Page 22 of The Blacksmith's Heart
“And me?” I press, my voice playful but my chest tightening with something deeper.
He stops abruptly, turning to face me. The look in his eyes steals the air from my lungs. “You’re not an idiot, Callie. You’re my everything.”
The words hang between us, heavy and raw. He steps closer, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. “You were my first love, you know.”
I blink, caught off guard. “Liam?—”
“You were,” he says, his voice unwavering. “Even when we were kids, I knew you were different. Special. And then you left, and I thought I’d never see you again. But you came back. That makes you my first love.”
I swallow hard, my throat thick with emotion.
“And you’re my last,” I whisper, the truth of it settling into my bones.
He smiles then, a rare, breathtaking thing, and leans down to press his lips to mine. The kiss is slow, deliberate, filled with all the promises we’ve yet to say out loud.
“You’re impossible,” I murmur, but my smile gives me away.
“And you love me for it.”
“I do,” I say, my voice firm. “I really do.”
The stars bear witness as he pulls me close, his arms a fortress, his love unbreakable. Together, we make our way home, ready to face whatever comes next—so long as we face it together.
Epilogue
Liam–three months later
The Devil’s Brew is alive tonight. The laughter and clinking glasses bounce off the timber walls, the warm hum of chatter filling the air. Strings of white lights dangle from the ceiling beams, casting a soft glow over the crowd. It’s not much by big-city standards, but here in Devil’s Peak, it feels perfect. Intimate, real—just like us.
I stand near the makeshift stage, one hand resting on Callie’s lower back as I scan the room. The bar is packed with friends and neighbors, most of whom have known us since we were kids and now they’ve attended our wedding.
I catch Zane Warner’s eye across the room, and he raises his beer in a silent toast before sauntering toward the mic at the front of the crowd.
“This is going to be trouble,” I mutter, leaning down so only Callie can hear.
She looks up at me, her wide grin enough to undo me. “You’re just mad because Zane has stories. Embarrassing ones.”
“About you, maybe,” I counter, my lips twitching. “I was a saint.”
Callie snorts, the sound pure and joyful. “Sure you were.”
Zane taps the mic, the feedback squealing for a second before he clears his throat. “All right, everyone. Settle down. This won’t take long—I know y’all want to get back to the dance floor and that open bar.”
The crowd laughs, a few hoots and hollers echoing from the back. Callie shifts beside me, her shoulder brushing mine. Even in her simple lace dress, barefoot like she insisted, she’s the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.
Zane’s voice pulls me back. “Now, I’ve known Liam and Callie since we were all kids. And let me tell you, if you’d asked me back then who would end up together, I wouldn’t have said these two.”
A ripple of laughter moves through the crowd. I glare at Zane, but he just grins. Callie nudges me with her elbow, trying to hide her giggle.
“But,” Zane continues, “life has a funny way of proving us wrong. Because looking at them now, I can’t imagine a better match. Callie, you’ve got a way of turning the grumpiest blacksmith in the world into an actual human being. And Liam, well…” He smirks, dragging out the pause. “You’ve got yourself a woman who’s tougher than you and prettier too. Don’t screw it up.”
The crowd roars with laughter, and even I can’t fight the smile tugging at my lips. Zane raises his beer again. “To Liam and Callie—a love forged in fire, just like the man’s metal. And to the rest of us poor souls still single in Devil’s Peak—watch your backs. There’s something in the water around here, and it’s making even the most stubborn bachelors fall.”
The toast ends with cheers and clinking glasses. I glance at Callie, her cheeks flushed from laughter and the heat of the room. She tilts her head, her eyes sparkling. “Not bad, huh?”
“Better than I expected,” I admit, pulling her closer. “But don’t let it go to Zane’s head.”
The band strikes up a slow country tune, one of those songs you hear on late-night radio drives, all steel guitar and soft harmonies. The crowd parts as the lead singer nods toward us. “Liam and Callie, your first dance.”
