Page 100 of At First Catch

Instead, I say, “You’re distracting.”

Hadley laughs.

That impossible warmth spreads through my chest every time I hear that sound.

I guide her carefully around a crowded sidewalk corner, my hand settling instinctively on her lower back for half a second.

The restaurant sits near the far end of Main Street overlooking Back Bay, tucked behind a line of weathered dunes and glowing beneath strands of white lights.

Hadley slows slightly when she sees it.

“Oh.”

She slows, looks up at the restaurant, and smiles. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until that moment.

The restaurant itself is small and coastal elegant without trying too hard—open-air deck, soft live music drifting from somewhere near the bar, and candlelight flickering across white tablecloths while the bay stretches dark and endless beyond the railings. It’s nestled on the rear of the Needle Palm Resort.

“You like it?” I ask.

In that suspended moment, Hadley looking up at me makes the whole world disappear.

“I really like it,” she says.

My chest tightens, then gets worse because she adds, “You remembered my favorite place.”

I shrug.

“You remember everybody else’s favorites.”

The words leave my mouth before I realize what they reveal.

She mentioned it once. Months ago. While balancing a shutter on one shoulder and arguing with Walter about paint colors. I honestly thought everyone remembered details like that.

Before I can respond, the hostess brightens.

“Well, finally.”

Hadley closes her eyes briefly.

I stare at the hostess. “Excuse me?”

The woman grins shamelessly. “The town’s been waiting for this date for at least a week.”

Jesus Christ.

Hadley mutters, “I’m moving.”

The hostess ignores her.

“Your table’s ready, Marina Man.”

I stop walking.

Hadley physically folds forward, laughing.

“Absolutely not,” I say.

The hostess looks delighted by my suffering. “Too late.”