Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Missy
By the time Friday afternoon rolled around, I was running on caffeine, adrenaline, and the stubborn determination not to look too excited about the trip I was about to take. It was just one night at a resort. A work trip for Cade. A getaway for me.
This was not a date.
Definitely not a date.
I kept repeating that as I locked up the bakery and stepped outside just in time to see Cade’s truck pull up to the curb.
He hopped out before I could wave and walked around to grab my overnight bag from my hand like it weighed nothing.
“Are you ready?” he asked. His voice was casual. His eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses and totally unreadable.
“As I’ll ever be,” I said, forcing a smile.
He smirked like he didn’t quite believe me, but he held the truck door for me anyway.
In the past two days, Levi had been persistently present every day in the bakery. I had been able to avoid him for the most part by staying in the back during work hours.
Still, he practically camped out front, looking annoyed as he talked on the phone.
After hours, he would come back and knock on the door. Now, though, I knew better than to open it.
To ward off his determination, Cade became even more available.
I hadn’t asked him to step in. I didn’t have to. Cade had this quiet radar when it came to me, he had since we were little. He’d stop by before closing with some flimsy excuse about needing bread or wanting to check if I needed anything fixed, which was code for Is Levi bothering you again?
And Levi must’ve known that, because the moment he caught sight of Cade behind the counter one evening, he’d stormed back out the door like a man who’d lost a competition he hadn’t realized he was in.
But he didn’t stay gone.
Levi started lingering outside on the sidewalk, pretending he was on the phone, pretending he just happened to be there.
He sent flowers, twice, which I refused to bring inside.
He left notes on the back door or on my car, long rambling pages full of apologies, promises, and subtle digs that made my stomach twist.
I was thankful he didn’t have my new cell number. At least my parents hadn’t crossed that line and given it to him. Yet.
His notes were filled with little reminders of our college days, of the way he’d rewritten arguments to make them my fault, of how easily I used to fold.
It was exhausting.
And embarrassing.
And if I was honest, frightening in that quiet, creeping way that made you second-guess every shadow in your peripheral vision.
Every time the back door rattled from a knock, my heart leapt, half hoping it was Cade, half terrified it wasn’t. Thankfully, Cade started texting me when he was going to stop by so I knew it was him.
Still, Cade never asked for details. Never pushed me to talk. He just stayed close, giving me space while still being methodically, stubbornly present.
Which, somehow, made me feel safer and more exposed at the same time.
The drive to the dock only took about two minutes, just long enough for the silence between us to feel noticeable, but not long enough for either of us to risk shattering it.
The docks were busier than I expected as the resort staff hauled fresh produce and crates toward the waiting ferry.
“Sarah warned me that today was employee swap day.” He shrugged. “I guess I hadn’t really thought about the dynamics of the lives of the people who worked there.”
“They have their own building,” I chimed in. “Sarah told me the first time I stayed there. There is a whole building dedicated to staff apartments. Some employees stay weeks at a time, others just days. Either way, anyone who works there has a place to stay while they are there.”
He nodded as he hauled our bags toward the ferry.
Standing in the wheelhouse of the boat was the last person anyone would expect to see operating a small-town transport vessel.
JT Whistler, yes, that JT Whistler, the best-selling author of some of the spookiest thriller books and movies to be released in the past five years. JT was Cora’s older brother, and Cora was my sister-in-law, so that would make us somehow related. Right?
JT and his wife, the famous actress Emma Wilder, and their children, Sophia and Liam, were a staple in the bakery now.
The man stepped out onto the deck with a grin big enough to be seen from shore.
“Well, well,” he called down to us. “Are you here to fix something else that I managed to break?”
Cade chuckled. “Not this time. Sarah’s got a long list for me at the resort though. She’s put us up for the night to compensate.”
JT’s eyes landed on me, bright and mischievous.
“That sounds fun.” He walked over and lightly hugged me.
The last time I’d seen him, he’d been trying to wrangle his kids in the bakery.
“Sophia and Liam are begging me to take them to your place tomorrow for donuts.” He rolled his eyes.
“I swear since you opened up, my kids have become addicted to your donuts.”
I laughed. “Sorry, not sorry.”
“So, is there something going on here?” JT joked, nudging me as he wiggled his eyebrows.
My face flushed instantly.
