I look out the kitchen window, seeing Owen pull in the driveway. I’m able to sense him, as weird as that sounds. We can’t really explain it, other than saying it’s a twin thing. He comes into the house, already smiling. He didn’t know I was asking Danielle to marry me, but he’s able to sense it too.
“Glad you finally manned up,” Owen says, pulling me into a hug.
“Me too,” Danielle laughs, and I go back to her, wrapping her in my embrace. “Though if anything was worth waiting for, this was it.”EpilogueDanielleAbout a year later…“I finalized the menu for the bakery,” I tell Logan, watching him put another log on the fire. He comes back to the couch, picking up the papers from the coffee table, and sits next to me.
“Are you warm enough?” he asks, reaching for another blanket.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, though I know he’s going to keep pampering me like crazy. He’s been at it all week, and I don’t think he’s going to stop any time soon. “The temperature did plummet fast today.”
“Yeah. But it’s supposed to warm back up soon.”
“I’d like that.”
“Gotta love the spring weather in the Midwest. It was hot two days ago and back down to freezing today.” Logan pulls my legs into his lap and starts rubbing my feet. I lean back, closing my eyes. “That feels good.”
We got married in October, much to my own mother’s dismay. It wasn’t enough time to plan a big fancy wedding, but that’s not what we wanted anyway. Just a week or so after Logan proposed, we started looking around for places to have the wedding. We joked about having our reception in an old barn, back when we were pretending to be engaged. After I had a real ring on my finger, it started to sound like what we actually wanted.
And then it just so happened that the newly restored venue in a century-old barn had a cancelation, and we were able to snag a date the first weekend in October. The weather was perfect; bright, sunny, and a crisp sixty-five degrees.
“Are you going into work tonight?” he asks, looking over the menu.
“I should if we want to make sure we’re ready to open next week.”
“You’ll be ready.” He moves his hands up my leg, and I know it won’t be long until those fingers are inching toward my core. Which is fine by me. I’ve had the sex drive of a teenage boy lately, and Logan is very eager to please me. “Don’t wear yourself out.”
“I’m fine,” I tell him. I just got over a nasty cold, and he’s been babying me like crazy. “We’re fine.” I rest my hand on my stomach, hoping to feel our baby kick again. I felt her for the first time just yesterday, and I can’t even describe how incredible that feeling is, and how excited I am for Logan to be able to feel her too. I’m only seventeen weeks along and am just now starting to show.
We haven’t picked a name yet, but our little girl will be the fourth granddaughter in the Dawson family. Mrs. Dawson jokes that it’s making up for the years when it was all boys, though now Jackson is outnumbered. He loves his baby sister dearly and is a good big brother.
“This looks good.” Logan glances at the menu again before lying down with me on the couch.
“I’m nervous.”
“You’re going to blow everyone away.”
“I hope so. At least it’s already an established bakery. Fingers crossed I make it better and not worse.”
“You will,” he says, and I know he fully believes it. A few months ago, Mia Harris, an elderly woman who’s owned a bakery on the main street in Eastwood’s downtown for years, decided to put the store up for sale. It’s in the building right next to the spot my grandma wanted to open her own shop.
It’s a bit of a risk, but Logan and I decided to buy it. I might stick one of my pies on the counter for people to sample, but I’m more interested in the business side of it than the actual baking side. I spent the last few months coming up with a solid business plan and already have a few contracts lined up with other venues in the area.