Our ride into town is accompanied by a playlist that proves Garrett is the strangest man I’ve ever met.

“Who puts John Denver’s ‘Country Roads’ and L7’s ‘Shitlist’ on the same playlist?” I ask with a mock glare in his direction. “Seriously? What kind of weirdo decides that’s how he wants to lay down a jam?”

Garrett smiles, as utterly unruffled by criticism—true or feigned—as ever. “You’re looking at him, sweetheart. I have eclectic tastes in music and women.”

“Ha, ha,” I say, fighting a real laugh. “I’m not nearly that weird.”

“This from the woman who has to shower for exactly fifteen minutes before she gets dressed—not one minute more or one minute less—and who gets anxious if you try to touch her while she’s eating?”

I pop my last bite of egg sandwich into my mouth and point a warning finger at his hand as he reaches for my knee. “Don’t even think about it.”

He grins. “And how about library books? You still think they carry the plague?”

“Library books are gross,” I say, covering my mouth with one hand as I finish chewing. “That’s a fact. If you’d grown up reading books with the pages stuck together with gross bodily fluids, you would know that.”

He arches a brow. “Maybe you should have checked out less interesting books.”

“Yeah, well, what would have been the fun in that? Dirty books are the best books.” I smirk as I park in front of the new community center, where Garrett’s minions have been holding jobs-training classes. But the playful vibe in the car vanishes when I see the name spelled out in gold letters above the wooden archway leading into the building.

The Beauregard “Bo” Fleming Memorial Community Center.

“Oh my God.” My hand flies to cover my mouth again as my throat goes tight. “Oh, Garrett. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he says. “I hope it’s a good one.”

“It’s…” I shake my head, fighting the tears pressing at the backs of my eyes. “I’ve always wanted to do something for him, but I could never decide what. I didn’t have enough money for a scholarship, and I was afraid I would kill a plant or a tree. And I live in an apartment, so I would have had to get permission from the landlord to plant it, and then dig it up again when I moved. Assuming I hadn’t killed it by then.” I sniff and swipe at the tears flowing down my cheeks. “Anyway. Yeah. It’s perfect. Something good with a good man’s name on it. Thank you. So much.”

Garrett squeezes my thigh. “Please don’t thank me. It was my pleasure. And I want you to know there’s no quid pro quo at work here. If you decide you can’t justify giving us another shot, everything stays. The community center and the job training and everything else.”

I shake my head as I smear tears from my jaw into my hair in a futile attempt to pull myself together. “But why, Garrett? Why all this? You could have just called. Or written an email.”

“You deserve better than a call or an email. And I came to a realization when things were really bad last year, Kitten.”

“What’s that?” I sink lower in my seat as two men bundled in thick winter coats shuffle by on the sidewalk, heading up the freshly shoveled steps into the center.

They look vaguely familiar, and right now I can’t deal with small talk or trying to explain why I’m a crying, snotty mess.

“I can’t fix everything that’s wrong with the world,” Garrett says, producing a handkerchief from his coat pocket and pressing it gently into my hand, proving he is still the completely prepared man I fell in love with years ago. “I can’t even fix half of it. But I can make life better for the people I care about. I knew Harry held a lot of dark memories for you. I hoped that honoring Bo and easing some of the suffering here might help you put some of the things that haunt you to rest…”

I nod as I finish mopping up my face. “It does.”

“Good. That’s all I want. To make your life better.” His lips curve up on one side. “Though, I’m selfishly hoping you’ll decide I make your life better, too. And that I might be worth keeping around for a little while.”

I press my lips together as I shake my head, not trusting my voice.

“No?” Pain flashes behind his eyes before he tucks his chin to his chest. “All right. I understand. I can’t pretend to be happy, but I—”

“No,” I croak. “I don’t mean ‘no.’ I mean, I can’t…” I swallow hard as I gesture to the world outside the car. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe it’s real. It feels like a dream. Or a movie. Something that’s happening to someone else. Because things like this don’t happen to people like me.”

He frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean? People like you? You mean beautiful, kind, intelligent—”

“No. I don’t mean that.” I shake my head again, squeezing my eyes closed as I struggle to think clearly. “I mean people with my history. My past. I’ve had to fight for everything I’ve ever had, Garrett. Nothing falls in my lap. Nothing. Ever. I’m not a happy-ending girl. I’m a fighter who gets by the best she can, bumping along from one shitty experience to the next.”

“This isn’t falling in your lap,” he says, frown deepening as he captures my hand, holding it tight. “This is something I want to do, something I need to do. Losing Alyssa made me realize I need to do good things for the people I care about, and there is no one on earth I want to do good things for more than you, Dakota Joy Fleming. Don’t you know you’re the best thing that ever happened to me?”

“You’re crazy.” I swipe at my leaking nose with Garrett’s perfect hankie, fighting not to start bawling all over again.

His other hand cups my cheek. “No, I just love you, dummy.”

