Page 17 of At First Catch

Bad idea because the second I create distance, my brain fills it with memory instead.

Barefoot Hadley in my rental kitchen six months ago, wearing my T-shirt. Hadley giggling against my mouth. Hadley asleep beside me before dawn with one hand curled loosely against my chest. Then waking up alone.

The warmth drains from me so fast that Hadley notices.

Her features relax, losing their sharp edges.

“Nolan.”

Just my name. Quiet and careful.

I look back at her. The concern in her eyes feels entirely too intimate.

“You okay?”

Funny question coming from her.

I almost say it.

Instead, I take a slow sip of coffee and lean one shoulder against the office doorway. “Long week.”

Hadley studies me for another second.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re okay every minute.”

Man, those words packed a punch.

I let out a quiet breath. “I sold the company three days ago.”

She blinks. “That’s...a lot.”

“Yeah.”

I look out toward the docks.

“Feels like everybody congratulates you when you sell something successful.”

I chortle once.

“Nobody asks if you’re grieving it.”

The breeze shifts between us again, stronger this time, carrying warmth off the docks and pushing loose strands of hair across her face. Without thinking, I reach toward her. My fingers stop inches from her cheek.

Hadley stills completely.

So do I.

The entire world seems to pause right there on the marina office steps. With a slow ascent, her eyes meet my own. Heat crashes through me hard enough to feel violent.

One touch. That’s all it would take. One touch and I already know exactly how this ends.

My hand drops back to my side before I can do something incredibly stupid. Hadley exhales like she forgot to breathe for a second there.

Neither of us speaks. The tension stretches warm and aching between us while the marina creaks around us.

Finally, Hadley says, voice quieter now, “You really love this place already, don’t you?”

I glance out toward the water.