16. Nolan
Chapter Sixteen
NOLAN
By early July, Hadley has unofficially moved into my routine without either of us acknowledging it out loud.
It starts small. Coffee appearing on my desk before eight. Texts asking whether I’ve eaten lunch. Her shoes kicked off beside the couch upstairs in the marina apartment because she “didn’t feel like carrying them down.”
None of it should feel significant. Instead, every tiny thing settles somewhere deep in my chest like proof. Proof that she’s here. Proof that she keeps choosing me.
I stand on the upper marina balcony watching sunrise spill gold across Back Bay while construction crews arrive below. The marina glows in the early morning light now—fresh lumber along the western slips, newly painted railings catching sunlight, boats rocking gently against restored docks.
Three months ago, this place looked half dead.
Now?
It feels alive.
Hopeful.
And every hopeful thing in my life lately traces directly back to Hadley. The thought lingers heavily while I sip coffee from the mug she left upstairs yesterday.
Nobody’s ever left pieces of themselves in my spaces before.
The apartment door creaks behind me. Warmth spreads through my chest. I glance over my shoulder, and there she is. Barefoot. Sleep-rumpled. Wearing one of my marina T-shirts that hangs obscenely low over her thighs.
Jesus Christ.
Every cell in my brain dissolves.
Hadley steps onto the balcony, rubbing sleep from her eyes while morning wind moves through her hair. And suddenly something in my chest physically aches from how much affection crashes through me all at once.
God.
I love her.
“You’re staring again,” she murmurs sleepily.
I lean one shoulder against the railing, watching her move toward me.
“You coming out here looking like that before nine a.m. feels targeted.”
A smile tugs at her mouth.
“There’s the marina man charm.”
I groan. “Please stop encouraging that nickname.”
“Never.”
Hadley reaches me a second later and without hesitation slips directly into my space. Into my arms. Like she belongs there.
The movement happens so naturally that for one suspended second, I just stand there holding her against my chest while the sunrise spills across the bay around us.
Hadley presses her cheek lightly against my chest while I wrap one arm around her waist.
“You’re up early,” she murmurs.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
She tilts her head back. “Everything okay?”
I brush my fingers along her back beneath the thin cotton of my shirt.
“Yeah.”
She narrows her eyes.
“You’re doing the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The emotionally constipated one-word answer.”
A snort escapes me before I can stop it. I look down at her standing barefoot in my arms while morning light melts every edge of her face. And suddenly the truth presses too heavily against my chest to hold there anymore.
“I had a dream you left,” I admit softly.
Silence.
The marina sounds continue below us—dock lines creaking, workers unloading lumber, and gulls crying overhead—but the space between us goes still.
Hadley’s face immediately shifts, her emotions flitting across it like a startled bird.
“Nolan.”
I exhale, looking back toward the water, because vulnerability feels too sharp to hold eye contact.
“It was stupid.”
“No,” she says.
I glance back down. Hadley studies me carefully from inside my arms. And there it is again, that scary ability she has to see directly through me.
“You’re scared this won’t last,” she says in a subdued tone.
I spent most of my life learning not to trust permanence. Not to build futures around things I could lose. And now I love a woman so deeply that the idea of losing her physically hurts before it’s even happened.
The fear sits low and heavy inside my chest.
“I don’t know how to do this part,” I admit roughly.
Hadley’s brows pull together.
“What part?”
I swallow hard once before answering.
“The part where I want something enough to be terrified of it.”
The honesty hangs heavily in the morning air between us. And for one suspended second, I almost regret saying it aloud, then Hadley reaches up and cups my face gently in both hands.
The touch is so heartwarming that my chest nearly bursts open.
“You know what I think?” she whispers.
I shake my head once.
“I think loving someone after spending your whole life alone probably feels terrifying.”
Emotion swells painfully behind my ribs because she always understands the thing underneath the thing. Not just my fear, but the loneliness beneath it.
And Christ, being known this completely feels almost unbearable sometimes.
Hadley’s thumbs brush along my jaw.
“I’m scared too,” she admits.
My eyes dart back to hers, wide with fear.
“You are?”
A small, sad smile touches her mouth.
