Chapter 50
Ethan
The Tavern is completely transformed. Fairy lights drape from the ceiling, and tables are set up for the silent auction, each one carefully arranged with donations from local businesses—everything from handmade jewelry to charter trips on the Freedom .
A live band plays on the stage, their music blending with the sound of laughter and conversation as the crowd swells. There’s a vibrant energy in the air, but as I look around, the knot of nerves in my stomach tightens.
I’m not usually one to get jittery. I’ve jumped out of planes, dived into rough seas, and faced a multitude of disasters . But tonight? Tonight’s different. This isn’t just a fundraiser. This is Blake’s dream, her heart, out there for everyone to see. I want it to be perfect for her.
I spot Liam weaving through the crowd, cutting through the sea of people. When he gets closer, he grins and gives me a fist bump. “Looking tense there,” he says with a laugh. “You got this.”
“Thanks,” I reply. “I’m just hoping everything goes as planned.”
He claps me on the shoulder. “It’s already a success. Look around, dude. You and Blake are a hell of a team.”
He walks off, leaving me with that thought, and I take a deep breath, scanning the room again. The place is packed—more people showed up than I expected, and there’s a real buzz of excitement in the air. I spot Blake’s moms, Trudy and Charlotte, who are standing by one of the auction tables, chatting and laughing like old friends. Even though they’re getting divorced, they seem more solid than ever.
“Hey, Ethan,” Charlotte waves me over.
“Hi there,” I reply, walking up to them.
Trudy pulls me into a hug. “Thank you for everything you’ve done tonight,” she says. “This means so much to Blake. And to us, too.”
“Yeah,” Charlotte adds, giving me her own hug. “We really appreciate the way you’ve been there for Blake.”
A shake of my head. “No, it was all her.”
They share a glance, and I get the sense they know something I don’t. Or maybe they see something in me, the changes I’ve been working on. Either way, it makes me smile.
“Well,” Trudy says, leaning in a little closer, “just know that we’re rooting for you.”
I raise an eyebrow, but before I can ask what she means, someone calls out to them and they leave me standing there. Making my way through the crowd, looking for Blake, people around me are having a really good time. It’s awesome how well everything came together.
Then I see her.
Blake.
She’s standing by the stage, talking to one of the volunteers, and the second my eyes land on her, everything else fades away. She’s in a deep blue dress that hugs her curves in all the right ways, her red hair cascading over her shoulders in soft waves. Her face lights up the entire room, and there’s that familiar ache in my chest, the one that tells me just how much I still love her.
She’s so damn beautiful it almost hurts to look at her, but I take a breath and keep walking closer. When she sees me, her eyes brighten, and that smile—God, that smile—makes my heart do that stupid flip thing again.
“Hey, you,” she says. “Everything’s going smoothly, thanks to you.”
I shake my head, standing beside her as we watch the crowd. “Thanks to us ,” I correct, giving her a sidelong glance. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we? And your vision for tonight was perfect. “
Her eyes meet mine, and for a split second, the air between us shifts. There’s a spark there, something burning so bright the entire world could catch alight if we let it.
We spend the next hour working together, moving through the crowd, checking in on the auction, chatting with everyone who turned up. It’s easy, almost effortless, the way we move in sync. It almost feels like old times—like we haven’t missed a beat, even after everything we’ve been through.
As the evening goes on, the band takes a break, and the room quiets. Blake goes to the stage, the spotlight sending brilliant ruby streaks through her hair. Several former foster children are lined up to speak, and Blake introduces them. The first girl, maybe in her early twenties, looks a little nervous as she grips the microphone, but when she starts talking, her voice is steady.
“I was six when I entered foster care,” she says, her eyes scanning the crowd. “I didn’t have anywhere to go. For almost a month I slept in an office while I waited for a home. I didn’t feel safe, and I didn’t feel like I mattered until I was placed with a family who gave me a room of my own, a bed I could sleep in every night, and for the first time, I felt like I had a future. A place to belong.”
I glance at Blake. She’s standing beside me, her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on the stage. There’s emotion in her expression—pride, sadness, and best of all, hope. Just as the young woman pauses, a loud, crackling sound erupts from the speakers, and then—nothing. She’s saying thanks, but hardly anyone can hear her, and the crowd starts murmuring, confused.
