I feel more like myself than I have ever felt.
Maybe that’s what I’ve been missing all along.
The clock on my nightstand reads 8:32. I’m supposed to be at the mayor’s office in less than half an hour. I reach for my phone, thumb brushing over the cracked edge of the case.
A voicemail from Jake, two missed texts from an unknown number—probably the guys delivering my stuff—and one from Clara. My chest softens immediately.
I hit record and lean back against the headboard. “Hey, bug. It’s Dad. Just wanted to say good morning. Hope school’s good today. Don’t forget your lunch—you left it on the counter last week, remember? I’ll call again tonight, okay? Love you.”
I hit send before I can replay it.
The shower’s slow to heat, and the pipes rattle like they’re protesting my existence. The water scalds, and I let it, scrubbing until the steam fills the small space. I stand there longer than I should, trying to wash off what can’t be washed off—the phantom feel of her skin, the taste of her breath against mine.
By the time I’m dressed, the clock’s ticking toward nine. My reflection in the mirror looks marginally better: hair damp, shirt tucked in, badge clipped at my belt. The new sheriff of DriftwoodCove. A title that feels too heavy for a man still replaying the sound of a woman’s laugh in his head.
The drive into town is short—morning mist clinging to the trees, the streets slowly waking. The mayor’s office sits on the edge of the square, across from the bakery that’s already got a line stretching out the door.
Jake’s waiting out front, coffee in hand, smile too big for this hour. “Morning, Sheriff.”
“Jake.” I nod, stepping out of the truck. “You’re early.”
“I’m always early. Habit.” He claps me on the shoulder. “You sleep okay?”
“More or less,” I lie.
He grins. “Good. Big day. Let’s get you familiarized with the locals before you scare ’em with that uniform.”
We head down the block to the small police station first—two cars parked out front, one of them clearly older than the town itself. The crew’s light today, just a dispatcher named Jasmine and a deputy still in training, both friendly enough to make small talk. After that, Jake leads me past a diner, the florist, and the firehouse next door.
Inside, the smell of bacon and fresh bread hits me instantly. There’s a man in a gray shirt sitting at a corner table, his hair a mess of brown curls, forearms covered in tattoos.
Beside him sits a woman with bright pink hair tied in a knot, her laughter bright enough to carry across the room. She’s got her hand resting on his knee, and he looks like the kind of man who’d take on the world if she asked him to.
“Captain Gabe Ashford,” Jake says, gesturing. “And that’s Sadie, his wife.”
Gabe stands, shakes my hand. “Heard we’re getting a new sheriff.” His grip’s firm. “Welcome to Driftwood.”
“Appreciate it,” I say, glancing at Sadie, who smiles warmly before turning back to her breakfast.
Their scents mix in the air—spice and honey, unmistakably mated. It hits my senses hard enough to make my jaw tense. Every woman in this town is beautiful, apparently. First Millie, now Sadie. What the hell is in the water here?
Jake orders coffee to go and slaps Gabe on the shoulder. “We’ll catch you later.”
As we step back outside, I take a deep breath, the chill morning air grounding me. Jake’s already talking about next stops—the school, the pier, the station’s new patrol routes—but my mind drifts. Millie’s name keeps threading through every thought, a quiet echo I can’t shake.
We drive along the coast road, the ocean spread wide on one side, pale blue under the morning sun. The town’s small but alive—fishermen hauling nets, shopkeepers unlocking doors, a few joggers moving through the mist. It’s the kind of place that looks like it runs on ritual and rhythm.
When we pull up outside a place called The Cocoa Nook, Jake kills the engine. “Best hot chocolate this side of anywhere,” he says.
Just then, my phone begins to ring.
He opens the car door. “I’ll grab us breakfast. You take that.”
“Got it.”
He disappears inside while I check my phone again. A missed call from Clara. I hit redial instantly.
“Dad!” Her voice bursts through, bright and quick.
