Chapter Thirty-Five
Anson
T he dock smells like salt and fish, as we finish up our work. It’s been a long day—three charters, two decent hauls, and one group of tourists who had no business being on a boat, but tipped well enough to make up for it.
Sebastian and Parker work beside me, rinsing down the deck, seawater and fish guts washing into the scuppers. The routine is automatic—we’ve done it a hundred times over. Normally, I’d be bullshitting with them, cracking jokes, keeping pace.
But today, I’m quiet.
And they’ve noticed.
Sebastian cuts me a look as he coils a rope, his dark brows pulling together. “All right, I gotta ask—what the hell is up with you today?”
Parker stops hosing down the rail and props himself against it, smirking. “Yeah, man. You’ve been weird all day. Distracted. It’s like your body’s here, but your brain’s off in another dimension.”
I keep my eyes on the deck, scrubbing harder than necessary. “Nothin’.”
Sebastian snorts. “Bullshit.”
I sigh, knowing there’s no getting out of this. I should’ve known they’d be able to tell something was up and drag it out of me.
Parker tosses the hose down and crosses his arms. “Spill it.”
I rake a hand through my hair, glancing at both of them before exhaling. “All right. Fine.” I lean against the rail, staring out at the horizon. “Yesterday, after we went paddleboarding, I took Tabby by the new house. Showed it to her.”
Sebastian and Parker share a look, unspoken words passing between them before they both turn back to me.
Parker nods slowly. “Okay. And?”
I rub the back of my neck. “And … after that, we had dinner at the campground with Pete and Freda. Hung out at the bonfire. And then I stayed over.”
Sebastian lifts a brow. “Not exactly breaking news, man.”
I clench my jaw, then sigh. “Yeah, well … after we … you know … I told her I loved her.”
Silence.
The kind that stretches just long enough to make me regret saying anything at all.
“Holy shit,” Parker cries, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. “You actually said it?”
I nod.
“Was it in the heat of the moment?” he asks.
“After. Once we settled in to go to sleep.”
He whistles. “That’s different. She’s going to think you meant that.”
I shrug. “I did mean it.”
Sebastian stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “You? Told a woman you loved her? And meant it?”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t have to act so damn shocked.”
“No, no, we do,” Parker says, grinning. “This is a shocking moment if there ever was one.”
Sebastian folds his arms, expression shifting into something more thoughtful. “But also … not that shocking.”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He smirks. “It means we’ve seen it coming.”
Parker nods. “Dude, you’ve been different with her since day one. And don’t try to deny it.”
I don’t. Because they’re not wrong.
Tabby is different. She always has been. The minute she walked through the doors of my mother’s shop, all desperate but proud, I was a goner. Everything changed that day. I changed—at least when I’m with her.
Sebastian shakes his head, smiling now. “Man, I gotta admit … I didn’t think we’d see the day.”
Parker claps a hand on my shoulder. “Proud of you, buddy. Our little Anson’s all grown up.”
I groan, shoving his hand off. “All right, enough. Just … don’t make a big deal out of it, okay? And don’t tell your women. You know how they get.”
Sebastian snorts. “Them? Make a big deal out of romance? Never.”
Parker grins. “Your secret’s safe with us.”
For about two seconds.
Then, Sebastian pulls his phone out, holds it up, and grins wide.
“Too late,” he says. “I already texted Avie.”
My stomach drops. “You what?”
He laughs. “Dude, this is the biggest news to hit Sandcastle Cove in forever. I couldn’t hold it in.”
Parker bursts out laughing. “Oh, you’re so fucked.”
I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “Dammit, Seb.”
Sebastian just grins. “Better brace yourself, man. You know they’re gonna lose their minds over this.”
And I do.
I know exactly what’s coming.
After work, I call to check in on Tabby, making sure she’s okay and to warn her that the girls know. She’s going to spend the evening with Freda and Sabel, learning how to can vegetables from the garden, while Parker and I will be busy packing and loading the rest of my belongings.
