Page 49 of At First Catch

“That too.”

I scrub one hand over my jaw and look out toward the water instead of engaging further.

Walter wanders off looking entirely too pleased with himself. Which probably means I’ve already lost whatever game he thinks we’re playing.

Also concerning, considering Hadley’s brothers remain blissfully unaware.

For now.

The thought sobers me unexpectedly because eventually Holt is going to figure it out. And once Holt knows? Rowan and Crew won’t be far behind.

I’ve seen the way those men love their sister. Protective doesn’t fully cover it. The Wright brothers look at Hadley like she’s something precious enough to level cities over.

Which honestly? Fair.

But still deeply inconvenient for me personally.

Walter eventually wanders off toward the fuel dock after delivering several deeply unwanted opinions about marina signage and the proper way to grill shrimp skewers for large public events.

I spend another hour reviewing contractor schedules while the afternoon sun shifts warmer over the bay. The marina begins to quiet again around five thirty as workers head home one by one, trucks disappearing from the gravel lot as evening settles over the water.

The dock lights flicker on just as the sky begins turning gold.

I lock the office door and pause near the main dock.

This is already my favorite time here. The marina breathes differently at sunset. The bay glows amber beneath the fading light while gulls wheel overhead in lazy circles. Wind moves steadily across the docks, carrying salt, warmth, and distant music drifting from downtown.

For one suspended second, I can actually picture the future here.

String lights overhead.

People laughing near the restaurant deck.

The old brass bell outside the bait shop ringing because some little kid caught their first fish while half the dock applauded like they’d just won a tournament.

Live music drifting over the water.

Somewhere, a little girl dramatically pretending to be a pirate while her parents laugh from the restaurant deck.

Kids running between picnic tables while tourists crowd the railings at sunset.

The kind of ordinary traditions people don’t realize they’re making until years later.

And Hadley is somewhere in the middle of all of it.

Smiling. Snickering. Carrying paperwork she pretends to hate while organizing everything around her.

I catch myself wondering where she’d set up the vendor tents. Which dock she’d reserve for live music. Whether she’d still steal my clipboard every time she disagreed with me.

I stop. I’ve started planning around someone who doesn’t even know she’s a part of the picture yet.

I don’t just want the marina to work. I want a life here. And Hadley has already become tangled up in that vision.

Which is absolutely terrifying.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. This time, it’s Hadley, and my entire body reacts.

Hadley