17. Hadley
Chapter Seventeen
HADLEY
By Saturday morning, Coral Bell Cove has officially accepted Nolan Pierce as one of its own. And not subtly either.
Walter Greene hands Nolan a hardware store loyalty card “for locals.” Mrs. Henderson invites him to Sunday dinner three separate times. Two fishermen waving at him from Main Street, yelling “Morning, Marina Man.”
Which, unfortunately, makes me laugh every single time now.
Nolan, however, looks personally betrayed by the nickname’s continued survival.
“This town is emotionally exhausting,” he mutters beside me as we walk through the Saturday farmers’ market carrying coffee.
Warm summer sunlight spills across Main Street while tourists and locals crowd between flower stands, bakery tents, and produce tables.
Someone’s selling lemonade beneath a striped canopy, kids weave through the crowd with sticky fingers, and music drifts from somewhere near the courthouse lawn.
The whole town buzzes with that easy coastal weekend energy Coral Bell Cove seems to manufacture without trying.
And beside me, Nolan looks so naturally woven into all of it now that sometimes it startles me. Baseball cap. Coffee in hand. Shoulder brushing mine every few steps.
“You secretly love it,” I tell him.
Nolan glances sideways at me. “I secretly tolerate it.”
“Liar.”
His mouth twitches.
God, I love making him smile. Somewhere along the way, it became one of my favorite things.
“You’re staring again,” he says.
“I’m admiring your community integration.”
“That sounds threatening.”
“It should.”
A laugh escapes him, and that warm impossible feeling in my chest every time I pull joy from him.
We stop beside a flower stand overflowing with peonies and wildflowers while a warm breeze rolls through Main Street.
The woman working the booth brightens.
“Well, there’s my favorite marina couple.”
Nolan closes his eyes briefly as I grin shamelessly.
“Good morning, Diane.”
“You bringing her flowers today?” Diane asks Nolan.
A wave of heat washes over my face, feeling like a thousand tiny sparks.
Nolan sighs dramatically beside me. “Am I legally allowed to exist in this town without public commentary?”
“No,” Diane answers.
Diane starts assembling flowers before Nolan can protest further. She wraps the flowers before handing them toward Nolan with a knowing smile.
“These are the good peonies. Don’t waste them.”
“I’m being threatened by florists now,” Nolan mutters.
I laugh while he pays, then he turns toward me holding the flowers out carefully.
The farmers’ market noise fades around the edges as I take in the look on his face—warm and overwhelmed and entirely sincere.
“For you,” he says.
I take the bouquet. “They’re beautiful.”
His eyes stay on mine another second too long. “Yeah.”
Heat blooms across my skin as I understand the meaning. Diane physically clutches her chest behind the flower stand.
“Oh, they’re disgusting,” she whispers emotionally.
I burst into startled laughter.
Nolan groans beside me. “I need everyone in this town to mind their business.”
“Never happening,” I tell him cheerfully.
He narrows his eyes before leaning closer.
“You’re enjoying this too much.”
The warmth in his voice slides low through my stomach anyway.
“Maybe.”
Nolan’s gaze lingers on my mouth for one dangerous second. Too intimate for a public farmers’ market.
His thumb brushes lightly across my knuckles. A tiny contact. Still enough to send warmth spiraling through me.
“You busy later?”
“Depends,” I say lightly.
“On?”
I step just close enough that our shoulders brush fully.
“What you want.”
Nolan’s face transforms instantaneously.
God, that look should honestly be illegal. I can practically see every restrained thought passing through his head all at once. And judging by the roughness in his voice when he answers, he’s losing the ability to hide how much he wants me too.
“Dangerous answer, Hadley.”
By late afternoon the next day, Nolan has texted me five times. None of the messages should make me as happy as they do. Yet every time my phone lights up with his name, warmth spreads through my chest so quickly it feels automatic now. It’s like my body recognizes him before my brain catches up.
“You’re smiling at your phone again.”
I glance up from the front desk at A Page in Time. Bailey sits curled in the reading nook with a romance novel and entirely too much judgment.
“You’re supposed to be working.”
“I’ve reorganized the same display three times and decided it was time for a break.”
The late afternoon sunlight spills gold through the lighthouse windows while tourists wander between shelves and coffee tables. The bookstore smells like paperbacks, espresso, and sea salt, drifting through cracked windows from the bay outside.
Usually being here calms me. Today I’m too aware of Nolan existing somewhere across town.
Bailey turns another page thoughtfully. “You know what’s funny?”
“Nothing good ever follows that sentence.”
“You used to swear you’d never be the girl who rearranged her schedule for a man.”
A searing wave washes over my skin. Because yes, that does sound like me. Or at least it did before Nolan started existing in my life like a tidal shift I never saw coming.
The terrifying part? I don’t feel like I’m losing myself with him. I feel more myself. It’s a feeling that settles into place while I straighten a stack of new releases near the register.
“I think that’s different,” I admit.
Bailey lowers her book.
“How?”
I glance toward the marina, faintly visible through the lighthouse windows.
“With Nolan…” I struggle briefly for the right words. “It doesn’t feel like I’m shrinking my life to fit someone else.” Emotion catches in my chest. “It feels like my life got bigger.”
Silence settles warmly between us, then Bailey smiles.
“Oh. You’re really in love with him.”
