Page 130 of At First Catch

As we slowly sway together under glowing lights and warm salt air, the world seems to shrink.

Hadley smiles against my shoulder after a moment.

“You’re dancing.”

“Against my will.”

“Liar.”

I glance down at her as music drifts across the water, and something inside my chest aches with the sheer intensity of loving her this much already. Then Hadley tilts her head back and kisses me.

In front of everyone.

The marina disappears around me because this kiss feels different too. It’s like we’ve stopped pretending this isn’t real.

My hand tightens gently at her waist while I kiss her back beneath the lights and music and warm Virginia night.

And then the scariest realization of all occurs. I’m afraid of ever having to leave her.

Chapter Seventeen

HADLEY

By Saturday morning, Coral Bell Cove has officially accepted Nolan Pierce as one of its own. And not subtly either.

Walter Greene hands Nolan a hardware store loyalty card “for locals.” Mrs. Henderson invites him to Sunday dinner three separate times. Two fishermen waving at him from Main Street, yelling “Morning, Marina Man.”

Which, unfortunately, makes me laugh every single time now.

Nolan, however, looks personally betrayed by the nickname’s continued survival.

“This town is emotionally exhausting,” he mutters beside me as we walk through the Saturday farmers’ market carrying coffee.

Warm summer sunlight spills across Main Street while tourists and locals crowd between flower stands, bakery tents, and produce tables. Someone’s selling lemonade beneath a striped canopy, kids weave through the crowd with sticky fingers, and music drifts from somewhere near the courthouse lawn. The whole town buzzes with that easy coastal weekend energy Coral Bell Cove seems to manufacture without trying.

And beside me, Nolan looks so naturally woven into all of it now that sometimes it startles me. Baseball cap. Coffee in hand. Shoulder brushing mine every few steps.

“You secretly love it,” I tell him.

Nolan glances sideways at me. “I secretly tolerate it.”

“Liar.”

His mouth twitches.

God, I love making him smile. Somewhere along the way, it became one of my favorite things.

“You’re staring again,” he says.

“I’m admiring your community integration.”

“That sounds threatening.”

“It should.”

A laugh escapes him, and that warm impossible feeling in my chest every time I pull joy from him.

We stop beside a flower stand overflowing with peonies and wildflowers while a warm breeze rolls through Main Street.