13. Hadley
Chapter Thirteen
HADLEY
Ireach for two coffee mugs. Freeze halfway to the counter. Stare at the second one for a full five seconds before laughing to myself. Apparently, my brain has already started accounting for Nolan, which feels reckless.
The way he moved me to the inside of the sidewalk walking back through town after our date. The way he remembers things I mention casually. The way his entire face melts into a tender gaze whenever he looks at me, as if I’m a delicate treasure to be cherished.
And all of that makes for a difficult situation because now it’s Sunday morning, and I’m standing in my kitchen making coffee while replaying the exact look on Nolan’s face after I told him I didn’t think I wanted to leave.
I lean both hands on the counter and close my eyes. That look has followed me all the way home.
Rook snores loudly from the couch, unbothered by my emotional crisis. He must have been tuckered out when he wandered into my house through the doggie door around six this morning.
He stretches without opening his eyes, clearly confident I’ll survive this crisis on my own. His tail thumps once against the cushions without opening his eyes.
Outside my cottage windows, sunlight spills warmly across Otter Creek Farm while the rest of the property wakes. Somewhere near the barn, I can hear Rowan arguing with Dad about tractor maintenance while music drifts faintly from the main farmhouse kitchen.
Sunday mornings here always feel softer, slower. The whole family naturally folding together again after busy weeks.
Usually I love it, but today my pulse keeps jumping whenever I think about seeing Holt after my date last night.
My phone buzzes against the counter, and every nerve ending in my body lights up.
It’s pathetic.
I grab it too quickly anyway.
Nolan
Morning.
I answer before I’ve finished reading the message, then reread it anyway.
Me
Morning.
Three dots appear.
Nolan
You awake long?
I glance toward the second coffee mug I took out of the cabinet on instinct.
Me
Apparently long enough to accidentally make your coffee too.
Silence.
Nolan
Hadley.
Just my name leaves my chest aching.
I lean against the counter and close my eyes briefly because honestly, this man is becoming impossible to survive.
Nolan
You busy today?
I smile helplessly.
Me
Family breakfast soon.
My fingers tap anxiously along the back of my phone as I wait.
Nolan
Still nervous about Holt?
Me
A little.
Three dots appear.
Nolan
I don’t want this to make things hard for you.
At that moment, I understand something awful. He genuinely thinks I might choose my family’s comfort over him if things become complicated.
Before I can overthink it, I respond.
Me
You’re worth difficult.
I stare at the phone while my pulse pounds harder with every passing second.
Nolan
Jesus Christ, Hadley.
His reply doesn’t come, which feels louder than it would have.
The screen lights again.
Nolan
Nobody’s ever said something like that to me before.
My chest physically aches.
Before I can answer, a knock sounds against the cottage door.
“Hadley,” Holt yells through it. “Mom says if you don’t come eat breakfast soon, she’s holding your pancakes hostage in my stomach.”
I close my eyes briefly.
Nolan
You smiling right now?
The question startles a laugh out of me.
Because yes, I absolutely am.
Me
Maybe.
Nolan
Good.
I catch myself humming while I rinse out my coffee mug. It takes me another thirty seconds to realize I’m smiling too. The kind I haven’t let myself fully want in a very long time.
Family breakfast at the Wright farmhouse turns out to be exactly as awkward as anticipated.
Possibly worse.
Because apparently once you start secretly falling in love with someone, every casual mention of them feels life-threatening.
“Holt says the marina’s looking good.”
I nearly inhale my coffee wrong.
Across the kitchen table, Rowan pauses halfway through cutting pancakes while Ivy lowers her orange juice.
Bailey looks interested.
Of course she does.
Mom glances up from the stove where she’s cooking enough breakfast for a small army despite the fact that half her children are fully grown adults with their own homes.
“Oh?” she says lightly.
Holt shrugs one shoulder and reaches for bacon. “Pierce knows what he’s doing.”