Cade groaned. “Please ignore anything he says.” He turned to JT. “You know that Missy and I are best friends.”
“Ah, that’s right.” He crossed his arms like he was meeting a celebrity. “I’m just messing around with you. Rumors were swirling about a man buying you flowers.”
“My ex,” I admitted. “Who will remain so.”
I turned to Cade, who looked like he wanted to throw JT into the ocean.
Cade muttered. “Don’t ask. We’re keeping him at bay.”
JT nodded. “Come on aboard.”
We followed him up the ramp. The ferry was beautifully maintained with fresh white paint, polished brass rails, and neatly coiled ropes. JT didn’t do anything halfway.
We settled onto one of the side benches as the ferry rumbled to life. The wind carried the scent of saltwater and pine, and it was cool as it lifted the hair from my neck, despite the sun that was still high enough in the sky to warm us.
“So,” JT said as he steered one-handed, “big weekend plans over there at East Haven. They’ve got some fancy event going on. VIP stuff. I hope they won’t get in your way. Some of them can be a little… dramatic.”
Cade snorted. “We’ll keep out of their way, that’s for sure.”
“Cade has done some good work out at my place too,” JT said proudly. “The man can rewire a hundred-year-old house without cussing once. Which I consider very impressive.”
“Oh, he cusses plenty,” I said. “Usually at me.”
JT roared with laughter.
Cade nudged my knee with his. “Only when you deserve it.”
The warmth of the touch lingered a little too long. Or maybe I just wanted it to.
We fell quiet for a moment as the boat picked up speed. The mainland shrank behind us, and ahead, rising from the misty blue horizon, the island came into view.
My breath caught. I’d forgotten how wonderful the resort was. East Haven wasn’t just beautiful, it was storybook beautiful.
A sprawling white colonial manor sat perched above the rocky shoreline, as crisp and pristine as fresh icing. Beyond it stretched manicured lawns, gardens as big as football fields, and glimpses of golf greens rolling toward the far cliffs.
To the left, I spotted shimmering flashes of the swimming pool. To the right, soft golden sand curved around a private beach that was dotted with white umbrellas and lounge chairs.
A handful of guests were out enjoying the waters or soaking up what little sun was peeking through the clouds.
The whole island felt untouched by time, like someone had captured the best parts of a classic New England postcard and built a paradise from it.
“Wow,” I breathed.
Cade glanced over, a half smile tugging at his mouth. “Yeah, I always forget how impressive it is.”
“It looks like a place where royalty vacations,” I mumbled.
JT added, “The rich like their privacy. And their lobster rolls.”
The boat slowed as we approached the long wooden dock stretching out from the island. Staff in crisp uniforms waited with a gold cart, ready to help unload supplies and guests, which happened to only be us.
Cade stood and reached for my bag, pausing just a second too long as our fingers brushed.
“You good?” he asked softly.
I nodded, even though something fluttered wildly in my chest. Excitement? Nerves? Or something more dangerous? Like knowing that I would be spending so much time around Cade.
But despite my wobbly internal battle, I followed him off the ferry and onto the island.
We were welcomed and escorted into a waiting golf cart, which then headed up the smooth, winding path toward the resort.
As we rode under a canopy of ancient oaks strung with soft white lights, I knew, deep down in that quiet place where denial couldn’t reach, that this was going to be a weekend I’d never forget.
The last time I’d stayed here, I’d spent my lonely days lounging by the pool, eating room-service macarons and pretending my problems didn’t exist. Cora had arranged for my and Max’s stay at the resort shortly after my graduation and breakup with Levi.
I’d been in a bad spot back then, having just broken things off. My parents had been pissed at me.
They didn’t care that I’d caught him cheating.
They’d never say it out loud, but they liked him. They liked his family. His future career. His connections. His spotless reputation.
I wasn’t supposed to ruin the picture they’d painted for me for their friends.
The minute I broke up with him for good, my parents’ purse strings had closed, even after I’d proved he’d cheated. According to my father, it was permanent unless I got back in line. In his mind that meant getting back with Levi and forgetting all about my own dreams.
If that was how love worked in their world, I didn’t want it.
It had taken me months to realize the truth: I wasn’t disappointed in their lack of support… I was disappointed in their kind of love. Performative. Convenient. Conditional.
I wanted loyalty.