Page 105 of At First Catch

And all of that makes for a difficult situation because now it’s Sunday morning, and I’m standing in my kitchen making coffee while replaying the exact look on Nolan’s face after I told him I didn’t think I wanted to leave.

I lean both hands on the counter and close my eyes. That look has followed me all the way home.

Rook snores loudly from the couch, unbothered by my emotional crisis. He must have been tuckered out when he wandered into my house through the doggie door around six this morning.

He stretches without opening his eyes, clearly confident I’ll survive this crisis on my own. His tail thumps once against the cushions without opening his eyes.

Outside my cottage windows, sunlight spills warmly across Otter Creek Farm while the rest of the property wakes. Somewhere near the barn, I can hear Rowan arguing with Dad about tractor maintenance while music drifts faintly from the main farmhouse kitchen.

Sunday mornings here always feel softer, slower. The whole family naturally folding together again after busy weeks.

Usually I love it, but today my pulse keeps jumping whenever I think about seeing Holt after my date last night.

My phone buzzes against the counter, and every nerve ending in my body lights up.

It’s pathetic.

I grab it too quickly anyway.

Nolan

Morning.

I answer before I’ve finished reading the message, then reread it anyway.

Me

Morning.

Three dots appear.

Nolan

You awake long?

I glance toward the second coffee mug I took out of the cabinet on instinct.

Me

Apparently long enough to accidentally make your coffee too.

Silence.

Nolan

Hadley.

Just my name leaves my chest aching.

I lean against the counter and close my eyes briefly because honestly, this man is becoming impossible to survive.

Nolan

You busy today?

I smile helplessly.

Me