Page 129 of At First Catch

Hadley beside me at the marina. At home. Everywhere.

The permanence of the feeling nearly steals my breath, then music swells louder near the docks as somebody changes the playlist, and Hadley laughs.

“What?”

She smiles up at me.

“Dance with me.”

I blink.

“Absolutely not.”

Her mouth drops open dramatically. “Excuse me?”

“I build things. I don’t dance.”

“That sounds fake.”

“It’s deeply real.”

Hadley narrows her eyes suspiciously before grabbing my hand.

“Nolan Pierce.”

“Hads—”

Too late.

She’s already pulling me toward the open stretch of dock near the marina lights where a handful of couples sway lazily beneath the string lights.

I stop walking.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Hadley.”

She steps closer then.

Really close.

Close enough that warm wind lifts strands of her hair across my jaw while laughter and music blur around us.

And then she says the most unfair possible thing. “Please?”

Christ.

I would genuinely help this woman hide a body if she looked at me like this long enough.

“You fight dirty,” I mutter.

A victorious smile spreads across her face.

Beautiful. Absolutely devastating. She slides both arms loosely around my neck, trapping me. The second her body settles against mine beneath marina lights and soft music, every instinct to resist evaporates completely.

My hands find her waist.