Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Missy
Spring arrived in Silver Cove like it had been holding its breath the past few months, waiting for permission to finally bloom.
Bright, cheerful, colorful flowers were everywhere in town.
It was as if everyone was competing for the most colorful display.
I was no exception. Cade and I spent an entire Sunday building and filling new flower beds in front of the store and his place.
For the bakery, I kept the colors simple, pastel pinks, greens, and blues. For his house, we picked blues and yellows.
I felt the warmth of spring everywhere—on my skin, in my chest, in the way I woke up smiling for no reason other than the fact that life felt… good. Steady. Full.
How had life ever been fun before this?
My work, my friendships, my personal life, and yes, the sex, had all fallen into an easy rhythm that didn’t feel forced or borrowed from someone else’s expectations. It felt like mine.
I wasn’t officially living with Cade.
Not yet.
But pieces of me had quietly migrated over without either of us making a big deal about it.
A toothbrush appeared next to his. Then my face wash.
My moisturizer. A razor, because the man apparently believed in a minimalist approach to grooming that stopped at body wash and shampoo.
My long, tangly hair had staged a rebellion after one night of that nonsense.
He hadn’t complained. In fact, I thought he liked having my things around.
Most nights, I ended up at his place after closing the bakery. Sometimes we cooked. Sometimes we picked up food and ate on the floor because whatever room he was working on had furniture shoved into the corners. I’d sit on the counter or a stepladder, handing him tools, watching him work.
I loved watching him work.
Cade was meticulous. Slow. Thoughtful. He measured twice, cut once, and still stepped back to study his work like it might whisper secrets to him if he waited long enough. He worked as if he was savoring each move, like finishing meant the end of something, not the beginning.
This weekend, though, there would be no work, just water, sun, and friends, thanks to an invite from Lilly to join them and some other friends on their sailboat.
We met down at the marina midmorning. The air was already warm but softened by a breeze rolling in off the water.
I had dug out my swimsuit, shorts, and tank tops from my boxes of things I had yet to unpack. Seeing myself in the mirror I was thankful I spent what time I had this winter doing Pilates. I could have used a spray tan, but at least I knew I wouldn’t be the only white-skinned person going.
Cade was wearing swim shorts and a tank top and looked at least ten shades darker than I was. When I pointed that fact out, he laughed and said it paid to work outdoors instead of in a kitchen.
Adam’s sailboat bobbed gently at the end of the dock. Its white hull was gleaming and the sails were neatly tied back. He and Lilly were already aboard, Adam stowing gear while Lilly arranged cushions and towels like she was setting a scene instead of packing a boat.
They had invited all of us for a daylong, kid-free sailing trip, including a lunch that Adam had put together. Who could pass that up? Why would you?
Cal and Bella arrived next, laughing about something private, followed closely by Sarah and Ben. Sarah was wearing oversized sunglasses and a flowing cover-up, and Ben carried a large cooler like it weighed nothing.
“We brought the drinks,” he cheered as he got help to bring the thing aboard.
Max showed up last, of course, with Cora right behind him. Both of them looked as if they’d just stepped out of some summer clothing magazine, with my brother in khaki shorts and a button-up shirt and loafers and Cora in a navy and white striped sundress with a big white sun hat.
This, this was my life now.
Once we were underway, I was handed a glass of champagne, then Sarah came by and added a splash of orange juice and some fruit in it. The women all congregated at the front of the sailboat and chatted while the men stood around Adam as he steered.
The boat headed up the coast, the shoreline slipping past us in a blur of rocky edges and evergreen trees as the wind filled the sails overhead. The water glittered under the sun, and I kicked off my sandals, curling my toes against the cool deck as Cade settled in beside me.
He leaned in, his arm warm against mine. Easy. Familiar. Safe.
If anyone here didn’t know about us before, they did now. Though I was pretty sure they had known for a while.
Besides, I was growing tired of hiding it from my friends. My true friends.
The sun felt like a physical weight on my shoulders, strong, warm, and comforting.
I took a sip of the mimosa and enjoyed the bubbles dancing in my mouth. Around me, the sailboat was a symphony of easy sounds: the rhythmic slap-slap of the hull hitting the chop, the snap of the canvas overhead as the wind claimed it, and the high, bright ring of my friends’ laughter.
