The bookstore was packed, every corner lit with fairy lights and the warm glow of lanterns.
Copies of Rooted in Flavor filled the window display, each stacked beside a basket of herbs and hand-tied bundles of rosemary and thyme.
Inside, guests sipped wine from the Thornberg vineyard and sampled miniature bites of recipes from the book: lavender shortbread, wild mushroom tartlets, and citrus-honey cake.
Sophie stood near the back, beneath a garland of wildflowers strung between shelves, signing her final book of the evening. Her hand ached and her cheeks were sore from smiling, but she wouldn’t have changed a thing. This night was everything she’d dreamed of—more, even.
Because this time, it was hers. Her name on the cover. Her story in every page.
“You did it,” Nero said, slipping beside her once the final guest drifted toward the refreshment table. His arm brushed hers. “And no one tried to take credit for your recipes this time.”
Sophie laughed softly and leaned into him. “No one dares. Not with my bear by my side.”
Nero gave a quiet, amused growl, just for her ears, before slipping his arm around her waist. He was still in his crisp dark shirt and jacket from the reading, but his tie had vanished and his top button was undone—his version of completely relaxed.
“I meant every word in the acknowledgments,” she added, tilting her face toward him. “This book wouldn’t exist without you.”
“I only cleared the path,” he replied, eyes warm. “You walked it.”
They stood in companionable silence, watching the bustle of guests, the buzz of conversation and clink of glasses, the shelves filled with stories—now including Sophie’s.
“I have something to tell you,” she said after a moment, voice low.
Nero turned toward her immediately, sensing the shift. “What is it?”
Sophie reached into her coat pocket and drew out a small square card. It was a copy of the first page of her book—only this one had been altered. Beneath the original dedication was a new line, handwritten in gold ink: And to the little one already on their way…
Nero took the card. Read it twice. And then looked at her, expression shifting from puzzled to stunned wonder. “You mean…?”
She nodded, eyes glistening. “I found out last night. I wanted tonight to be perfect before I told you. But yes. We’re going to have a baby.”
For a long second, Nero said nothing. Then he reached for her, lifting her into his arms, spinning her once before grounding them both again with a deep, shuddering breath.
“I thought tonight couldn’t get any better,” he whispered into her hair.
“It just did,” she said, cupping his face. “We’re going to be a family.”
“You already are my family,” he said fiercely. “But now there’s more. You, me, and a new little cub.”
“Our little bear cub.” She kissed him softly, ignoring the bookstore crowd just beyond the stacks.
They were a perfect pairing.