Page 89 of At First Catch

I’m so shocked that I’m motionless for several seconds. I’m happy in a way I haven’t been since I was a teenager.

Outside the cottage windows, early sunlight spills across Back Bay in soft gold streaks while gulls cry somewhere near the docks. The marina itself has already started waking for the day—engines humming faintly in the distance, dock lines creaking against pilings, the muted sound of workers arriving.

Usually, mornings mean strategy. Planning. Problem-solving. Work.

Now the first sensible thing is: Hadley agreed to a date.

A real date.

Not stolen moments. Not lingering almost kisses. Not accidental proximity while pretending professionalism.

Just as the thought settles, panic follows. What exactly constitutes a date in Coral Bell Cove when the entire town already watches us like bird-watchers?

The answer, apparently, is absolutely nothing private.

I discover this less than twenty minutes later when I step outside carrying coffee and find Walter Greene sitting in a folding chair near the marina entrance at eight o’clock.

“Morning,” he says.

I stop walking.

“Why are you here?”

Walter sips coffee calmly. “Retired.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“Hm.”

I genuinely may ban that sound from the marina. Walter studies me over the rim of his cup before casually asking, “You taking Hadley somewhere nice tonight?”

My entire body goes still.

“What?”

“Mrs. Henderson said you finally kissed her.”

I nearly drop the coffee.

“No, she did not.”

“She did.”

“How would she even know that?”

Walter shrugs. “This town notices things.”

Jesus Christ.

I close my eyes briefly. The horrifying part is that I know he is one hundred percent correct. The thought lingers heavily in my chest while Walter watches me struggle through a full emotional crisis.

“You seriously like her, huh?” he asks eventually.

I laugh once under my breath. Denying it feels pointless now.

“Yeah,” I admit.

Walter nods once like he already knew.