The fact that he’s calling Nolan Pierce instead of Nolan means we are skating on thin ice already.
I sip coffee carefully while trying to look normal.
This fails because Bailey kicks my shin beneath the table hard enough that I can’t mask the glare I send her way.
She smiles innocently.
Murder remains illegal, unfortunately.
The farmhouse kitchen hums warmly around us. Sunlight spills through the windows while music drifts from an old speaker near the pantry. Oliver and Evelyn argue about syrup amounts at the far end of the table while Dean reads something on his phone beside Lila.
Oliver steals bacon off Dean’s plate. Mom doesn’t even look up before sliding two more pieces onto his plate. Nobody asks whose kid he’s feeding. They all just know.
“You okay?” Ivy asks beside me.
“I’m fine.”
Bailey snorts directly into her coffee.
Holt’s eyes narrow from across the table. The twin radar is activating again.
I shove half a pancake into my mouth to avoid further questioning. This makes everything worse.
Mom points the spatula at me. “Why are you stress eating?”
I freeze as the table goes silent. Even Rowan looks emotionally invested now.
Wonderful.
Fantastic.
Exactly the subtle family breakfast experience I wanted.
“I’m not stress eating.”
“Hads,” Crew says carefully, “you just inhaled that pancake like it insulted you personally.”
I hate everyone here.
Bailey fully abandons me at that point by dissolving into laughter beside Ivy.
Cowards. Both of them.
Holt leans back in his chair, watching me with alarming calm.
“So,” he says casually. “You and Nolan are spending a lot of time together lately.”
There it is. The conversation arrives like a sniper shot directly between my ribs.
“We work together sometimes.”
“Mm.”
I genuinely may strangle every person in this town who makes that sound.
Across the table, Rowan looks between Holt and me.
“Oh my God.”
Crew straightens. “Wait. What?”
The room suddenly feels about 12,000 degrees warmer.
Bailey physically abandons all loyalty by whispering, “This is better than reality television.”
I glare at her hard enough to communicate future violence. Unfortunately, Ivy looks seconds away from laughing too.
Bailey dabs imaginary tears dramatically. “I love romance.” Crew throws a napkin at her face.
Holt catches my eye across the table. He doesn’t say anything, just shakes his head once. The tiniest smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. Like maybe he’s not nearly as surprised as I hoped.
Holt stands first, carrying his empty plate toward the sink like nothing monumental just happened.
Typical.
Leave a grenade in the middle of family breakfast, then wander off for more coffee.
One by one, everyone else starts drifting away too. Oliver races Evelyn toward the back porch. Dean steals another piece of bacon while Mom pretends not to notice.
Bailey bumps my shoulder as she passes.
“You owe me details.”
“Go away.”
“That’s not a no.”
She bails before I can threaten her properly. I linger at the table, wrapping both hands around my coffee mug even though it’s gone cold.
Funny. A week ago, I would’ve spent the entire morning trying to figure out how to avoid this conversation. Now the only thing I can dwell on is the fact that Holt didn’t look angry. He looked...resigned. Almost amused.
“He’s happy for you.”
Mom’s voice startles me.
I glance up to find her wiping down the counter, watching me with the kind of quiet smile only mothers seem capable of.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
She folds the dish towel neatly over the sink.
“Holt’s been worried about you for a long time.”
My brows pull together.
“Worried?”
“You spend so much time taking care of everyone else.”
She says it gently.
“So when someone finally starts taking care of you”—her smile grows just a little—
“it’s hard not to notice.”
Emotion catches unexpectedly in my throat. Because it seems he saw it before I did.
Before I can answer, my phone vibrates against the table.
One new message.
Nolan
Survive breakfast?
I laugh despite myself.
Me
Barely.
Nolan
Still worth difficult?
I smile down at the screen.
Me
Especially worth difficult.
I slip the phone into my pocket and finally stand.
For the first time all morning, the knot in my stomach is gone.