Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
HARPER
The pool deck gleamed in the midday light, the custom leaf-motif finish still crisp.
Even a month ago, this place had been chaos incarnate—cracked tile underfoot, work crews tramping through puddles, my nerves wound tight enough to snap.
Today, there was almost peace in the rhythm of progress. It was similar to the peace filling me.
The air carried the clean scent of new concrete, distant salt, and a hint of whatever Braden was cooking up at Tropical Hops. Where once demolition crews had trailed dust through my dreams, there was only the hum of a drill, a bird call, a half-buried laugh from the parking lot.
Around us, garden beds arched in half-complete curves where sandy soil waited for native shrubs and new palms. Out beyond the deck, Room Block One was once again underway, shoring crew hard at work and the whole renovation back on track with the infusion of cash, thanks to my wonderful, resourceful man.
The white paint of the new bungalows down at the end of the beach glowed in the afternoon sun.
Chase walked beside me, arm just close enough to brush mine every few steps, posture easy. He caught my eye as I stared out over the pool, offered a half-smile that made something happy twist in my chest.
We didn’t say much, surveying the cabanas and the sweep of the pool edge. There was too much to look at. Every so often, he’d rest a hand on the small of my back, slow and sure, the touch electric in its casualness.
“Feels different now, doesn’t it?” he murmured as we studied the final inspection sheet tacked near the pool bar.
“Like we finally turned the corner.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and glanced at him sideways. “Bet you never thought you’d be elbows deep in so much contractor drama.”
“Or living with someone whose idea of organization is a stack of three color-coded clipboards for every room.”
I bumped him with my shoulder, grateful for his teasing. “Like you’re any better. I’ve seen how you organize your side of the closet.”
The past few weeks had been a blur of moving boxes, early mornings, and late-night sorting—Chase settling in, us finding our rhythms in life and at work.
It turned out blending households was a bit of a dance when one of you was a serial minimalist and the other could never part with anything Finn had ever colored.
The sale of his house had proceeded without a hitch, and we’d obtained all necessary signatures to increase his partnership to thirty-five percent with the extra capital he was committing to the renovation.
My cottage was a bit cozier now, and my joke about buying a bigger place might become reality at some point soon. Especially since we’d had to put his gorgeous mahogany desk into storage for the moment. Too many good memories there to hide away in the dark.
The sharp edge of anxiety that had lived in me for too long, the perpetual hum that something else might go wrong, had finally faded to a manageable buzz.
Even the clouds that gathered above the trees looked more decorative than threatening, and I could actually hear myself breathing again.
Maybe that was just what relief sounded like—wind, hammers, and the burble of water on tile.
I let myself enjoy it, for just a moment.
This improbable, hard-earned quiet. The truth was, Chase fit into our days so smoothly I almost forgot it was new.
It was the way he squeezed into the kitchen, dodging Finn’s plastic trucks, or the way his laugh filled up spaces I’d never known were empty.
Finn had accepted him without reservation, treating him like he was the best present on Christmas morning.
I didn’t realize I was smiling to myself until Chase leaned in, eyebrow arched. “You’re making that face again.”
“Which one?”
He grinned. “The happy one. Keep it up.”
The familiar sound of footsteps—deliberate, heavy, confident—saved me from replying.
Austin appeared at the corner of the pool deck, hands shoved in his pockets, resort baseball hat pushed back, eyes sharp behind that ever-present dark stubble.
I could tell by the lack of furrow between his brows that today was—if not a good day—a decent one.
He nodded to Chase, then to me, squinting at the pool and the just-laid sod. For a long beat, he took it in, arms crossed, expression as unreadable as ever.
“Looks sharp, Ashworth,” he said, low and just a little gravelly. “You kept the feel of the place but really brought it into this century instead of last.” A rare compliment, handed out like a trust fall.
Chase’s ears went pink—subtle, but I knew. “That was the goal. Blend the new with the old. Appreciate it, man.”
Austin nodded, gaze flitting between us as if registering something about the way we stood a touch too close. But he didn’t comment. Instead, his eyes crinkled at the corners and a faint smile raised his lips, the closest thing to amusement you’d get from my younger brother.
