She shrugged. “I could have gone the burn-all-our-pictures route, or there was talk of a voodoo doll. Or a rebound guy. Instead I got a pet pig.”

“Okay, so why Way?”

“W.H.A.Y. Welcome Home Andrew York. I mean, since you really are going to come home and stay home, right?”

“I am. My home will be wherever we are together. I think maybe part of why I never came home was that I knew I wouldn’t be coming back to you. I never want to feel that way again.”

“We won’t let that happen.” She placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him. “Welcome home.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Six

One Year Later

Andrew had the architectural plans finished and was ready to break ground for his new restaurant on the property his father had given him. Farm to Fork, named for its location between the towns of Farm City and Bailey’s Fork, would open in time for the Christmas holidays if all went according to schedule.

Until then, The Main Street Cafe had kept all the same home cooking on the menu, but now the place had enjoyed a makeover. The updated booths made it a comfortable place to grab a quick bite, but the additional white-tablecloth seating in the new section off the back, including an outside area under a pergola with ceiling fans and heaters for year-round dining, had added a touch of class Bailey’s Fork had never had before. Andrew trained new chefs who would help carry on this cafe and cook in his new restaurant.

The old Main Street Cafe sign had been retired and replaced with a new one. The New York Cafe. A play on words. The town that had brought he and Kelly back together, and the last name he hoped they’d soon be sharing.

Whay didn’t seem to mind his new name, and Andrew had found someone to make a tiny piggy tuxedo jacket and bow tie for him for the big day.

As the last customers were being served their Valentine’s Day celebration dinner, Kelly and Andrew sat outside next to the fireplace, enjoying their own special dinner.

“It’s hard to believe it’s been a year since we got back together.”

A waiter came outside with a plate carried high above his head. He then set it down right in front of Kelly. A slice of Triple-Layer Honey Almond Cake like the one she’d made on Four Square, but a miniature version, and this time the Tiffany Blue box wasn’t made out of fondant. It was the real deal.

“I hope I got this right.” He reached over and opened the box.

She pulled her hands to her chest. “It’s beautiful.”

“Like you.” He lifted the ring out of the box and got down on one knee. “Kelly McIntyre, will you marry me?”