Page 91 of At First Catch

The second is to ask if she remembered to eat too.

“I’m adaptable.”

A smile pulls at her mouth.

The sight nearly ruins me before nine o’clock.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d find the note.”

“I’m deeply resourceful.”

“Mm.”

I point at her. “You’re not allowed to make that sound now, too.”

She laughs.

And there it is again: that impossible warmth spreading through my chest every time I pull that sound from her.

God help me, I want this all the time.

Hadley steps closer then.

“You busy?” she asks.

“Trying to be.”

“That sounds unsuccessful.”

“You’re distracting.”

A crimson flush creeps up her neck, painting her cheeks before vanishing as quickly as it appeared.

Good.

At least I’m not suffering alone.

The marina moves around us steadily while workers carry lumber farther down the western dock and tourists wander near the bait shop.

But the space around Hadley and me feels strangely separate from all of it as if the entire world shrank after yesterday’s kiss and forgot to expand again.

Her fingers brush lightly against mine when she hands me the permit paperwork. A shiver traces its way down my spine, leaving goose bumps in its wake as my fingers brush against his.

Neither of us pulls away, and I can’t help but notice when Hadley’s breath catches. I clear my throat roughly and step back before I do something reckless in front of the entire marina.

She steps back. I miss the closeness. The clarity hits so fast it almost knocks the breath out of me.

Holt’s truck turns into the parking lot, and everything changes. Hadley freezes beside me, and my pulse kicks hard once with adrenaline and anxiety.

Because, judging by the narrowing of Holt Wright’s eyes the second he spots us standing too close together, our time before this becomes everybody’s business may officially be running out.

Chapter Eleven

HADLEY

The second Holt’s truck pulls into the marina lot, every survival instinct I possess activates.

Which is unfortunate.