Chapter 7
Iwake up with a jolt, hard enough to make Neptune’s head snap up from his bed, ears perked and eyes wide.
“Sorry, Neps,” I whisper, pressing a hand to my chest. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
My heart is still racing as I look around the room. It’s completely dark. So dark that I feel like I’ve been asleep for days.
“What time is it?” I mumble.
I reach toward my nightstand, feeling around blindly for my glasses, and come up empty.
Great.
I sit up, squinting into the darkness, and my phone slides from my chest into my lap.
I blink down at it.
“What the actual fuck…”
I search the bed, hands sweeping across the sheets until I find my glasses sitting right beside me, exactly where they should be.
And then it comes back to me. I was texting my sisters when I passed out.
I slip my glasses on, grab my phone, and squint at the screen. The battery is at ten percent. Of course. And the time reads 5:30 A.M.
“Damn,” I whisper.
I must’ve been more tired than I thought.
It’s early enough that I could probably fall back asleep for another hour, but my brain is already awake, buzzing. I plug my phone into the outlet and lean back against the pillow.
Neptune circles once in his bed and curls back up.
“Sleep for a few more minutes, Neps,” I murmur.
Then I open the chat and scroll up to my last message.
Me:
They are both very handsome, but I didn’t come all the way over here to go falling for a man.
I glance at the timestamp.
Just after 9 P.M.
Wow. Dramatic and exhausted. A powerful combo.
I keep reading.
April:
That’s right, you went all the way there to fall for 2 men
June:
I just want to know. Are we speaking why choose or love triangle?
April:
OMG, please let it be a why choose!
June:
May?
April:
You think she’s on the phone with Mr. Fireman?
June:
Either that or Mr. Coast Guard is serenading outside of her hotel room
April:
May?
June:
If it’s not one of them and she only fell asleep I’m going to be very disappointed.
April:
Same.
If this is a love triangle, are you team fireman or team coast guard?
June:
Mmmm… I want this to be a why choose, but if she must choose just one, I think I’m team fireman.
April:
Really? Why?
June:
He seems more… safe
April:
The man walks into buildings on fire. What is safe about that?
June:
I mean his personality. He’s giving, grounded, and I like that.
How about you? Are you team Coast Guard?
April:
a little. I kinda want her to have a fun romp on the sack, as mom used to say
June:
Mom used to say that???
April:
baby girl, mom was a huge erotica reader. She used to say way more than that.
On that note, I must go. I have a very sexy man waiting in bed for me.
June:
Why don’t you rub it in my face a little more
April:
I would never
Xx
I let out a quiet laugh, shaking my head. These two could turn a grocery list into a novella.
So I type.
Me:
Sorry to disappoint. I fell asleep.
Also, this is not a why-choose or a love triangle.
The typing bubble appears instantly.
June:
Good morning sunshine.
Never say never.
For all you know, it may turn into a throuple
I groan into my pillow, then mutter, “God help me.”
Neptune lets out a sleepy huff and shifts in his bed.
And despite myself, I smile.
It’s just a few hours later when Gavin parks his truck outside the Coast Guard station, and the first thing I notice is that it doesn’t look like a station at all.
It looks like a home.
White siding, a low roof, wide windows framed with flower boxes spilling over with color.
Bright blooms, green vines, neatly trimmed hedges.
There’s a small garden out front that looks carefully tended, like someone genuinely cares about how this place feels, not just how it functions.
It doesn’t feel official or institutional. It feels warm. Lived in.
I find myself wondering who takes care of it. Who waters the flowers, trims the hedges, and makes sure it looks this inviting every morning?
We’re right on the bay, the water stretching out in front of us, calm and blue, boats drifting lazily in the distance, and beyond it all, rising over the water, is the bridge.
Stone and steel and massive arches, solid and permanent, a landmark that feels like it’s always been there. It dominates the view in a quiet, steady way, as if watching over the bay instead of cutting through it. I stare at, something about it settling in my chest.
“Ms. Moreira.”
The voice comes from my side. I glance over to find Finn walking toward me, his stride confident, a wide, easy smile forming the second his eyes meet mine, as if he’s already decided this moment belongs to him.
He’s in full Coast Guard working uniform this time, deep blue and crisp, the fabric structured across his shoulders and chest, black boots polished clean. His cap sits low on his head, shadowing his eyes just enough to make his smile even more distracting than it already is.
My eyes move over the details of his uniform. The embroidered patch on his collar shows three gold chevrons beneath a silver Coast Guard shield, stitched into the same deep blue fabric. Above his nametape, the gold rescue swimmer wings sit against the fabric, subtle but unmistakable.
He looks unfairly good.
My cheeks heat instantly.
“O’Donoghue.”
He stops in front of me with that same easy grin, his confidence settling naturally into the space between us.
Gavin steps around the truck with his hand extended, and Finn takes it without hesitation.
“You two already met?” George asks, glancing between us.
Finn nods, then turns toward me and extends his hand.
I take it to shake, but instead he turns it gently and brushes a kiss over my knuckles, his eyes already on mine.
“I was there when Ms. Moreira saved our precious seal.” His smile widens, my hand still in his.
Heat rushes straight to my face. I pull my hand back, trying desperately to stop the blush.
