Page 20 of Forever In Willow Creek

“A home.”

He let the word hang in the air between them.

“And I want you in it.”

Her throat tightened. Not from fear. Not from doubt. But from the overwhelming sense of rightness.

“I’m in,” she said, voice steady.

The following weekend, they stood beneath a snow-dusted arbor at the Winter Market, handing out cider and laughing as Granny Mae heckled every couple within earshot. Sarah had made Zoe a wreath crown. Luke wore a pine-scented flannel. Zoe swore she’d accidentally set on fire if he didn’t retire it soon.

They weren’t perfect.

They had bills and work and the occasional misunderstanding about laundry or forgotten dinner plans.

But they had each other.

They had morning walks. Shared coffee. Grease-streaked kisses in the garage and evenings tangled together on the cottage porch swing. They had a love that wasn’t flashy—but it was honest. Earned.

As the snow began to fall and the last of the vendors packed up their booths, Luke pulled Zoe close.

“This still feel like the wrong life?” he whispered.

She smiled up at him, eyes bright with all the things she never had to chase anymore.

“No,” she said. “This feels like forever.”

And in Willow Creek, forever didn’t have to be big.

It just had to betrue.

Epilogue

One Year Later The house sat on a quiet hill at the edge of Willow Creek, where the woods began to thicken, and the sunsets came in slow and golden. It wasn’t big. Just two bedrooms, wide windows, and the porch Zoe had once only dreamed of, now real, now home.

Zoe stood barefoot in the kitchen, her hair tied up in a messy bun, flour dusting the edge of her sleeve. A pie cooled on the counter beside her, and the smell of cinnamon and apples filled the warm, bright space. Outside, wind chimes played a lazy song in the breeze.

Life wasn’t slower, it was justquieternow. And Zoe had learned to love the quiet.

From the back porch, she could hear the soft rumble of Luke’s voice as he worked on a client’s truck in the garage out back. The radio played something old and country, and every now and then, she’d catch him singing under his breath—off-key and endearing.

She checked the time. Penny and Granny Mae were due in twenty minutes for their weekly Sunday lunch. Sarah would bring dessert even though Zoe had insisted they didn’t need more than one pie. That argument had never gone her way.

She set the table just as Luke stepped in, wiping his hands on a towel. His hair was windswept, and his cheeks were kissed pink from the cold. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled the side of her neck.

“Smells like you’re trying to make me fall in love with you again.”

Zoe leaned into him. “Just trying to keep you from escaping to the shop when company shows up.”

He chuckled, warm and close. “Too late. I’m in for life.”

They stayed like that for a beat longer—no rush, no noise, no tension. Just skin against skin and the soft sound of wind outside.

“Remember when you said you were only staying for a few days?” Luke asked, teasing.

“I also said I didn’t like small towns,” she replied, smiling.

“And mechanics.”

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