Page 8 of At First Catch

Me

Depends. Are you planning something fun, or are you allergic to joy?

Three dots appear.

Disappear.

Appear again.

My stupid heart behaves like this is a marriage proposal instead of a text about municipal paperwork.

Unknown

I bought a marina. Clearly, I make questionable choices.

My mouth curves despite every attempt to stop it.

Me

Questionable choices are my specialty.

The response takes longer this time.

When it comes, the air leaves my lungs.

Unknown

I remember.

I stare at those two words while the café noise fades to a distant hum.

A door cracked open just enough for heat to slip through.

Holt is silent beside me now. Even he knows better than to joke.

I lock my phone and slide it into my apron pocket before I can reread the message again.

Across the café, Mrs. Pace calls my name, asking for another batch of cinnamon rolls.

“Coming,” I answer automatically.

My feet move. My hands reach for flour. The morning rush keeps rolling around me exactly like it always has. But somewhere beneath the smell of coffee and cinnamon, something has shifted. And for the first time in six months it doesn’t feel finished. It feels like the beginning.

Chapter Two

NOLAN

The marina smells like salt, diesel fuel, old wood, and memories that don’t belong to me.

By the time I pull into the cracked gravel lot just after nine, the morning fog has mostly burned off Back Bay, leaving behind pale blue skies streaked with thin clouds and sunlight sharp enough to glint off the water between the docks. Gulls circle overhead, screaming at one another like tiny, winged criminals while the weathered pilings groan beneath the tide.

Sweetspire Marina has been standing here longer than most of the buildings in Coral Bell Cove.

And it shows.

The main dock leans slightly to the left in places where the hurricane surge chewed through support beams two years ago. The faded marina sign near the entrance is missing half the lettering, leaving only EETSPIRE A INA in chipped navy paint. Rust creeps along the fuel pumps. Several empty slips sit abandoned near the far pier where boats used to crowd shoulder to shoulder during peak season before the hurricane gutted half the waterfront businesses.

Most people see decay when they look at this place.