Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Cade
Being with Missy was as easy as breathing.
Soon after her father’s visit, I somehow convinced her to come home with me every night instead of dropping her off at her door.
Well, I didn’t convince her so much as it just sort of happened.
Maybe because I showed up at the bakery every night after hours and sat with her while she worked.
I even helped, or tried to help, her fill special orders.
The bakery closed at five each day and she worked to fill orders until six or seven. I usually wrapped up my workdays around five-thirty, so the timing worked. Too well.
Most nights I showed up with food. Other nights, if she wasn’t buried under frosting and deadlines, we’d lock up and walk down the street for dinner somewhere. Easy. Comfortable. Like this was something we’d always done.
Before I knew it, a whole week had gone by with her sleeping at my place. It was a dream come true.
That illusion shattered the next morning.
I pulled into Harbor Ridge just after sunrise with my coffee still hot in my hand.
I was mentally running through the day’s schedule in my head.
The model home was supposed to be ready for its final inspection by the end of the week.
I had scheduled a home design company to come in and fill the place with furniture to showcase the beauty of it the following week.
I almost drove right by it, but when I noticed the door hanging wide open, I slammed on my brakes.
My gut tightened as I got out of the truck. There were no other trucks or cars around, and I knew that my workers wouldn’t be showing up for at least another half hour.
Inside, the place was chaos. Electrical cables stuck out through the drywall, their copper ends exposed like burst veins. Water pooled across the new flooring, spreading from a pipe that had punctured the drywall.
This wasn’t an accident.
I trusted my workers and knew none of them would do this. Hell, no worker I’d ever hired would risk their livelihood pulling a stunt like this.
This was intentional. Careful. Angry.
Levi.
I was shaking with anger. I shut off the power and water, and after a few moments I finally settled down and started thinking.
There was no proof. I hadn’t installed cameras. Hell, I didn’t even have security on site who could prove anything.
Once I was calm, I called my crews and rerouted their entire morning plans.
Shortly after they arrived, I had them start on damage control.
As soon as things were moving, I drove straight into town and bought every security and trail camera the hardware store had in stock.
It wasn’t ideal, but it was fast. And right now, fast mattered more than perfect.
By midmorning, I was back on site, climbing a ladder and securing the first camera to a tree that overlooked the access road. I was tightening the last bolt when my phone rang.
My dad.
I almost ignored the call. Almost.
“Yeah,” I said, bracing myself as I answered.
“Cade.” My father’s voice was sharp, clipped, already irritated. Hell, he sounded like that all the time lately. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”
“I’ve been working,” I replied, shifting my weight on the rung.
“That’s exactly the problem,” he snapped. “You’re wasting your time up there. My son in construction? This is not what you were raised for.”
I closed my eyes briefly as I counted to three. “I wasn’t raised to live someone else’s life either,” I pointed out.
“You were raised to one day take over the family company, just like I was,” he shot back. “Walker Investments needs leadership, not someone playing contractor in the woods.”
I laughed once, humorless. “You’ve never been to Silver Cove. You don’t even know what I’m building up here.”
“I don’t need to see it firsthand, son.” Somehow he always made the word son sound like a curse word. “You’re throwing away a major opportunity, and power.”
God, he sounded just like Missy’s father.
“I don’t need or want power. What I’m building out here goes beyond that,” I said, my grip tightening on the ladder. “Families are going to live here. Kids are going to grow up here. I built that. That matters to me more than titles or dollar signs.”
“What matters,” he said coldly, “is legacy.”
“No,” I said quietly. “What matters is choice.”
There was a beat of silence. Then, sharper, “And what about her?”
I stiffened. “Who?”
“Don’t insult me,” he said. “Missy Sharpe. I’ve heard things.”
Of course he had.
“She’s my business,” I said flatly.
“She’s a distraction, always has been,” he countered. “Her family is a mess right now. Her father’s reputation alone…” He sighed. “You want to make sure you steer clear of what’s coming down the pipe in that area.”
I wanted to ask what my father knew but knew better than to open that can of worms. Instead, I warned, “Missy doesn’t have anything to do with her parents’ problems. Just like I’m not part of yours.”
“You think aligning yourself with that chaos is smart?” he pressed, as if he hadn’t heard me. “You think her parents would ever accept someone like you, someone choosing the slow life? I raised you to be smarter than that.”
I felt something snap. Clean. Final.
“I don’t care what they accept,” I said. “And I don’t care what you think anymore. I haven’t for years. I’m living my own life. We’re choosing how our futures go.”
“That’s a mistake,” he said.
“No,” I replied. “Taking this call was the only mistake I’ve made in a while.”
I hung up before he could say another word and slid my phone back into my pocket as it began to ring again. My hands were shaking slightly, not with doubt but with anger.
I climbed down and looked out over the whole job site. This little neighborhood, the many different homes in various stages of construction, this wasn’t a waste.
Neither was Missy.
And if someone thought they could scare me off, whether it was my father or Levi or anyone else, they were about to learn just how wrong they were.
