Page 44

Epilogue

Emma

Five Years Later

I love the view from my office.

From up here, I can see the entire café floor below, the heart of my empire.

Yes, empire .

I still smile when I think of that word. Grandpa Walt's prediction has come true in ways I never imagined.

Chapter & Grind has transformed from my little corner bookshop into something magnificent. Something beyond even my wildest dreams.

The original location now spans three storefronts in downtown Iron Ridge, with reading nooks tucked into every corner, a custom roasting room with glass walls so customers can watch the magic happen, and a mezzanine level filled with overstuffed armchairs and people lost in worlds between pages.

The scent of freshly ground beans still fills the air, mixing with the comforting smell of old books and warm pastries.

Some things never change, and I refuse to let them.

My gaze drifts to the wall of framed photographs charting our journey.

The ribbon-cutting at the original shop with Grandpa Walt beaming beside me. The Arena Experience Day that changed everything. The third location opening in Pinecrest. The fourth in Oakwood. The fifth in Riverdale.

And last year, the luxury flagship store in Aspen that has celebrities posting about my " Hat Trick " blend on social media.

Six locations. Six dreams built from one.

And through it all, there's been one constant.

My tummy flutters, looking across at Logan's smile in every photo, his arm around me, his belief in me unwavering.

Georgie knocks at the door and drops the quarterly reports on my desk with a dramatic flourish.

"Damn, Emma," she says, perching on the edge of my desk like she's still the college student who used to camp out by the window, not my Director of Operations. "These numbers are insane. The wholesale line is up thirty percent from last quarter."

I flip through the pages, pride warming my chest.

My signature coffee blends now sit on grocery shelves across three states, their forest green packaging instantly recognizable with the Chapter & Grind logo embossed in gold.

"The Idaho distributor wants to increase their order again," I note, scanning the report. "And look at this. The Icehawk Arena location broke its own sales record during playoffs."

"Speaking of breaking records," Georgie grins. "Your mother called. The special arrangements for the anniversary party are ready. She sounded... excited? Is that even allowed?"

I laugh, glancing at the gorgeous bouquet gracing my desk. Delicate white anemones and sprigs of rosemary arranged with coffee beans and sprays of baby's breath.

The card simply reads: For my darling dreamer. Love, Mom.

Five years ago, I would've checked for hidden criticism.

Now I just see love.

"Mom's finally living her best life," I say, touching a velvety petal. "Who knew Carter Family Flowers would become Iron Ridge's go-to florist?"

Yes, that's right.

My mother, who spent decades telling me to be practical, finally pursued her own dream three years ago. Now she supplies all five Chapter & Grind locations with weekly arrangements that make Instagram influencers swoon with the bold colors and unique arrangements.

And Clara's old Summit Café location?

It now houses Mom's flagship store, its windows filled with cascading greenery and rainbow displays of blooms that Clara would hardly recognize.

"Oh!" Georgie remembers, pulling a postcard from her bag. "This came for you."

The image shows London in springtime, Westminster Abbey framed by cherry blossoms. I flip it over to see Clara's familiar handwriting:

Emma, the teahouse is thriving! Hope you're still planning to visit in May. P.S. That footballer, or should I say, soccer player I mentioned? He proposed last week!

I tuck the card into my drawer, making a mental note to send her a congratulatory blend later today.

"I should get going," I say, checking my watch. "I promised Mom I'd help pick out the specialty arrangements for the anniversary celebration."

Georgie whisks me out the door, and soon, the bell above Carter Family Flowers chimes as I push open the door. The scent hits me immediately. Earthy, sweet, and fresh. Like spring captured in a bottle.

"Emma!"

Mom appears from behind a display of potted orchids, her once-perfect bob now styled in a more relaxed cut that frames her face.

She's wearing a linen apron over what would have once been her "casual gardening clothes" but now appears to be her everyday wear.

Pearls have been replaced by a simple pendant of pressed flowers in resin.

"These just came in," she says, gesturing to a workbench covered in blooms of every color. "I'm thinking these purple tulips with coffee-colored dahlias for the main pieces. What do you think?"

I run my fingers over the petals. "They're perfect."

"Melanie's Maddie is coming by later to help arrange them," Mom says, pride evident in her voice. "That girl has an eye for composition. And Ben's already asking if he can work at Chapter & Grind when he turns sixteen."

I laugh. "Following in his aunt's footsteps, huh?"

"Speaking of following footsteps," Mom says, her expression softening. "Your father and I stopped by to watch Grandpa Walt with the kids yesterday."

Grandpa Walt, now eighty-seven and moving slower but still sharp as a tack, runs the "Junior Barista" program at our arena location every Wednesday.

It's mostly him telling outrageous stories about "the old days" while children decorate cookies and pretend to brew coffee in play cups.

"Oh dear. Was he telling the bear story again?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Complete with sound effects," Mom confirms. "The children were enraptured. Just like they always are with Logan."

The mention of his name still makes my heart do that ridiculous flutter. Five years, and I'm still not immune.