When she answers my call, her voice is soft and unsure, but after a few minutes, she begins to sound more like herself. It seems my call has reassured her in some way.
“You told the guys?”
“I did. I thought I could trust those assholes, but Seb ratted me out before I even finished telling them,” I say.
“So, everyone knows.”
“They will by the time the sun’s down. You okay with that?”
“Are you?” she asks.
“I don’t care if the whole world knows how I feel about you.”
“Me neither,” she says.
All this relationship stuff is new to me, and I might not know how to navigate it, but one thing I do know is that she has nothing to worry about.
I’m all in.
When Sabel arrives at the campground, she tells me she has to go.
Before I let her off the line, I say, “Okay. I’ll text you later. Bye. I love you,” as naturally as can be, like I’ve been saying it forever.
By the time Parker and I finish hauling the last of my boxes into his truck, the sun is sinking low over the water, casting the beach in that warm glow that always makes Sandcastle Cove feel like something out of a dream. It’s the last load, the final bit of packing before I close on the new house tomorrow.
And honestly? It feels a little surreal.
I lean against the tailgate, wiping sweat off my forehead with the back of my arm, and glance over at Parker, who’s popping the top off a beer and handing it to me. He grabs one for himself, clinks the neck of his bottle against mine, and takes a long swig.
“To the end of an era,” he says, smirking.
I huff out a laugh, shaking my head. “Feels like it, huh?”
Parker gestures toward the beach home we’ve shared for the last few years. It’s nothing fancy—just a small place on stilts, close enough to the water that we can hear the waves at night. The place has seen more than its fair share of late-night parties, hungover mornings, and random girls sneaking out at sunrise.
Now, my time here is just about over.
Tomorrow, I’ll have my own place. And Audrey will be all settled in here with Parker, filling this house with something different. Something steady.
Things are changing.
And for the first time, I don’t mind it.
We settle into the old, worn-out chairs on the back deck—the ones we’ve been too lazy to replace over the years—and turn on the baseball game. The sound of the announcers, the crack of a bat, the roar of the crowd—it all blends into the perfect kind of background noise as we sit there, drinking beer and watching the last bit of sunlight disappear.
“You think you’re gonna miss it?” Parker asks after a while.
I take a sip of my beer, considering. “Maybe a little.”
Parker snorts. “Liar.”
I smirk. “All right, fine. A lot. We had a lot of fun.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Man, remember when we moved in here? We thought we had it all figured out. No responsibilities, no strings. Just fishing, drinking, and picking up girls.”
I chuckle. “Yeah. We were lucky bastards for sure.”
He smirks. “I still think we’re lucky bastards.”
I nod, taking another drink. “We are.”
We sit there in easy silence for a while, letting the game play, letting the memories drift between us. There’s something about nights like this that make the past feel closer, like I could blink and find myself back at twenty-two, drunk off my ass, trying to convince Parker that jumping off the pier in the middle of the night was a good idea.
But we’re not those guys anymore.
And honestly? I don’t want to be.
“So,” Parker says, eyeing me, “you really told her?”
I exhale, shaking my head. “Yeah.”
He grins. “And?”
“And what?”
“Come on, man. What’d she say?”
I smirk. “She said it back.”
His grin widens. “No shit?”
“No shit.”
He lets out a low whistle. “Damn. Never thought I’d see the day.”
I shrug, but there’s no use pretending it doesn’t mean something. That she doesn’t mean something. Everything.
“Guess we’re both moving into new territory,” Parker says, stretching out his legs. “You and Tabby, me and Audrey.”
“Yeah,” I say, glancing over at him. “You ready for that?”
He exhales, staring out at the water. “More than ready. That woman is all I’ve ever wanted.”
I nod. “Yeah. Me too.”
We go quiet again, watching the game, drinking our beers, letting the night settle around us.
It might be the end of an era, but for the first time, it feels like something better—a new era—is beginning.