It wasn’t just the model home that had been hit.
Lot four had a busted junction box. The cover had been ripped clean off and wires yanked out. Lot seven had a punctured pipe, just enough to flood the crawlspace without making it obvious right away. They were all small things on their own. All fixable.
But together?
The list of repairs set us back a full damn week. Not to mention the costs.
I stood in the middle of the muddy street at Harbor Ridge with my hands on my hips, staring down the row of half-finished houses and feeling that familiar mix of anger and responsibility settle into my bones.
There was no doubt in my mind who had done the damage.
By the time I finally shut down the last generator and sent my guys home, my patience was shot and my stomach was eating itself alive.
After I cleaned and locked everything up as best I could without actual security at the place yet, I climbed into my truck.
Instead of going straight into town, I headed toward the rental that Missy had mentioned Levi had stayed at last time, a massive gray house that sat just outside the historic district.
The driveway, however, was empty and all the lights were off.
I sat there for a minute anyway with my engine idling. Was he in there?
Pulling out my cell phone, I scanned Levi’s social media pages.
The guy never drank a cup of coffee without making a video of it.
He had a few thousand followers who always said exactly what he wanted to hear.
He masked legal advice with enough sarcasm that spiteful people flocked to his videos for the thrill of seeing people being hurt.
In the past two days, there was nothing posted on any of his accounts.
Nothing showing that he’d traveled to Silver Cove.
The last post he’d done was dinner in Boston at some very expensive looking place.
He’d been wearing a black suit and talking about a legal case he was working on.
I was slightly surprised how many photos he had with him and Missy’s dad.
They golfed together a lot now that Gerald was rumored to be living just outside of Boston.
Feeling slightly disgusted, I spent the next forty-five minutes circling town like a bloodhound with a bad temper.
I drove by every hotel and all of the short-term rentals that I knew about.
I even went by the bed and breakfast that had opened a few months back near the water.
I checked parking lots that I knew he’d used.
Nothing. His car was not in town. I even went by all the restaurants, just in case.
By the time I gave up, the sky had turned that deep indigo that meant night was settling in for real. My head was pounding. I hadn’t eaten since I’d had a granola bar sometime around noon, and my mood matched my blood sugar.
So I went to the one place I knew would steady me, physically and mentally.
Sweet Expectations.
The kitchen lights were still on when I pulled up. I sent her a text and she opened the back door for me a moment later.
She looked as good as she smelled. Her hair was pulled up as usual, and her sleeves were pushed up like she’d been in the middle of something that mattered.
When I kissed her, she melted against me.
And just like that, the edge inside me dulled.
“Hey,” she said gently. “You look… exhausted.”
“I feel worse than I look,” I admitted, letting her go. “Please tell me you’re almost done.”
She glanced toward the back, then nodded. “Five more minutes. Do you want to eat here, or do you want to escape?”
“Escape,” I said immediately. “Preferably somewhere we can do takeout.”
She laughed, soft and familiar. “Chinese?”
“You know me too well.”
We closed up together, and ten minutes later we were picking up takeout and heading back to my place. I barely remembered the drive. My body was running on muscle memory and stubbornness.
Normally, once we got home, I’d head straight for whatever project I was in the middle of—trim, cabinets, sanding, something. Missy would perch somewhere nearby with a glass of wine or a cup of tea, reading or talking while I worked.
Tonight?
I didn’t even pretend.
I kicked off my boots, dropped onto the couch, and exhaled like I’d been holding my breath all day.
She handed me a container of lo mein and sat beside me. “Long day?”
I snorted. “You could say that.”
I filled her in while we ate about how someone was deliberately targeting my sites and finished the story with how I’d installed cameras. I didn’t say Levi’s name, but I didn’t have to.
She said it for me.
“Do you think it was him?”
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I do.”
“I don’t get it. For months after we broke up, nothing. Not even a peep from him.” Her mouth tightened as anger flashed across her face before she reined it in. “I hate that he’s doing this. I hate that he won’t just leave us alone.”
“So do I.” I reached for her hand without thinking, our fingers fitting together like they always had. “But I’ll handle it. One way or another.”
“Why? I mean, he seems to think he’ll get something out of it. My dad’s begging me to ask for more money from my mother. Do you think Levi’s parents are hounding him to get back together with me?”
I shrugged, thinking about my conversation with my own father earlier. “Parents with means can be determined.”
She leaned her head against my shoulder. “He’s bound to lose interest, right?”
I nodded, feeling suddenly very tired.
We finished eating and stacked the containers on the coffee table. Missy reached for the remote.
“How about a movie?” she asked.
I didn’t argue. I pulled a blanket over us and stretched out on the couch with her tucked against my side. Five minutes into the movie, rain started tapping softly against the windows. I felt her relax inch by inch, and somewhere in the middle of the movie, my exhaustion finally won.
I rested my cheek against the top of her head, breathing in the faint scent of sugar and vanilla that clung to her clothes. God, I loved that smell.
God, I loved her.
I drifted off into a dream filled with memories and Missy.