Blake freezes for a moment, her eyes darting to the stage, then to the back where the DJ looks worried. “Damn it,” she whispers under her breath. “I knew I should’ve double-checked the setup.”
Tension builds in her shoulders, and I place a hand on her arm. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
Before she can even respond, I weave through the crowd toward the DJ, who’s frantically adjusting dials, but it’s clear the equipment’s fried. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. The whole system just cut out. We’re dead in the water.”
I glance at Blake, who’s gone to the stage and is telling people in her loudest voice that we’ll just be a few minutes, even though she looks less than confident about the situation. I scan the crowd for Jake, find him, and hurry over. “Hey, you still got that portable speaker system in your truck?”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m setting up Jake’s portable system on stage, reconfiguring the mics while Blake watches from the stage. As the final cable clicks into place, the speakers come back to life with a smooth hum, and she picks up the microphone.
“Sorry about that, folks,” Blake says. “We’re back in business. I’d like to welcome Harry Andrews to the stage. He’s the manager of everyone’s favorite Mexican restaurant in town, and a former foster youth.”
As she hands the microphone to a young man with his hair neatly combed back, wearing a pair of slacks and a white shirt, Blake catches my eye and shoots me a grateful look.
Harry clears his throat. ”I spent most of my teenage years bouncing between shelters and group homes after my parents left me and my little brother to pretty much fend for ourselves. Things seemed very dark, very bleak, but when I finally found a foster family, when I had a safe place to sleep... It changed everything. This fundraiser, what we’re doing here tonight, it’s going to give kids like me hope. A chance. And that’s all anyone really needs—a chance."
I move to stand beside Blake as Harry keeps talking about his experiences—I can tell she’s deeply moved. Hell, I’m deeply moved. Hearing these kids talk about what a safe place meant to them... it’s a reminder of why we’re doing this. Why it matters.
The speeches continue, each one more heartbreaking than the last, and as applause fills the room after the last speaker, I turn to Blake. She’s wiping away a tear, quickly trying to compose herself.
“You okay?”
She sniffles. “Yeah. I just... I didn’t expect to have it hit me this hard.”
Without thinking, I pull her into my arms, wrapping her up in a way that feels both familiar and right. She doesn’t resist, doesn’t hesitate—just melts into me, her head resting against my chest. I breathe her in, and my heart swells at the sensation of her body against mine, right where it should be.
Her hands slide up to rest on my chest, and she whispers, “Thank you for everything.”
I press my chin to the top of her head, holding her tighter for a moment, wanting to keep this feeling forever. But then one of the bands takes the stage, and someone calls her name. I release her, watching as she disappears through the crowd.
Just as I’m about to grab a drink, Liam catches my eye, waving me over, his expression tight. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What now?” I ask, already bracing myself.
“The vendor who was supposed to donate the weekend yacht trip for the auction? They just pulled out. It was the biggest-ticket item on the list.”
“Shit.” This was our contact, an item Liam and I arranged for the auction. I glance over at the tables where the auctioneer is going through the smaller items with Blake. “We need something big to replace it. We’ll lose momentum.”
Liam nods. “I know. What are we gonna do?”
For a second, I rack my brain, searching for any solution that’ll keep the event running smoothly. Then, it hits me. “We’ve already put up a boat trip on the Freedom . How about we sponsor something else?”
Liam raises an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“A group skydive,” I say. “You know how much people pay for those. It’ll be perfect, plus it’s different—something memorable.”
A grin slowly spreads across Liam’s face. “That could work. I’m in.”
Just as I’m about to call over the auctioneer to slot in the new prize, a voice pipes up from behind us.
“Did I hear you boys talkin’ about needing something for the auction?”
I turn to see Joe Heart, Danny’s dad, standing nearby. He’s looking thinner than the last time I saw him, his complexion pale, and there’s a faint wheeze in his breath. The cancer’s been getting worse lately, but there’s strength in his eyes, and I know better than to underestimate him.
“Yeah,” I say. “One of the vendors pulled out, but we’re gonna donate a group skydive instead.”
Joe nods slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line as he thinks. “I might have somethin’ that’ll sweeten the deal for you.”
Liam and I exchange a glance as Joe reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out his phone. He opens the photo app and scrolls through before showing us a picture of a baseball sitting inside a velvet box, yellowed with age. Scrawled across the surface in faded black ink is the name Larry Doby , who helped break down baseball’s color barrier and was the first Black player in the American League.
