Page 27 of Steeped In Problems (Badges & Baristas #3)
Tanner had faced down wildfires and mountain lions, and a man who’d taken five hostages into a snowbound cabin, but nothing rattled him like standing in the back room of his own coffee shop, clutching a single sheet of yellow legal pad paper, and sweating through his one good dress shirt.
He could hear the crowd through the thin wall, every cough and shuffle, and, every now and then, the high peel of Kristy’s laughter.
She always found a way to laugh, to make everyone else feel like the world wasn’t ending, even if hers had nearly done so a dozen times.
He glanced down at the page. His handwriting looked like a drunk doctor’s prescription: messy, forceful, but no denying who’d written it.
He tried reading through his notes again, but the words didn’t sound right.
Too formal. Too practiced. He wanted to say something that would stick, not just to Kristy, but to the whole crowd—make it impossible for anyone to miss what she’d meant to this place, to him.
But whenever he imagined actually saying it, his brain shut down, and his throat dried up.
He ran a hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble he’d meant to shave.
He’d even tried to slick his hair, but it rebelled, spiking up at the crown like always.
The new shirt—courtesy of Rhonda, who’d left it in the manager’s office with a note, “Wear this or else”—was a dark blue button-down, sleeves rolled once, untucked over a pair of new black slacks.
He looked like a guy who’d tried, but not so hard that anyone would mock him for it.
His hands were shaking. Just a little, but enough. He balled the legal pad page, then smoothed it, then balled it again.
He didn’t do this. He was not a speechmaker.
He was a cop, or had been, until the crash.
Then, a coffee shop owner, at best. Now he was—what?
A team mascot? The majority partner? He wasn’t even sure anymore.
Except Kristy made him want to be something else, something more.
She made him want to stand up and let people see him instead of always holding back.
He closed his eyes and tried to picture the scene outside.
Rhonda was working the crowd, probably hyping up the lemon loaf, and maybe passing around coffee samples.
Emily and Joe were holding court in the back, but really watching for any signs of trouble, like the place would combust if they let their guard down.
Kristy was up front, probably already running a not-so-silent side commentary to whoever had the misfortune to sit next to her.
He loved her for that. For all of it. For the fact that she’d thrown herself into his world, into the Brave Badge, without asking permission and without apologizing.
For the fact that she hadn’t let Mark or any of her ghosts stop her.
For the fact that she’d saved him, even if he was too stubborn to admit it for a long time.
He folded the speech, stuffed it in his pocket, and stared at the closed door. He could change his mind. Do this in private. But Kristy deserved for him to do it this way, something grand that made her feel as special as she was.
The room was full, every chair taken, the buzz of conversation dying instantly as he stepped out.
He scanned the crowd and found Kristy in the front row.
Her hair was down, shoulders loose, and a faint smile on her lips.
She saw him, and her eyes lit up, a spark that made the rest of the room blur.
He made it to the podium and rested both hands on either side, anchoring himself so he wouldn’t float off.
Aiden nodded at him from the back, a subtle “go get ‘em” that actually made him feel better.
He looked at his notes, then at the crowd, then straight at Kristy. The rest of the world could wait. This was for her.
He cleared his throat, voice coming out rougher than he meant. “Thanks for coming,” he started, and the crowd hushed even more. “I’ll keep this short since I know Rhonda’s got enough lemon loaf in the back to sink a rescue boat.”
Scattered chuckles. Kristy smiled wider.
He looked down at his notes again, then set them aside.
“I was never much for speeches. Or coffee, if I’m honest. But I’m good at knowing what matters when I see it.
The Brave Badge is still here because of all of you and because of one person who refused to give up, even when I’d already written it off. ”
He paused and caught Kristy’s eye again. “Kristy Howard is the heart of this place. She’s the reason we made it when times got tough.”
People started clapping. Not a lot, but enough. He let it happen, then raised his hands to quiet them.
He took a breath. “But that’s not what I wanted to say. This meeting isn’t about business. Not really. It’s about something else.”
He locked eyes with her, letting the words sit there. He’d practiced them a dozen times, but they felt better raw. “It’s about second chances. And knowing when to take them.”
His voice cracked. He didn’t care.
He gripped the podium so hard his knuckles went white. “I owe this place and all of you more than I can say. But I owe Kristy the most. She gave me back my life. And I want her to know—” He faltered, blinked, and tried again. “I want her to know she’s my future.”
It got so quiet he could hear the espresso machine cycling in the back.
He looked at Kristy, and nothing else mattered.
