom, the weight of a stranger’s hand at her back, the feeling that something important had begun.

“Garrett?” she said again, softer now.

He stepped out from behind the bar, and her heart skipped.

He wasn’t in his usual worn jeans and brewery T-shirt. He wore dark slacks and a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled just enough to show forearms she knew very well.

Garrett swallowed hard before he spoke. For a man who could stand in front of investors, contractors, and an entire town council without breaking a sweat, his pulse now felt completely out of control.

Madison stood in front of him in worn shorts, her hair piled high on her head in a messy bun, clutching a travel mug. And she was still the most breathtaking woman he’d ever seen.

Her eyes were already shining.

He could see the moment she realized what was happening.

Her breath caught. Her fingers tightened around the cup. Then slowly—almost reverently—she set it aside like she needed both hands free for whatever came next.

God, he loved her.

“This song,” he began, his voice quieter than he intended, “is the first thing I remember about you.”

Her lips parted. A small, trembling smile touched them, the same smile he’d seen across a ballroom floor the night he’d met a stranger who somehow felt familiar.

“That night . . . I wasn’t looking for anything,” he continued. “I didn’t even want to be there. I was going through the motions. Doing what people expected.”