Chapter 16 #2
In the end, it didn’t matter.
“Yeah,” I replied. “It could.”
The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, and the crowd thinned.
Maria had taken over cleanup duty at the bar, waving me off when I tried to help.
Tessa was still near the display, talking to the last stragglers, but when she caught my eye, I tilted my head toward the far end of the beach. She understood immediately.
We met at the edge of the crowd, where the noise faded into the rhythmic crash of the surf. I held out my hand, and she took it without hesitation, her fingers threading through mine as we walked away from the lights and the people.
We didn’t speak until we were far enough down the beach that the sounds of the event were just a murmur in the distance. The stars were appearing, faint pinpricks against the deepening blue sky.
We stopped when we reached the Driftwood Dragon, a sprawling sculpture artfully pieced together by locals from treasures the tide washed in.
A tangled mass of wood formed its horned head, a spine of long, silvered logs curved down the sand, and two jagged wings made from splintered planks and branches reached for the sky.
It was a town landmark, constantly changing as storms stole pieces and beachcombers added more.
Tessa ran a hand over one of the smooth, bleached logs that made up its back before leaning against it and turning to face me, her eyes shining in the twilight. “I can’t believe that actually worked.”
“I can. I knew you could do this.”
“Thank you.”
“You were incredible up there, Tessa. Watching you, listening to you talk about the future of this place...” I shook my head. “I don’t even have the words.”
A brilliant smile lit up her face. “You don’t have to.
We did it, Braden.” She reached out, her hand finding my arm and squeezing.
“This wasn’t just me. I heard all kinds of people raving over your Reef Saver IPA.
You brought your entire family into this.
None of this would have happened without you. ”
“We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”
“Yeah,” she breathed, her gaze sweeping back toward the distant lights of the party. “We do.”
We stood in comfortable silence for a moment, letting the reality sink in.
“They’d be proud if they saw this,” I said quietly.
Tessa knew exactly who I meant. Her shoulders tensed just a fraction. “My parents get in next week.”
“Are you ready?”
“I hope so.” Her voice was quiet. “I hope they see what I see. What we’ve built here.”
“And us?” The question slipped out before I could stop it. “Do they know?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I thought it might be better to keep it simple. Let them see the project first, and then... I don’t know. Maybe we can figure out the rest later.”
I didn’t like the idea of hiding what we had, but I understood her reasoning.
The Donovans had never thought I was good enough for their daughter, and the idea of facing them again made my stomach twist. But if they could see what Tessa and I had built—what I had built—maybe they’d finally understand.
Maybe they’d see I wasn’t the kid they’d written off twelve years ago.
“Okay,” I said. “We’ll keep it low-key. Colleagues working on a project. For now.”
She smiled, but there was something fragile in it. “Thank you. Just until they get settled in on their visit.”
I cupped her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing over her cheekbones. “I just want them to see you the way I do.”
“How’s that?”
“Like you’re the most brilliant, passionate, stubborn woman I’ve ever known. Like you could change the world if you wanted to.”
Her smile remained. “Braden...”
I tilted her head back, my hand sliding from her jaw to cradle the back of her neck, my thumb stroking the soft skin there.
She melted into me, her lips parting in a soft invitation that I met with a groan.
It was in the slide of our tongues, the warmth of our lips.
This wasn’t a kiss of memory. It was a kiss of right now.
It was deep and certain, a long, savoring truth that had settled deep in my bones over the course of the day.
It tasted of a promise, of three simple words, I was too afraid to speak out loud yet.
But I wanted to. God, I wanted to.
Later, as we walked back toward her townhouse, the giddy energy of the event still buzzing between us, Tessa kept laughing, recounting little moments from the day—Finn’s excitement over the touchscreen reef, Gus Davis’s approval, the way the town council president had actually used the phrase civic gold mine to describe her work.
“I never thought I’d hear Sandra Martinez call me a civic gold mine,” Tessa said, shaking her head. “That woman terrified me in high school.”
“She still terrifies most people. You should take it as a compliment.”
She grinned up at me, and the sight of it hit me square in the gut.
This. This was what I wanted.
Her laughter. Her passion. Her presence beside me as we built something that mattered.
When we reached her door, she turned to face me, her back against the frame. The porch light cast a soft glow over her features, and I couldn’t resist leaning in to slant my mouth over hers again. “God, you taste so good.”
She smiled against my lips and grabbed my arms so I couldn’t pull away. The motion sent a blistering wave of heat to my core.
Moving back a step, she gave me a level stare. “Is that all the celebrating you had in mind?”
“Hmmm. That sounds promising. What did you have in mind?”
Her smile turned wicked at the edges. She unlocked the door without breaking eye contact, her other hand sliding from my chest down to my belt buckle, and gave it a soft tug. “I was thinking the main event hasn’t even started yet.”
I let her draw me inside. And as the door closed behind us and shut out the rest of the world, I let myself believe in the impossible.
That she was mine to keep.