Page 30 of By Any Beans Necessary

They walked under the watchful gaze of the lamppost, its warm glow casting dancing shadows on the snow. The silence was broken only by the crunching of snow and their soft laughter, fueled by the magic of discovery.

Jeff stopped suddenly, his eyes wide with wonder. Michelle followed his gaze and gasped. There, right in front of them, was a majestic marble stag, its antlers adorned with ice crystals, its eyes filled with ancient wisdom. "Welcome," it seemed to say without any words.

The climax of their journey was Hogwarts’ Castle, stone battlements rising high, banners of the four houses fluttering in the gentle breeze.

"Always fancied myself a Gryffindor," Jeff admitted, puffing out his chest in jest.

"Really? I had you pegged for a Slytherin," Michelle teased, elbowing him gently.

"Ouch. That's a low blow," he said, feigning hurt, but the laughter in his eyes betrayed him.

"Only the bravest can admit where they truly belong," she replied, "Remember, it's our choices that show who we really are."

"Then I choose this," Jeff said, his voice lowering, his gaze locking onto hers. "Today, this moment, with you."

"Best choice you've ever made," Michelle whispered back.

Beyond the stone walls of Hogwarts, a hidden path wrapped in jasmine and ivy led them to a secret garden. Flickering fairy lights twinkled like distant stars above a quaint gazebo, nestled among clusters of wildflowers that spilled over the edges of their beds.

"Wow," Michelle breathed out, her hand clasping at Jeff's as they approached. The table under the gazebo was draped in a white linen cloth, fine china, and crystal glasses gleaming under the soft glow of hanging lanterns.

"Did you do all this?" she asked, her voice a mix of awe and curiosity. They moved closer, her fingers tracing the delicate patterns of the lace table runner.

"Guilty as charged," he replied with a grin. He pulled out a chair for her, hoping the gentlemanly gesture wrapped warmth around her heart.

"Sit," he urged, his eyes cradling hers.

She eased into the chair, the scent of rosemary and thyme from nearby planters floating around them. "It's beautiful."

"Only the best for you," Jeff said, pouring sparkling water into her glass. The bubbles danced upward, racing to escape.

"But how did you find this place?" she queried, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes fixed on him.

"Ah," Jeff started, serving her a delicate portion of caprese salad with a flourish. "I overheard Taylor talking about it at the book drive. She said it was her favorite spot in all of Texas."

Michelle nodded. "That makes sense. Taylor would love this place."

"Yep, so I called the next day and made the reservations."

"But that was way before the whole fiasco with Harold happened," Michelle pointed out.

"Well, when things went...bad for a while, I called and canceled. And when we were back on track, I called and made them again."

"Such care to keep it a secret," she chuckled, twirling her fork. "Didn't take you for the cloak and dagger type."

"Only when it comes to impressing a certain someone." His wink was playful, but sincerity anchored his tone.

"Mission accomplished," she replied, her laughter mingling with the quiet symphony of the garden's creatures.

As they chatted about their lives, the soft glow of fairy lights strung across the gazebo gave their meal an ethereal quality.

Michelle leaned back in her chair and smiled. "Jeff, this place...it's magical," she breathed out, her voice barely above a whisper. It was as if she were afraid to break the spell.

His eyes sparkled with delight, mirroring the twinkle of the lights above. "I thought you might like it," he said, his hand reaching across the table to briefly brush against hers.

She smiled, taking a bite from her fork, savoring the mix of flavors. "This chicken is perfectly cooked. And the herbs...they're grown here?"

"Yep. Farm to table, or garden to gazebo, I guess," he jested, cutting into his own dish with precision.

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