“You’ve become part of my life really fast.” A fragile whisper, barely audible, escapes her lips. “The idea of losing that scares me now too.”
I realize we’re both standing here equally wrecked by how much this matters already, then Hadley presses a soft kiss against my mouth.
Morning sunlight spills gold around us while the marina wakes below and the woman I love kisses me like she’s trying to soothe every lonely part of me at once. Hadley kisses me like she already knows every fractured part of me worth soothing.
My hands settle instinctively at her waist, pulling her closer against my chest. Hadley sighs into the kiss. The sound melts something deep inside me.
God.
I could spend the rest of my life addicted to that sound.
Hadley pulls back just enough to look up at me, sunlight catching warm honey tones in her hair while my T-shirt slips farther down one shoulder.
Beautiful. Always beautiful.
“You got quiet again,” she murmurs.
I brush my thumb along her waist beneath the shirt.
“Thinking.”
“That’s usually dangerous with you.”
I lean one shoulder against the balcony railing while keeping her tucked close between my arms. The woman I love is standing barefoot in my clothes on my marina balcony while our morning coffee cools beside us.
“I’m not used to somebody staying overnight and it feeling…” I stop briefly, searching for the right word.
Hadley waits patiently.
“Easy,” I finish.
Her brow smooths, and a gentle curve touches her lips, her eyes losing their sharp edge. And there it is again, that look she gets every time I accidentally say something vulnerable. Like she wants to hold it carefully.
“You know what’s funny?” she asks.
“What?”
“You act like you’re complicated to love.”
I scoff under my breath.
“Hadley, I bought a hurricane-damaged marina on impulse.”
“You rebuilt a hurricane-damaged marina,” she corrects gently. “There’s a difference.”
Hadley studies me carefully another moment before asking, “Can I tell you something without you spiraling emotionally?”
“That depends entirely on the sentence.”
She continues, “I think you’ve spent so much time preparing for people to leave that you never realized you’re actually somebody worth staying for.”
Nobody has ever looked at me that way before. Not as someone worth choosing permanently.
Emotion presses painfully against my chest while I stare down at her standing wrapped in morning light and honesty.
“Hadley.”
The softness in my voice makes something vulnerable flicker across her face too. She’s giving me pieces of herself just as carefully, trusting me too.
I slide one hand upward along her back beneath the T-shirt, fingertips brushing warm bare skin.
Hadley shivers lightly against me and not from cold. My pulse reacts. This woman affects me too easily.
“You know what’s dangerous?” I murmur.
Her gaze gradually rises to meet mine.
“What?”
“I can’t tell anymore if I’m trying to take this slow or just failing at it.”
A startled laugh slips from her.
“I think we passed slow around the bookstore.”
I smile despite myself before leaning down to kiss her again. The kind of kiss that lingers instead of consumes. Hadley melts against me anyway. And I’m submerged in that impossible feeling of rightness every time she’s in my arms.
The marina noise fades around the edges while sunlight warms our skin, and I kiss the woman who turned this town into home without even trying.
My hands tighten instinctively at her waist. I don’t even know how to imagine my life without her anymore.
The thought hits hard enough that I pull back to look at her again.
Hadley blinks up at me sleepily, lips pink from kissing while the wind moves through her hair. And I’ve never felt a desire so strong to take everything she’s willing to give and make this place a home.
The marina reaches its first full reopening milestone that Friday evening.
Enough is restored that half the western slips officially reopen to the public, charter bookings resume for the season, and tourists flood the docks with enough energy to make the entire place feel alive again.
Music drifts across Back Bay from rented speakers near the fuel dock while locals wander between boats carrying drinks and seafood baskets from the temporary restaurant setup near the marina office.
Lights glow everywhere tonight. String lights overhead. Dock lights reflect gold on the water, and lanterns sway gently in the warm evening wind.
And in the middle of all of it, I can barely focus on the marina at all because Hadley’s here.
That woman is going to kill me someday.
She’s standing near the end of the dock beside Bailey and Ivy, wearing a soft blue sundress that moves around her legs in the bay breeze while she laughs at something Crew says.
The sound carries faintly across the water.
The feeling that crashes through my chest every time I look at her now feels almost unbearable.
Definitely not infatuation.