“Don’t call me a dummy,” I whisper, too overwhelmed to say anything else.

“How about I call you mine, instead?” The hope in his eyes shoots an arrow straight into my heart. “Would you at least think about that for me? Because I honestly don’t see how I’m going to make it much longer without you.”

My heart overflows and my eyes follow, sending fresh tears streaming through my lashes. “Shit, Garrett. Now I’m going to ugly cry. You’re making me ugly cry.”

“You’re beautiful. You’re always beautiful to me.” He kisses my forehead and then my cheek, and pretty soon his lips find mine and we end up making out in the car for a long, long time.

Probably at least ten minutes too long for a small town filled with people who are way nosier than your average city-dweller. The knock on the window really shouldn’t come as a shock, but it does.

I’m so surprised that I yip and jump in my seat, knocking my nose into Garrett’s with enough force that pain blossoms across the bridge.

“Ouch.” I laugh nervously as I glance over my shoulder to see Dot waving at me through the window with a big smile on her face.

“Did you see it?” she shouts as she motions toward the community center, clearly overestimating the soundproofness of my car windows. “It’s Bo’s! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you the other day, darlin’. And who is this? Your boyfriend? Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend with you? I wouldn’t have felt nearly as terrible about you running off by yourself on Christmas Eve.”

I lift a hand, but before I can open the door or get a word in edgewise, Dot barrels on with a big grin and a bigger wave for Garrett.

“So good to meet you, hon!” She laughs as her cheeks flush pink. “Our Dakota always was the prettiest girl in town. Not surprised she’s got such a handsome man-panion.”

“Man-panion, I like it,” Garrett says, before adding in a voice for my ears only, “Assuming I don’t have to tell Dot that we’re just old friends.”

“We’re never going to be just friends, old or otherwise,” I murmur as I turn his way. “I want to jump your bones too much. And I like you. A lot. And not in a just-friendly kind of way.”

He holds my gaze for a beat before he smiles. “Good. I’ll take that, and I’ll keep telling you I love you until you tell me to stop.” He kisses my cheek before stepping out of the car and circling around to introduce himself to Dot, leaving me with a goofy grin on my face I can’t hide.

So I don’t even try.

---

We spend the rest of the day cruising around town, seeing all the good things Garrett has done for people who so desperately needed his help, and by the end of the day, I feel less worried than I have in a long time.

I thought I’d put Harry and its troubles behind me a long time ago, but as Garrett and I sit down to dinner at the bed and breakfast, surrounded by couples who can afford a meal out together for the first time in years, I finally feel truly at peace with the past. These people are my people, and they always will be, no matter how far I run or how many miles stretch out between us. I told myself I was okay with Harry circling the drain, but that was only because I couldn’t see how it could ever get better.

But Garrett did.

And I love him for it, though I don’t tell him so that night.

Or the next. Or even on New Year’s Eve, when he surprises me with a romantic evening spent christening the hotel’s newly completed movie theater with a midnight showing of The Wizard of Oz, my absolute favorite movie of all time.

---

I don’t tell him until much later, after spring has sprung and he’s settled into his new apartment in D.C., when I’m absolutely sure that nothing can shake us. And I don’t say “yes” until the following December twenty-third, at a simple ceremony attended by friends who are as close as family, in the penthouse where we spent the hottest Christmas Eve in memory.

As I promise to love and cherish him until death do us part, I can’t help thinking death will have to work pretty hard to destroy this perfect thing we’ve forged.

“Happy?” Garrett hugs me close as we separate from our first kiss as man and wife and our friends break into applause.

“The happiest,” I confirm, taking his hand to make the rounds among our guests, thanking everyone for coming before inviting them into the kitchen for cake.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Garrett asks his friend Tennyson, who seems determined to leave the party early. “I can get you a room. We’re not full until tomorrow night.”

“Thank you, but I have to run,” Ten says, his blue eyes brighter than I remember them. “I’ve got to work tomorrow.”

“You look happier about work than I usually am,” I say with a laugh. “And I love my job.”

“I love mine, too,” Ten says, his gaze lifting guiltily to the ceiling. “But I have other business tomorrow night.”

“Personal business?” Garrett asks at the same time I ask, “Girl business?”

We both laugh and Ten, who is usually the picture of tall, dark, and serious, smiles as he says, “Maybe. I hope so anyway. We’ll see if the Fates are with me.”

“I think they will be.” I hold Garrett’s hand a little tighter. “Christmas is a good time to fall in love, I hear.”

Garrett squeezes my fingers. “I hear that, too. Good luck, man. I highly recommend love. It’s made me ridiculously happy.”

Ten’s smile widens. “It has. And I’m happy for you. No one deserves it more than you and your lovely bride.”

Garrett glances my way, his eyes softening with the love I still can’t believe belongs to me every bit as much as I belong to him.

But it does, and I do, a fact he reminds me of late into our wedding night and every night after.

---