I watched Lilly for a moment. She was moving around the deck with an effortless grace, smoothing a linen cloth over a basket of bread as if we were in the high-end resort she worked at rather than tilting at an angle on the open water.
She looked settled. Content. It made me realize how much I’d been bracing myself lately, waiting for the other shoe to drop with my family and with Levi.
Not only that, I had been waiting for the stress of the move or opening my own business to catch up to me.
But as the shoreline of rocky cliffs and stubborn evergreens continued to pass by, that tightness in my chest finally started to unfurl.
“You’re overthinking again,” Cade whispered near my ear.
His presence had a specific frequency, a low-thrumming energy that was my North Star.
“Was I?” I teased, looking over at him. The sun caught the gold in his eyes and the fine lines at the corners, earned from squinting at the horizon.
“I was actually thinking about how pale I am. I’m basically a lighthouse for the rest of the fleet.
” I motioned to everyone else on the boat.
All of them had a soft glow to their skin, including Lilly, who was as light-skinned as one could get.
Cade let out a low chuckle as his arm slid across the back of the seat, his thumb grazing the skin of my shoulder. “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘radiant.’ Besides, the day is young. By the time Adam turns this thing around, you’ll have a tan to match the rest of us.”
He was right. Besides, I bet Adam and Lilly had been going out on this sailboat all winter long. She was bound to get enough sun on the warmer days to make her shine.
“I think they all know about us now.” I whispered and glanced around. I mean, we were being chummy, but we had always been so.
Cade followed my gaze. “Does that bother you? Do you want to keep the secret still?”
I shrugged. “I’m sort of over it.” I smiled.
He shifted a little closer. “Good. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to keep our distance today. I really want to touch you.”
I melted as I leaned back, letting my head rest against his shoulder. The boat crested a larger swell, and a spray of mist kicked up over the bow, coating my skin in a fine, salty film. It was bracing and perfect.
Across the deck, I saw Max catch my eye again.
He was leaning against the mast with Cora tucked into his side, looking more relaxed than I’d seen him in years.
He gave me a small, knowing nod, a silent “I know what’s going on between you two and I’m happy for you” before turning back to whatever joke Ben was telling him.
I closed my eyes, letting the wind and the vibration of the waves underneath us drown out my lingering mental checklist. The smell of salt air and sunblock swirled around me. For today, I was just a girl on a boat with the man of my dreams beside me.
We traveled for almost an hour before the sails were closed up and we dropped anchor in a small cove area.
Adam had outdone himself with the picnic. There was fresh bread he’d made from scratch, cheeses, various fruits and smoked meats, and a cake wrapped carefully in parchment that Lilly guarded like a secret until later.
We ate sprawled across the deck, passing plates, laughing when the boat shifted and sent someone’s plate sliding.
At one point, Cade brushed his thumb along my knuckles absentmindedly, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. He had done this our whole lives, yet now it felt different. It was more than just a friendly touch.
I realized then, somewhere between the taste of sea air and the sound of Max joking with Ben about sail angles, that this was happiness without conditions. No one was asking me to be something I wasn’t or telling me what I should want out of life.
The sound of a cork popping drew cheers as the main dish was served.
“Alright, everyone,” Adam called out, his voice carrying easily over the wind. “The main course is served, poached salmon.”
My chef’s brain, which I had tried so hard to switch off, involuntarily started cataloging the aromas and tastes.
It was a beautiful spread: cold poached salmon with a creamy cucumber sauce, a vibrant orzo salad flecked with feta and kalamata olives, and a bowl of cherries so dark they looked like rubies.
I felt Cade shift beside me as he stood up to help pass plates. “Stay put,” he commanded gently, flashing a grin that made my stomach do a little flip that had nothing to do with the soft waves rocking the boat. “I’ve got you.”
He returned a moment later with two plates balanced expertly. As I took my first bite of the salmon, I let out a low moan of appreciation. It was perfectly flaked, chilled just enough to be refreshing against the midday heat.
“Don’t tell him it’s good,” Max yelled from the mast, his mouth half-full of bread. “His ego is already structural to the boat.”
Everyone laughed.