“He was there,” I tell George. “Didn’t do much to help.”
Finn chuckles. “It looked like you had it under control.”
“Thanks.” I roll my eyes slightly.
George looks mildly lost but keeps going. “Thank you for meeting with us, Officer O’Donoghue.”
“George, we’ve known each other a while now. Please, lad, call me Finn.”
“Ah. Right.” George clears his throat. “Thank you for meeting with us. As you know, May is our newest addition to the team, and I want her familiar with everyone here.”
Finn looks at me, all smiles.
“Oh, I’ll get her acquainted.” His grin returns. “You can count on that.”
By the time we circle back toward the main bay doors, my head is spinning in the best way.
Finn has introduced me to what feels like half the station, and every single person has been kind, welcoming, and genuinely excited that I’m here—handshakes, smiles, easy jokes, quick hellos that feel more like friends than coworkers.
There’s no awkwardness between them, no weird energy, no territorial vibes.
Just… warmth.
Community.
I can already hear April’s voice in my head. She wouldn’t know where to look with all these hot men in uniforms.
Then again, April is so completely in love with Max that she probably wouldn’t even notice. The rest of the world could disappear, and she’d still be staring at her fiancé like he hung the moon.
Finn keeps talking as we walk, pointing things out casually, as if he doesn’t realize how easy he is to listen to.
“We work the coast with the neighboring stations,” he says, gesturing toward the bay. “Depoe Bay, Newport, up toward the Columbia River, down the southern coast. It’s all connected out here. Doesn’t matter what patch you’re wearin’, everyone shows up when somethin’ goes wrong.”
He glances at me as he speaks, making sure I’m following, making sure I’m included.
“We do a lot with marine biologists too,” he continues. “NOAA, OSU, research teams. Whale entanglements, habitat protection, vessel support for research missions, and oil spill response. All of it.”
“That’s basically my whole world,” I say.
“Aye, I figured,” he smiles. “You’re the science side. We’re the chaos side.”
I laugh.
“We work together more than people realize,” he adds. “Whale rescues, protected waters, research boats, enforcement of clean water laws, protectin’ marine sanctuaries. It all overlaps out here.”
He slows as we walk, close enough now that I have to tilt my head just slightly to meet his eyes.
“It’s not just rescues either,” he says. “It’s prevention. Protection. Keepin’ things from turnin’ into disasters in the first place.”
That lands differently than I expect.
“I like that,” I say quietly.
He looks at me when I say it, his attention settling fully on me.
“Aye,” he says softly. “So do I.”
We pause near one of the open bay doors, the sound of water and gulls drifting inside, the smell of salt in the air.
For a second, it doesn’t feel like work at all. It feels like standing in the middle of something good, something solid and real, and somehow Finn doesn’t feel like a distraction from why I came here. He feels like part of it.
George clears his throat beside us. “We’re all one big team around here,” he adds. “Next stop is the fire station, so May can meet the team there.”
“The fire station?” I ask, blinking.
George nods, smiling. “Figured we could get it all done in one day. We want you out in the ocean as soon as this weekend.”
“I’ve got you scheduled for Friday morning,” Finn adds casually as we walk toward George’s truck.
“As always, it’s been a pleasure,” George says, extending his hand.
Finn takes it and shakes firmly. “We’ll talk soon, mate.”
George nods and heads for the driver’s side, already pulling his phone out, leaving me standing there with Finn, who’s now wearing one of his slow, confident smiles that feel entirely too intentional.
“Are you busy tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” I’m caught off guard. “I work a half day, and I’m moving into my new place in the afternoon.”
“Will you need any help moving?”
I laugh. “I have two suitcases and Neptune’s bed. I think I can manage.”
I walk toward the passenger door. Before I can open it, though, Finn places his palm against the door frame, stopping me.
I look at the door, then at him.
“Finn,” I keep my voice low, “I’m working, and that in there is my superior. Whatever you’re trying to do, this is not the time.”
He glances through the window at George and lifts one finger, silently asking for a minute. George gives a distracted thumbs-up while answering his phone.
I look between them in disbelief.
Then Finn’s eyes are back on mine, his smile never leaving his face.
“Well then, I want to take you out to dinner tomorrow.”
It’s not a question, and it’s not a demand either. For a second, I genuinely don’t know how to answer.
“Um,” I start. “I don’t think—”
“May,” he cuts in gently, “I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m asking you to go to dinner with me. If you want to marry me after, we can talk about that later.”
The grin that follows makes it worse.
I just stare at him.
He holds his hand out. “Give me your phone.”
I reach into my pocket, pull it out, and hand it to him.
“Would you mind unlocking it?”
I take it back, swipe up, let the face recognition activate, and hand it back to him. He types something quickly, and I hear his phone buzz in his pocket. He hands mine back, pulls out his phone, unlocks it, and types again.
My phone dings in my hand.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says with a smile, then turns and walks away, leaving me standing there trying to process what just happened.
I open the door, climb into the truck, and buckle my seatbelt. George is still on the phone, talking to someone about a budget deficit, completely unaware that my brain is short-circuiting.
I look down at my phone, to the new message thread Finn just created.
Me:
I would love to go out with you tomorrow, Finn.
Finn:
I’ll pick you up at 7, lass. Send me your address.