"I should get going," I say, checking my watch. "Logan's team has their end-of-season celebration at the arena today."

Mom nods, but catches my arm gently before I can leave. "I'm proud of you, Emma. I should have said it more, sooner. But I am."

My throat tightens. "Thanks, Mom. I'm proud of you too."

The familiar bustle of Icehawk Arena greets me as I push through the doors.

The off-season has begun, but the place still hums with activity. Day camps, hockey clinics, and, most importantly, Logan's kids clinic that runs three days a week.

I slip into the stands, watching as tiny players in oversized gear wobble across the ice, each one trailing after Logan like ducklings following their mother.

At six-foot-five, he towers over them, yet somehow makes himself their size, crouching down to adjust a helmet strap, demonstrate a stick grip, praise a wobbly attempt at a goal.

It still gets me, seeing him like this.

The Iron Wall, the man who struck fear into opponents for over a decade, now radiating infinite patience as he guides a little girl who can barely stand on skates.

After retiring, Logan took exactly three months off before getting restless.

Now, between overseeing all construction and renovation for my expanding business and running his clinics, he's busier than ever—and happier than I've ever seen him.

He spots me in the stands and his whole face lights up, the same way it did five years ago, the same way it does every morning when we wake up together.

"Five minutes, guys!" he calls to the kids, skating over to where I'm sitting.

He leans across the boards, still slightly breathless, his cheeks flushed from exertion. "Hey, gorgeous."

I lean down for a kiss. "Hey yourself. How's my Hockey God?"

"Exhausted. You're early," he says, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Couldn't wait to see my favorite coach in action." I gesture to the ice where Blake is now helping the kids pack up their gear. "How's the team captain doing with his new 'elder statesman' role?"

Logan chuckles. "Still faster than half the rookies. He's threatening to retire every season, but we all know he's got at least three more years in him."

"Unlike you," I tease. "You couldn't even make it one day without finding a new purpose."

His expression softens. "Best decision I ever made. I'll be done soon, then I'm taking you straight home."

"Sounds good to me. Now get out there." I lean over the boards and smack his ass, the sound making my core squeeze.

He gives me a playful bite through the air and skates back out on the ice.

Our home sits on the edge of town, a renovated cabin-style house with huge windows that frame the mountains like living art. Logan did most of the work himself, turning what was once a simple structure into our perfect sanctuary.

Inside, it's all us.

Warm wood and soft textures, bookshelves overflowing with my collection, a coffee station that rivals professional setups, and tasteful displays of Logan's hockey memorabilia interspersed with framed photos of our travels.

I curl up on our porch swing, watching Logan at the grill, the mountains glowing gold in the setting sun behind him.

This is our rhythm. Our life.

Chaotic mornings at Chapter & Grind, Logan at the arena in the afternoons, evenings together, just us.

Rinse and repeat.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Did you book the flights?" Logan asks, flipping steaks on the grill.

"All set for next month," I confirm. "Two weeks in Finland. Two in France. Just like last year."

We've made it an annual pilgrimage, visiting his mother's village, walking those shores, keeping our promise to honor her memory.

Last year, we finally found the cottage where she was born, now inhabited by a kind elderly couple who invited us in for coffee and pulla bread when Logan explained our connection.

The steaks sizzle as he plates them, and I breathe in the scent of home here in Iron Ridge. Pine trees, charcoal, and the lingering coffee aroma that somehow follows me everywhere.

"So… I have news," I say casually, wrapping my arms around him from behind.

"Oh?" He turns in my embrace, eyebrows raised.

"The Seattle location is confirmed. We sign papers next week."

"Seattle, huh?" His face breaks into a grin that could mean many things given what that city nearly did to this… to us. "That's amazing, Em. Number seven?"

"Yep. But that's not all."

I take his hand, guiding it to rest on my stomach, watching as understanding dawns in those ocean-blue eyes. I let a small smile creep onto my face, waiting… just waiting for the moment it clicks into place.

"Emma..." his voice cracks as he shifts closer on his seat, eyes growing wide. "Are you sure?"

I nod, tears springing to my eyes. "Twelve weeks. I wanted to be certain before I told you."

His arms wrap around me, lifting me clear off the ground in a gentle bear hug. When he sets me down, his eyes are suspiciously bright.

"A baby," he whispers, like he's testing how the word feels. "We're having a baby?"

"We're having a baby," I confirm, laughing through my tears.

"OH MY GOD! What about names?" he asks, voice rising with excitement.

"I was thinking maybe something Finnish," I suggest. "To honor your mom."

He presses a kiss to my temple. "I like that."

As dusk settles over Iron Ridge, I look at the town spread out below us. The twinkling lights, the arena dome in the distance, the corner where Chapter & Grind first began.

Once, I was just a girl with coffee stains on her apron and dreams too big for everyone but me.

Now I'm a woman with an empire, a husband who chose me over everything, and a future growing inside me.

Grandpa Walt was right all along. The best dreams aren't the ones you chase alone.

They're the ones you build together.