Tides of Discovery (Seacliff Cove #3)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Jack

The morning light spilled through the sparkling-clean front windows of The Coffee Cove, turning the exposed brick walls into shades of russet and copper.

I’d claimed my usual spot: by the windows, at the corner table where decades of coffee mugs and water rings scarred the wood.

From here, I could see the entire length of the narrow shop, all the way to the polished espresso machine that gleamed like a steampunk spaceship.

I tapped away on my phone, pretending to focus on the email I’d been “writing” for twenty minutes. In reality, my attention kept drifting to the man behind the counter.

My best friend, Cooper McKay.

I’d been in love with him since our college days.

Since those late nights at Brewed Awakening when he’d slide experimental coffee concoctions across the counter and challenge me to guess the ingredients.

Since those post-midnight study sessions where he’d quiz me on coding principles while I tried not to get lost in his green eyes.

Since the day I realized no 4.0 would ever match the victory I felt when I made him laugh.

Cooper moved with precision, and his long fingers danced across the espresso machine with the confidence of a concert pianist. A strand of his dark hair fell onto his forehead as he leaned forward to steam milk, and he pushed it up with the back of his hand—a gesture so familiar to me I could have drawn it from memory.

The muscles in his forearm flexed beneath the sleeve of his black Henley as he tamped down the coffee grounds.

When he smiled at a customer, my heart did that stupid little skip it always performed. His smile was open and friendly, like his face couldn’t quite contain the warmth behind it.

This was my daily quest: watch Cooper work while pretending I wasn’t watching Cooper work.

A customer stepped up to the counter—Mrs. Abernathy, eighty-something with a cloud of white hair. Before she opened her mouth, Cooper was already reaching for a mug.

“Large decaf vanilla latte?” he asked, genuine kindness in his voice.

“You’re a good man, always remembering my favorite.” Mrs. Abernathy paid for her coffee. “How’s that brother of yours doing?”

“Ryan’s great. His little girl just started kindergarten—already reading,” he said with pride. He adored his niece and spoiled her like he was her favorite uncle.

Okay, he was her only uncle. But still….

My fingers hovered over my phone, frozen in the act of feigning work.

Cooper’s devotion to his family always warmed my chest. Despite his strained relationship with his parents, his love for his brother and niece remained his emotional anchor.

As an only child whose parents had both died, I’d always envied the unbreakable bond Cooper shared with his brother.

The morning rush was in full swing when Cooper’s frustrated “No, no, no” reached me.

I looked up and caught him jabbing at the point-of-sale terminal with increasing agitation. A line of customers waited, expressions shifting from patience to concern. Cooper’s face flushed pink, his usually confident demeanor replaced by barely contained panic.

“Sorry, folks,” Cooper called, his voice steady despite the anxiety clear in the tight lines around his mouth. “We’re having some technical difficulties. Bear with us a moment.”

I was on my feet before I’d made the conscious decision to move. This was something I could fix, a tangible way to show I…cared.

“Let me take a look?” I slid behind the counter.

Cooper glanced at me with a mix of relief and embarrassment. “You don’t have to—”

“It’s my wheelhouse, remember?” I kept my tone light as I nudged him aside. I pushed my glasses up my nose. “Take cash orders in the meantime. I’ll get this running again.” The screen showed an error message I’d seen too many times in my line of work. Oh, shit.

“When’s the last time you updated the security on this system?” I asked quietly.

“I don’t know. Ben set it up before we…you know. Maybe a year ago?”

The ex who’d broken his heart ten months ago. I pushed away the flare of jealousy and focused on the problem.

My fingers flew across the screen, and I accessed the system through a backdoor method.

What I found made my stomach clench. This wasn’t a simple crash.

There were clear signs of intrusion—sophisticated ones, at that.

Someone had deliberately compromised the system, intending to cripple Cooper’s business.

“Can you fix it?” Cooper peered over my shoulder.

I nodded, not wanting to worry him with my suspicions. “Give me a few minutes.”

Cooper switched seamlessly to manual processing, writing orders in his bold handwriting and making change from the register drawer.

“Sorry about the wait, folks,” he said, raising his voice. “We appreciate your patience.”

Several people had already left, either not having cash or unwilling to wait through the technical issue. With each departure, Cooper’s smile tightened further, though I doubted anyone else would notice the difference.

