Page 4 of At First Catch

Holt watches me over the rim of his coffee cup, dark brows pulled together just so. Most people wouldn’t notice the look. I do. I’ve spent thirty-one years learning the thousand tiny expressions that cross my twin brother’s face before he says what he’s really thinking.

“You good?”

“I’m holding a muffin, Holt. It’s intense work, but I’m managing.”

He doesn’t smile.

That’s the problem with twins. Especially twins like us. There’s no real hiding once the other starts paying attention.

I shift away, grab the towel beside the espresso machine, and wipe down a section of the counter that’s already spotless. Mrs. Pace catches the motion from across the café. One eyebrow lifts, and I pretend not to notice.

“You made the wrinkle.”

I sigh. “I do not have a wrinkle.”

“You absolutely do.” He points vaguely between his own eyebrows. “Right there. It shows up before you start pretending everything’s fine.”

“Good thing everything is fine, then.”

“Hm.”

The sound holds entirely too much skepticism.

I focus harder on the counter even though the rag in my hand hasn’t picked up a crumb in the last thirty seconds. Across the café, Mrs. Henderson is still arguing about electric scooters while Oliver tries to feed whipped cream to Rook under the table. Real life continues moving around me in warm, noisy little circles. Meanwhile, my pulse is suddenly lodged somewhere near my throat over one stupid name.

Nolan.

God.

I haven’t seen him in almost three weeks. Not properly. Just glimpses here and there when he comes into town to meet with Lark about the inn. Passing conversations. Tight smiles. Careful distance.

Like we’re both pretending we don’t remember exactly what it felt like to touch each other.

The rain against his windows. His hand at the back of my neck. The way he looked at me like he was trying very hard not to.

My grip tightens around the towel.

“You’re spiraling internally,” Holt points out.

“I’m literally wiping a counter.”

“You’ve been wiping the same spot since Bailey said marina.”

I stop moving.

Right.

Because Nolan bought the marina.

Officially.

Which means he isn’t just drifting through Coral Bell Cove anymore. He isn’t showing up for a few days and disappearing back to the big city before I can accidentally overthink myself into a stress rash.

He’s staying.

Something low in my stomach flips over hard enough to make me angry with myself.

Bailey, entirely unaware she just detonated my nervous system, starts unpacking books onto the corner table. “I heard he’s already bringing in engineers to look at the docks.”