The shockingly beautiful certainty that loving her is becoming the most natural thing I’ve ever done.
“You should probably blink occasionally.”
I glance sideways.
Walter Greene stands beside me holding a beer and entirely too much amusement.
“I hate this town.”
“No you don’t.”
Walter looks toward Hadley knowingly. “You got it bad.”
I laugh once under my breath.
“Yeah.”
The admission comes easier now because fighting it feels pointless.
Walter studies me another second before clapping one heavy hand against my shoulder.
“Good,” he says.
Then he wanders away before I can process that interaction properly.
Typical.
The marina crowd shifts around me while warm evening air rolls off the bay, carrying salt water, music, and summer. And Hadley looks up, finding me.
The moment our gazes lock, a harsh line etches around her mouth, melting into a gentle curve, and the storm in her eyes dissolves. Like I’m the person she was looking for too.
It’s the very thing that destroys me. Not the chemistry. Not even the kisses. The way she looks relieved to find me in a crowded room.
Hadley excuses herself from the group and starts walking toward me, and the entire marina fades at the edges.
There she is, my favorite part of every day.
“You’ve been working all night,” she says once she reaches me.
I glance down at her. Close enough now to smell her perfume beneath the salt air.
Close enough to touch.
“I own the place,” I remind her.
“Mm-hmm.” One brow lifts. “Yet you’re still overworking.”
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. I slide one hand along her waist, pulling her lightly against my side while the marina’s lights shimmer across the water around us.
Hadley settles there naturally, right where she belongs.
“How’s the crowd?” she asks.
I look out over the docks. Families laughing near the slips. Tourists taking pictures beside restored boats. Workers finally relaxing after weeks of nonstop rebuilding.
Hope.
The marina feels hopeful tonight.
“Good,” I admit. “Better than good.”
Hadley smiles.
“You did this.”
The words land directly beneath my ribs.
I look down at her carefully.
“We did this.”
Her breath catches.
I’m not just talking about the marina either. I mean all of it. The rebuilding. The life.
Us.
Hadley hears it in my voice. Her hand slides lightly against my chest while the marina celebration continues around us unnoticed.
“You know what I think?” she asks.
“What?”
“I think this place feels like home because you finally let people help you.”
I stare down at her as the lights reflect gold in the water behind us and realize with alarming clarity that I want this forever.
Not just the relationship.
The life.
Hadley beside me at the marina. At home. Everywhere.
The permanence of the feeling nearly steals my breath, then music swells louder near the docks as somebody changes the playlist, and Hadley laughs.
“What?”
She smiles up at me.
“Dance with me.”
I blink.
“Absolutely not.”
Her mouth drops open dramatically. “Excuse me?”
“I build things. I don’t dance.”
“That sounds fake.”
“It’s deeply real.”
Hadley narrows her eyes suspiciously before grabbing my hand.
“Nolan Pierce.”
“Hads—”
Too late.
She’s already pulling me toward the open stretch of dock near the marina lights where a handful of couples sway lazily beneath the string lights.
I stop walking.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Hadley.”
She steps closer then.
Really close.
Close enough that warm wind lifts strands of her hair across my jaw while laughter and music blur around us.
And then she says the most unfair possible thing. “Please?”
Christ.
I would genuinely help this woman hide a body if she looked at me like this long enough.
“You fight dirty,” I mutter.
A victorious smile spreads across her face.
Beautiful. Absolutely devastating. She slides both arms loosely around my neck, trapping me. The second her body settles against mine beneath marina lights and soft music, every instinct to resist evaporates completely.
My hands find her waist.
As we slowly sway together under glowing lights and warm salt air, the world seems to shrink.
Hadley smiles against my shoulder after a moment.
“You’re dancing.”
“Against my will.”
“Liar.”
I glance down at her as music drifts across the water, and something inside my chest aches with the sheer intensity of loving her this much already. Then Hadley tilts her head back and kisses me.
In front of everyone.
The marina disappears around me because this kiss feels different too. It’s like we’ve stopped pretending this isn’t real.
My hand tightens gently at her waist while I kiss her back beneath the lights and music and warm Virginia night.
And then the scariest realization of all occurs. I’m afraid of ever having to leave her.