Page 12 of His Big Holiday Firefighter (Bigger Is Best #2)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The impatient whispers of the crowd filled the space as I stood at our station, Noah’s hand warm and steady in mine. I watched as the judges conferred and returned to the front of the room.

My grandmother had wise advice for nearly every occasion. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear her voice: “Patience, little dumpling. The best things are worth waiting for.”

Chef Liu caught my eye and gave me the smallest of nods—the same gesture she’d used years ago when I’d finally mastered a recipe. But this time, I saw something else in her expression: recognition of a different kind of mastery, one that couldn’t be measured in precise grams or exact temperatures.

“Before we announce the winners,” Mayor Thompson began, “I’d like to thank everyone who took part in this year’s milestone competition. The spirit of community and tradition that fills this room is what makes Pine Ridge special.”

Noah squeezed my hand gently. In that simple touch was everything we’d learned about tradition over the last few days—not just following old recipes, but creating new ones.

Blending the past and the future into something uniquely our own.

Just like we had with Nai Nai’s recipes.

Just like we hoped to do with the bakery—and with our lives.

“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for.” Mayor Thompson opened the envelope with dramatic flair. “This year’s Pine Ridge Christmas Cookie Competition winners are...”

The pause stretched out for maximum anticipation.

“James Lee and Noah Sullivan!”

The explosion of cheers and applause seemed distant compared to the way Noah turned to me, his eyes bright with joy and something deeper that made my heart feel too big for my chest. Before I could speak, Noah was kissing me right there in front of everyone.

The cheers grew louder, punctuated by Mrs. Henderson’s distinctive whistle and what sounded suspiciously like Chef Liu’s elegant applause.

“I have a confession,” Noah said when we finally broke apart, the crowd still celebrating around us. His hands framed my face with familiar gentleness. “I applied for the Seattle Fire Department’s training program.”

My heart stuttered. “What?”

“Not to leave,” Noah added quickly. “They have an advanced rescue certification course I’ve always wanted to take.

A few months of training, then back here to implement new programs. If.

..” He hesitated, and I saw that same vulnerable look he’d worn when sharing his first attempts at Nai Nai’s recipes. “If you’ll wait for me?”

“As if you even have to ask.”

“This is going to be so great. When I’m in Seattle, I can help you pack up your apartment. You can move in with me here. My place isn’t huge, but I don’t mind being cozy if you don’t.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Woah, slow down, big guy! Let’s finish celebrating this moment first, and then we can plan the rest of our lives together.”

We accepted our blue ribbon, and the celebration moved to the bakery, where Noah and I were shocked to discover that it had been decked out for the occasion.

Sarah, possibly the world’s most thorough and persistent real estate agent, stood proudly as we took in all she’d accomplished while we were at the contest. “I had a feeling about you two. I hope you like it.”

The front of the shop glowed with new life. The cafe tables were topped with fresh flower centerpieces, and strings of lights twinkled in the windows. I was delighted. The bakery hadn’t looked this good in a long time. “You did all this?”

“I can’t take all the credit.” She gestured to where several of Noah’s friends from the fire station stood. “That motley crew over there really came through in a pinch.”

Noah thanked them. “You guys are the best.”

“I hope everyone is hungry,” Mayor Thompson said, entering along with the other judges, setting down several trays piled high with the freshly baked cookies from the contest.

As our friends and neighbors packed the warm room, sampling our creations and sharing stories, I watched Noah move through the crowd. He belonged here, among these people who had become family to us both, his laugh mixing with the holiday music and cheerful conversations.

“Everyone!” Noah said, gathering the crowd’s attention.

“Thank you for being here to help us celebrate our win. It means a lot. It was all to honor James’s grandmother.

” He glanced at me. “And I’d also like to mention that…

well, it’s not really my news to share. James, do you want to tell them the good news? ”

I took a breath, my gaze sweeping over the happy faces filling the bakery. My bakery. “I’ve decided that all this means too much to let go of. In the new year, Lee’s Family Bakery will reopen its doors. We’re back in business.”

Everyone cheered and Noah swept me up in a bear hug. “I love you so much,” he whispered in my ear.

“I love you too.”

Later, as the party wound down and the winter evening drew in, Noah and I found ourselves alone, standing together at the front window.

Snow fell softly outside, just as it had for most of the week, each flake catching the light like tiny stars.

The Christmas lights that had been strung along the windows cast everything in a gentle, golden glow.

“You know,” Noah said, pulling me close, his voice soft with memory, “your grandmother once told me that some people are like her favorite recipes—they take time to perfect, but they’re worth the wait.”

I smiled against Noah’s shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of cinnamon and wood smoke that had come to mean safety, love, home. “She told me the same thing about you. Well, sort of. She said I’d know I was home when I found someone who could brown butter properly.”

“She never said that.”

“No, but I found the box of recipe cards, the ones you two scribbled notes all over. You almost burned this place down, which I personally find shocking—you being such a safety minded fireman and all.”

“That isn’t exactly how it went down. You know how hard browning butter can be.” Noah’s laugh rumbled through his chest and into mine. “Only took me burning it once.”

I pulled him down for a kiss that tasted of victory cookies and all the sweet possibilities ahead.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, dusting Pine Ridge in fresh white as Christmas approached. But inside the bakery—our bakery now, this place where past and future had found a way to rise together—everything was warm and bright and perfectly, beautifully right.

Just like coming home should be.

And somewhere, I was sure, Nai Nai was smiling, knowing that sometimes the best recipes aren’t found in books at all, but in the courage to stay, to love, to create something new from the ingredients life gives you.

Sometimes, they’re found in spilled coffee, an unexpected partnership, and the way a firefighter’s hands can be both strong enough to save lives, and gentle enough to shape the perfect cookie.

Sometimes, they’re found in coming home.

THE END

Thank you so much for reading His Big Holiday Firefighter .