He used to be so different…
I sighed and let the thought go. Austin was what events had made him, and we were all grateful he was still with us.
He looked my way. “Have you blocked Ben from your contacts yet?”
I rolled my eyes skyward even as I laughed.
“Thinking about it. Who would have thought our big brother would be such a Chatty Cathy? A group text including the world’s biggest PASS notification followed fifty exclamation points.
Plus a selfie so blurry I had to squint sideways to confirm it was truly his grinning face. ”
Austin’s mouth twitched, unmistakable pride in the set of his shoulders. “Aces the exam but still can’t hold a phone steady.”
Chase nodded. “I knew he could do it.”
I grinned, letting some of the old sibling mischief take over. “Now that Ben officially passed his EMT certification test, he’s waiting for the state paperwork to start at Dove Key Fire Department.”
“Not bad for the family wild card.” Chase was impressed, and a little surge of pride wormed its way into my grin. If anyone had earned this win, it was Ben.
Austin snorted. “Maybe now he’ll let someone else fix a lawn edger for once.”
A wind gust rolled off the gulf, tugging at my skirt. I shivered a little, not from cold, but from the unexpected peace. This was the kind of day I’d been desperate for—the family moving forward, the resort steady, Chase at my side.
Austin tipped his chin, brow furrowing as he sized us up. “Right. Speaking of things paying off… Seems you two agreed to a fishing trip on Line Dancer a while back. Haven’t forgotten, have you?”
I groaned, half-laughing. “We didn’t forget. I just figured you’d be too busy with the new bookings.”
Chase slung an arm around my shoulders, squeezing. “We’re ready when you are. Name the time.”
I thought for a moment. “Maybe a sunset trip? That way it won’t mess with your scheduled charters. And Finn could come, too. He’s been begging for another adventure with Uncle Austin.”
Austin considered, jaw working. “Saturday evening looks clear. Meet at the dock around five?”
“Works for us,” I said, already picturing Finn’s excitement.
Austin nodded again, an odd softness in his eyes, then started back toward the marina, whistling under his breath.
Chase watched him go, then squeezed my hip. “Sunset cruise with the family,” he murmured, low and private. “Sounds perfect.”
I leaned into him, letting the solid weight of his arm steady me. “It does. Amazing how things have changed.”
“And all for the better,” he said quietly, brushing the hair from my forehead. “Hey, promise me something. Whenever you feel like you’re drowning in the chaos? Look for me. I’ll be right there to pull you out.”
He pressed a kiss to my temple, and a gentle, warm light filled me.
I let myself look out over the sunlit pool, past the now-back-on-track room block.
There was challenge ahead. There always would be.
But today, I felt only hope. Saturday, the family, the open water—and whatever the next tide brought us. I was ready to welcome it all.
The line between afternoon and evening blurred in a honey-gold wash across the bay, sunlight flickering off the waves and scattering the boat’s shadow in broken pieces on the water.
I leaned back against the railing, the soft thrum of the engine and the clean, briny sweep of ocean air carving out a space that felt entirely its own.
Part workday, part private celebration. Finn bounced at my elbow, life vest snug, the empty tool belt strapped around his waist. He insisted on wearing it whenever possible, especially after he and Chase agreed to build a birdhouse together.
On Line Dancer, everything had its place.
Tackle boxes were sorted by size and species, rods were propped neatly and securely, and Austin’s meticulous touch was visible in the coiled dock lines and polished deck.
The air smelled like salt, engine oil, and sunblock.
Waves slapped gently at the hull, rocking us just enough that time seemed to slip sideways.
Austin manned the helm, hands wrapped around the wheel, sunglasses perched on his nose. I loved seeing him so relaxed—the infamous wall of silence eased by sunset, water, and family. Out here, he didn’t need to talk much. The boat and the sea did the heavy lifting.
Thank God he hadn’t lost that too.
I fussed with Finn’s hair, fingers tucking loose strands under his cap as he waited not so patiently for his uncle to place the boat where he wanted it so the fishing could begin.
Just then, Austin called over, “All right, Finn. Let’s get this show on the road. Time you learned to cast like you mean it.”
Finn beamed and hurried forward, the tool belt thumping with each step. “Okay, Uncle Austin!”