Page 9 of Forever In Willow Creek

The Fall Festival hit Willow Creek like a warm tide—slow, golden, and full of life.

The square was transformed. String lights zigzagged overhead, casting a soft amber glow over hay bales, vendor booths, and picnic tables laden with homemade pies and apple cider.

Children ran wild with caramel-sticky fingers.

Laughter and music filled the air, blending into a kind of magic Zoe had never quite believed in until now.

She stood near the edge of the crowd, her boots dusted with hay, her scarf loosely wrapped around her neck. Sarah had convinced her to wear one of her own handmade dresses—a navy blue wrap that cinched at the waist and made Zoe feel more like herself than any of the power suits ever had.

Across the square, she spotted Luke by the cider stand, deep in conversation with one of the local farmers. He wore a dark button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows, jeans that fit just right, and a crooked smile that made her stomach flip even after days of pretending she was immune.

He saw her. The way he looked at her then—slow, deliberate, like he’d been waiting all night for the chance—sent a hum through her chest.

Luke made his way over, stopping just short of touching her. “You clean up well.”

Zoe arched a brow. “This from the man who wore a flannel shirt to a community potluck.”

He grinned. “Flannel’s formal here.”

She laughed, and he offered her his hand, palm open.

“Come on. I owe you a dance.”

Zoe hesitated, glancing toward the gathering of couples spinning lazily to the music drifting from the gazebo stage. “I don’t know if I remember how.”

“It’s like riding a bike,” he said. “Only with better music.”

She slid her hand into his.

The moment they stepped onto the grass dance floor, time seemed to slow. The music shifted to a gentle country ballad, low and steady, full of longing and promise. Luke pulled her in with practiced ease, one hand resting at her waist, the other holding hers just enough to anchor her.

Zoe rested her free hand on his shoulder, her body tensing instinctively—until he leaned in, voice low near her ear.

“Relax,” he murmured. “Just follow my lead.”

And somehow, she did.

The world faded as they moved together, a slow sway that felt like something more than a dance. It felt like surrender. Like trust.

Zoe closed her eyes and let her body find the rhythm. Luke’s hand tightened gently at her waist, guiding her with quiet confidence. She felt his breath near her temple, the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.

When she finally looked up at him, he was already watching her.

“I’ve been falling for you since you showed up with grease on your cheek,” he said, his tone raw and honest.

Zoe blinked. “You mean when I yelled at you about my car battery?”

“Exactly,” he said with a chuckle. “I thought, there she is. Trouble in boots. ”

She laughed, but there were tears threatening behind it.

“I didn’t come here looking for any of this,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“I was so sure I didn’t need anyone.”

“I know that too.”

Luke’s hand slid up to the back of her neck, thumb brushing her jaw.

“But I do,” she said quietly. “I need this . You.”

His eyes searched hers, like he was making sure it was real—like he wanted to memorize the moment before it disappeared.

Then he kissed her.

It wasn’t rushed or hesitant. It was a kiss that spoke of every quiet conversation, every look that had lingered too long, every unspoken truth. His mouth was warm and patient, coaxing rather than claiming. And when Zoe kissed him back, it was with everything she hadn’t known she was holding.

The music continued around them, but they didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just held each other in the soft, golden light, the town fading away behind the pounding of their hearts.

When they finally pulled apart, Luke rested his forehead against hers.

“You’re not going anywhere, are you?” he asked.

Zoe shook her head, breath catching. “Not tonight.”