“Holy shit, Joe,” Liam says, leaning closer to get a better look. “Is that really...?”
“Yep,” Joe says with pride. “It’s the real deal. Danny bought it years ago. It meant the world to him.” His smile falters slightly, and he slides his phone back in his jacket. “But this is for a good cause. Danny would’ve been all over something like this—helping kids who need a safe place. I can’t think of a better way to honor him than to let this ball help raise some funds.”
My throat tightens as I look at the older man, remembering all those afternoons on the field with Danny playing baseball, and I step forward and place a hand on Joe’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “Joe, you don’t have to do this.” But I already know there’s no talking him out of it.
He shakes his head. “I want to, Ethan. I need to. Danny would’ve wanted this. I know that for a fact. And after the town rallied to raise money for my medical expenses at the last Founder’s Day Festival, I’m more than happy to give back.”
For a moment, I’m at a loss for words, before pulling Joe into a hug. “Thank you.”
When I step back, Joe smiles up at me, his eyes glistening. “You’re a good man, Ethan. Always was. I’m real glad to see you and Blake working together on this fundraiser.”
I rub the back of my neck, my heart beating a little faster at the mention of her name. “She’s amazing.”
Joe nods. “She is. I hope it works out between you two. She’s smiling again, you know? I haven’t seen her smile like that in a long time. Danny loved you both so much. He would have wanted this.”
I glance over at her, standing by the auction table, laughing at something the auctioneer said.
Joe gives my arm one last pat. “Go on, tell Blake and the auctioneer. Let’s make sure this ball raises some money.”
“Thanks, Joe. This is amazing.”
Liam gives me a thumbs up as I head toward Blake, my mind already spinning with ideas, thinking about how we can get people excited about Joe’s donation. We’ll need to project the photo onto a screen, maybe play some clips of Larry Doby playing. This auction could be a game-changer for Blake’s cause.
A couple of hours later, the Tavern is quieter, the hum of the crowd replaced by the soft clink of glasses and the scrape of chairs being pushed back in place. Blake changed into jeans and a green cardigan, and we move around the bar, cleaning the aftermath of the fundraiser. I glance over at her, and she’s still shaking her head, a smile tugging at her lips.
“I can’t believe it,” she says for the third time, stacking a pile of plates. “I never thought we’d raise this much money. We didn’t just hit the goal—we smashed it. Especially with the skydives and Danny’s baseball...”
I pause, leaning against the bar, watching her as she moves. “I told you it would be big, but even I didn’t expect this. People really came through.”
Blake stops what she’s doing and looks at me, her eyes shining with gratitude. “I know this was a team effort, but thank you. You didn’t just help, you made this possible.”
I shake my head. “You did this. You made people believe in the cause. I just followed your lead.”
Once the Tavern is finally back in order, I grab the broom and rest it against the wall, wiping my hands on a towel. “So, you feel like celebrating?”
She raises an eyebrow, giving me that playful look I love. “Celebrating?”
“Yeah. How about a road trip?”
Blake laughs, folding her arms across her chest as she tilts her head at me. “When did you get so spontaneous?”
“Since you reminded me how much fun it can be. Come on, what do you say? Just the two of us.” I’ve got no agenda. I just want to spend more time with her.
She bites her bottom lip, considering it for a moment, and I can tell she’s tempted. “Where exactly would we go, Mr. Spontaneity?”
I lean in a little, lowering my voice. “How about you let me surprise you.”
A slightly wild look enters her gaze, the corners of her mouth lifting. “Alright. Let’s do it.”
“Let me just drop by the house and feed Bandit. Then we can go.”
Soon we’re in my truck, heading toward my place. The drive is quick, and Bandit’s waiting for me at the door, his tail wagging furiously. I give him some food, scratch behind his ears, and tell him I’m sorry that he can’t come. I glance at the vape on the kitchen counter and quickly shove it in a drawer, out of sight, then we’re off again, the night stretching out before us as we head toward the one place that feels right: our Secret Spot.
The closer we get to our spot, the more I feel that quiet pull in my chest—the anticipation of being back there with her. The night sky is clear, stars dotting the darkness like pinpricks of light, and the breeze carries a hint of the ocean as it shifts through the open truck windows. When we finally arrive, I park and glance over at Blake.
She’s already looking at me. “This place,” she says quietly, her voice laced with emotion.
And I know what she means. I feel it too.