Page 70 of At First Catch

Hadley

Correct again.

The smile pulling at my mouth feels impossible to stop lately.

I’m still looking at the screen when Miguel walks into the office carrying electrical schematics.

He stops mid-step.

Then looks between me and the phone.

“Oh,” he says.

I narrow my eyes. “Don’t.”

“That’s the face.”

“What face?”

“The one people get right before they start buying matching patio furniture.”

Jesus Christ.

“You’ve known me four days.”

“Yet I know you’re texting the girl.”

I hate everyone here.

Miguel grins and tosses the schematics onto my desk. “Town’s already talking, by the way.”

Every muscle in my body stills.

“What?”

He shrugs casually. “Nothing bad. Just that the marina owner keeps looking at Hadley Wright like she personally hangs the sun and moon.”

I stare at him in horror.

Miguel considers me for another second.

“Honestly? You should probably get better at hiding it.”

Then he leaves before I can respond.

The office falls silent around me. Outside the windows, the marina hums steadily with morning activity. Workers move between slips carrying lumber while boats drift across Back Bay beneath bright spring sunlight.

But all I can focus on is one deeply concerning realization: People can tell.

Maybe not everything. Not the history. Not the one night six months ago. Not the almost kisses or the late-night texts.

But enough to notice. Enough to talk.

And if strangers are noticing?

Eventually, Holt definitely will.

My phone buzzes again.