I worked quickly and brought the system back online. Something about the intrusion pattern felt familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. I’d need more time to investigate properly.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Cooper said when the POS came back to life. The relief in his voice was palpable.

“Just a temporary fix,” I warned. “We’ll need to do a complete security overhaul later.”

Cooper winced. “How much will that cost?”

“For you?” I met his worried gaze directly.

“Jack…” Cooper started, his voice full of warning. The furrow between his brows deepened in that stubborn expression I’d known since our sophomore days.

“A cup of coffee.” I shrugged as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

He shook his head in frustration, but said, “Thank you. What would I do without you?”

I hoped he would never have to find out. The thought of not being part of Cooper’s life made my gut twist in a way no cybersecurity emergency ever could.

With the crisis averted, Cooper returned to serving customers with his usual charm, and I returned to my seat.

The bell above the door jingled as someone entered, bringing with them a gust of chilly early-January air. I shivered and hunched deeper into my jacket. Seacliff Cove winters weren’t harsh compared to other parts of the country, but the coastal dampness had a way of seeping into my bones.

I glanced up instinctively as Ryan and his daughter entered. The family resemblance was striking—Ryan and Cooper were both strong-jawed, model-worthy men.

Cooper was completely out of my league.

Ryan nodded toward me with a smile of recognition. “Oh. Hey, Jack.”

I returned the greeting with a wave, trying to look like I’d been focused on my email and not staring at Cooper. Ryan and I had met several times since I’d moved to Seacliff Cove last spring. Recently divorced, he was friendly but reserved.

Lily bounced beside Ryan, a tiny bundle of energy in unicorn leggings and a puffy pink coat. “Uncle Cooper!” She broke free from her father’s hand and raced toward the counter, her sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor.

Cooper’s entire demeanor changed, his professional barista stance melting into something softer as he came around the counter and scooped Lily into a hug. “Hey, munchkin! What are you doing here on a school day?”

“Teacher conference. Thought we’d stop by,” Ryan said, and approached his brother at a more reasonable pace than Lily’s.

“I made this for you!” Lily waved a piece of paper.

Cooper released her and examined the drawing with exaggerated seriousness. “This is your best work yet. It’s going right on the wall of fame.”

Cooper immediately went to the wall behind the counter, where several other masterpieces already hung, and carefully taped the new addition with reverence.

My phone pinged with an incoming email, an urgent request from a client in New York. The joys of being a remote cybersecurity analyst—there was always a time zone with an emergency. I sent a quick reply promising to look into their issue, but my mind kept returning to Cooper.

Moving to Seacliff Cove last spring had been the most terrifying decision of my life.

I’d pitched it to myself as a practical decision: escape the Silicon Valley pressure cooker for small-town living, find a supportive community of friends, and settle somewhere quiet to work remotely.

But the truth burned in my chest: I’d moved here to be near Cooper.

Cooper’s hand hovered over a cookie in the case, and he raised an eyebrow. Ryan nodded. Cooper handed the treat to Lily, whose eyes lit up as she grabbed it with a “Thanks!” She chomped into it, and chocolate crumbs clung to her lips. “Caramel latte?” he asked Ryan.

“Sounds good,” Ryan replied, then lowered his voice. The shop had nearly cleared out, but he still seemed to want privacy. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the shift in tone was instant.

Cooper’s relaxed posture stiffened. His smile remained, but it no longer reached his eyes. He busied himself making Ryan’s drink while Lily happily crunched on her cookie, oblivious to the tension between the adults.

I tried not to eavesdrop, but in the narrow confines of the coffee shop, snippets of conversation drifted my way.

“…birthday dinner next Friday…will be there, but it would mean a lot…”

“…haven’t changed, Ryan.”

“…for Lily…”

Cooper’s jaw tightened as he handed Ryan his coffee. His brother placed a hand on Cooper’s shoulder, saying something that made Cooper sigh and nod reluctantly.

I absentmindedly tapped on my phone, typing nonsense as I watched the scene unfold.

This was clearly about Cooper’s parents.

Cooper rarely talked about them, but I knew enough to understand that their relationship had fractured when he came out during college.

The few times he mentioned them, his entire demeanor would change—his easy confidence replaced by something guarded and brittle.