He stepped out from behind the podium, nerves gone, and said the only thing that was left. “I love you, Kristy, and I can’t spend another minute living without you as my wife. Will you marry me?” He got down on one knee and pulled out a ring box.
But Kristy didn’t move. Not at first. Tanner watched the color climb up her cheeks, watched her struggle to catch up with what he’d just said and done.
The words replayed in his head, louder and clumsier with every second. He almost wanted to snatch them back, put them in order, and try again. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.
She stood up, but not all the way. It was more like her body had decided to move without her brain’s permission, and now she was stuck in some weird halfway position between sitting and running. She blinked at him, and he realized she might actually cry.
“I—” she started, but her voice cracked. She shook her head, then tried again. “You really mean it?”
Tanner nodded and pulled the ring from the box. “I meant every word.”
Kristy’s eyes glistened, the soft glow of hope and astonishment mingling together as she looked down at Tanner. The room was silent, waiting, a collective breath held.
“Yes,” she finally whispered, voice trembling but clear. “Yes, I will marry you.”
A cheer erupted from the crowd, a wave of clapping and whooping that seemed to shake the walls of the Brave Badge. Tanner stood up, his face breaking into a wide, relieved smile as he slid the ring onto Kristy's finger. It fit perfectly like it was meant to be there all along.
The twins high-fived, then started a chant: “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” The whole front row picked it up, and even the adults joined in, voices growing louder until it filled the Brave Badge like a marching band.
Tanner looked down at Kristy. She was still crying, but now she was laughing, too, her whole face lit up. He cupped her jaw with both hands carefully, and kissed her—soft at first, then harder, because he wanted her to know me meant every word.
The crowd went insane.
He heard chairs scraping and feet stomping. Someone banged a coffee mug on a table. In the far corner, Joe shouted, “That’s how you do it, son.”
Kristy wiped her eyes, then poked him in the chest. “You couldn’t have warned me first?”
“Would’ve chickened out,” he admitted.
She grinned, shaky but so bright it made his throat close up. “You know this is going to be all over social by the time we close tonight, right?”
He shrugged, and for once, the thought didn’t scare him. “Let them talk.”
She kissed him again, quick and fierce. “I will.”
Rhonda led the charge toward them, her face split with a grin as she ushered others forward.
“Let’s celebrate,” she declared, and with that command, the room transformed.
Music started up, festive and loud. Plates piled high with lemon loaf and cups brimming with coffee passed through the hands of friends and well-wishers.
Zach clapped Tanner on the back so hard he nearly stumbled forward. “Didn’t think you had it in you,” he teased with a grin.
Erica wiped a discreet tear from her eye before fixing Kristy with a look of fierce approval. “You two are good for each other,” she stated more than suggested.
As guests came up to congratulate them, Aiden gave Tanner a thumbs-up from across the room while Lindsay wiped tears from her cheeks with a napkin. The community's warmth enveloped them; every handshake and hug infused with genuine happiness for their engagement.
Later in the evening, when the crowd thinned out, and the noise died down to comfortable murmurs and soft laughter, Tanner and Kristy found themselves alone by the window watching the shadows play on the street outside.
Kristy leaned her head against Tanner’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you did that in front of everyone,” she murmured.
Tanner chuckled softly. “Seemed like the right time,” he confessed. “And I guess I wanted everyone to see just how serious I am about us.”
“You really surprised me,” Kristy admitted. “In the best way.”
He smiled at her, tired and a little raw. “This is your last chance to run, you know.”
She shook her head. “Not going anywhere.”
He leaned toward her and placed a kiss on her lips. “Good. Because I have big plans for us.”
She could hear the smile in his voice. “Like what?”
“We can add a back eating area and start serving lunch.”
“That’s not a bad idea. What if we also add a dog rescue?”
“Really? Dogs and coffee?”
“What, it could be great,” she tried to convince him.
He ran a hand through her hair. “Whatever you want, Kristy.”
She went quiet, then looked at him with something almost shy. “I just want you.”
He kissed her again, slow and careful, and for the first time in forever, he felt like the world could be good. Like maybe he was allowed to want things and be happy.
They stood together in silence for a moment before Tanner spoke again, his voice soft but carrying a weight of sincerity that made Kristy turn to look at him. “With everything we’ve been through, I know there won’t be anything we can’t handle together.”
Kristy smiled up at him, her eyes reflecting both the soft lighting of the shop and all the love she felt for this man who’d turned her life into an unexpected but beautiful adventure. “I believe that,” she said simply.