Page 37 of Suddenly Yours

The place was buzzing with guests, but not in the chaotic way of normal resorts. East Haven ran on elegance, low conversation, clinking glasses, sunlight pouring through wide windows in long, creamy beams.

We chose to eat outside on the wide deck that overlooked the yard and water. The storm had passed entirely now, leaving the air warm and clean with a faint salt-snap that always made me think of freedom.

Our server brought out fresh baguette slices still warm from the oven, paired with whipped herb butter and a divine-smelling olive tapenade while we waited for our main dishes.

I was buttering my second slice when Lilly, the resort’s official manager and Sarah’s best friend, appeared. She was petite, glowing from the sun, with her blonde hair tucked up into a messy bun with a pen stuck through it.

“Well, look at you two,” she teased, sliding into the empty chair beside me without asking. “Sarah told me you were here. I’m glad you are finally taking some downtime. You both look sun-kissed and slightly suspiciously smiley.”

“We were both just ridiculously pampered, so you can add fully relaxed to that list,” Cade said with a grin.

“And hungry,” I muttered, waving the bread.

Lilly laughed. “Sarah mentioned you did some work for us.”

“Yes. She arranged for us to stay for the night last night,” he said. “I think Missy’s getting spoiled.”

“Good.” Lilly squeezed my hand. “You deserve it. I hope you’re eating something decadent.”

“Decadent is coming,” said a warm French-accented voice behind her.

Chef Adam Carriveau, Lilly’s husband, arrived carrying two plates like the culinary angel he was. The man was tall and dark-haired, with laugh lines around his eyes and forearms that could knead a mountain into bread dough.

The couple had three kids and were in the bakery at least once a week along with Sarah, her husband Ben, and their two children.

I was loving getting to know all the locals in Silver Cove. It made everything feel more… real. More like home.

“For ze princess of pastries,” he said, setting a plate before me, “a croque-monsieur crafted with Gruyère we aged onsite. And for the man who fixes our lights, a steak frites with au poivre sauce. I wanted to deliver this myself.”

“Oh wow,” I breathed. “Adam, this looks incredible.”

“That’s because I made it,” he said, perfectly deadpan. When I laughed, he winked. “Bon appétit.”

He disappeared back inside with Lilly, who blew us both a kiss as she followed her husband.

“Okay,” I whispered after a moment of reverent silence, “I don’t want to exaggerate, but this might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I snapped a few photos of the food and tried to get the sunlight hitting the water in the background.

Cade lifted his fork. “I’m a little offended you didn’t say that about me after I shaved,” he teased.

“Oh please. You’re a solid second place,” I joked back.

His grin flashed quickly and he looked so boyish I was reminded of all the times he’d teased me like this growing up. The smile and look were the kind that made something deep in my chest melt like butter left in the sun.

We ate slowly, savoring every bite. The croque-monsieur was rich and melty, perfectly crisped. Cade’s steak smelled sinful every time he cut into it, and he offered me a bite, which I accepted with much less dignity than I intended.

We chatted about everything and nothing, but got hung up on the absurd number of wealthy guests that waltzed through this resort on a yearly basis. All the while, the warm breeze lifted the ends of my hair as sunlight danced across Cade’s shoulders.

The quiet part of me kept whispering:

Don’t get used to this. Don’t fall deeper. Don’t ruin what you already have.

But sitting there with him, full and content, watching the water sparkle?

It was already too late.

All too soon, it was time to catch the ferry.

JT wasn’t driving today, which meant no witty author stories, no crime-novel quips. The deck was quieter without him, the ferry rolling gently over the water as the island receded behind us.