The awareness unfolds inside me while golden light spills through the bookstore. A helpless laugh escapes me.
“Oh no,” Bailey whispers dramatically. “That face means you admitted it internally.”
I cover my face briefly with both hands.
“This feels emotionally aggressive.”
“You’re literally glowing.”
The bookstore bell jingles before I can defend myself further. The entire room shifts as Nolan walks in carrying coffee.
My entire body reacts.
Sunlight catches against his shoulders while marina wind still clings faintly to his clothes. He looks tired, windswept, and completely devastating in a dark T-shirt and jeans.
And the second he sees me? It’s that look again. An impossible tenderness blooms on his face, making it seem like I’m precisely what he’s been searching for.
The feeling crashes through my chest so hard it nearly hurts.
God, I’m done for.
Bailey watches both of us carefully from her chair.
“Oh, they’re absolutely getting married someday.”
“Bailey,” I hiss.
Nolan stops walking.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I say.
“Everything,” Bailey says at the same time.
Traitor.
Nolan narrows his eyes suspiciously while approaching the counter. “You two are terrifying together.”
“Correct,” Bailey answers.
Then, because she enjoys chaos professionally, she stands up and announces,
“I’m going upstairs to respect sexual-tension boundaries before someone climbs across furniture.”
I close my eyes briefly.
Nolan watches Bailey disappear toward the second floor before looking back at me. “Should I be concerned?”
Warmth floods my face. “No.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Nolan steps fully behind the counter, then into my space. Close enough that warmth rolls across my skin. Like my body already knows exactly what to do with his.
“I brought you coffee,” he says.
“You were nearby?” I ask.
One corner of his mouth lifts. “No.”
Not nearby, but he came here anyway. For me.
“You drove across town to bring me coffee?”
Nolan shrugs one shoulder like it’s nothing, but the faint pink creeping along the back of his neck betrays him. “I missed you.”
The breath leaves my lungs completely. He says it so simply. No performance. No games. Just truth.
And strangely, loving Nolan feels less like falling and more like being claimed by tenderness. “Nolan,” I whisper.
His eyes hold mine steadily, and for one suspended second, the entire bookstore fades away. Nolan reaches up and brushes his knuckles lightly against my cheek.
A tiny touch. Still intimate enough to make my pulse stumble hard.
“You know what’s dangerous?” he murmurs.
“What?”
“I think seeing you has become the best part of my day.”
Late that night, rain streaks across the marina windows, turning the dock lights outside into soft ribbons of gold that shimmer against the water.
I pause outside Nolan’s apartment for a second before letting myself in. It already feels natural. Somewhere along the way, this place stopped feeling like his and started feeling a little like ours.
The thought sends a quiet warmth through my chest.
The apartment is dim except for the kitchen light spilling across the hardwood floors. My overnight bag slips from my shoulder as I step inside.
“Nolan?”
No answer.
I round the corner and find him standing at the windows overlooking Back Bay. One hand is tucked into his pocket, and the other is wrapped around a mug that’s probably gone cold by now.
Even from across the room, something feels...off.
“You’ve got that face again,” I say.
He glances over his shoulder, and the smile he gives me is real—but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“What face?”
“The one where you’re pretending everything’s fine.”
A quiet laugh escapes him.
“So I have a face now?”
“You absolutely have a face.”
His shoulders loosen just enough that I know I’ve pulled him back from wherever his thoughts had wandered.
I cross the room until I’m standing in front of him. Without thinking, his hands settle around my waist. Like they were always meant to.
God.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how safe that feels.
“You okay?” I ask.
His thumb brushes absentmindedly along my side.
“Yeah.”
I lift an eyebrow.
“Liar.”
Another small laugh.
“Fair.”
Silence settles between us, broken only by the steady rhythm of rain against the windows. I study him for another second. He’s looking past me now, toward the marina, but I know him well enough to recognize when he’s hiding inside his own head.
“Nolan.”
His eyes find mine again.
“I’ve never had this before.”
The words are so quiet I almost miss them.
“What?”
His gaze drops between us.
“This.”
The single word lands with surprising weight.
He swallows before continuing.
“Someone who wants to stay.”
My chest tightens so suddenly it almost hurts knowing his fear that everyone eventually leaves.
I reach up and cup his cheek.
His eyes close for the briefest second, leaning almost imperceptibly into my touch.
“You know the worst part?” he asks.
“What?”
“I don’t think I know how to keep any distance from you anymore.”
Emotion swells so quickly I have to blink against it. I don’t want distance either. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Not six months from now.
“I don’t,” I whisper. “I don’t want distance from you either.”
Something shifts behind his eyes. Not relief exactly. Permission. Like he’d been carrying those words around, waiting for someone to tell him it was safe to set them down.
He rests his forehead against mine.
“I get scared sometimes.”
My hands slide to the back of his neck.
“Of what?”
His voice roughens.
“Wanting this enough that losing it would wreck me.”
The confession steals every bit of air from my lungs. Because underneath everything else—his confidence, his steady hands, the way he always takes care of everyone around him—he’s still that little boy who learned too early that people don’t stay.
I smooth my thumb across his jaw.
“I think that’s normal.”
He raises his eyes to meet my gaze.
“I think loving someone enough to be afraid of losing them is part of loving them.”
The hard lines on his face relax.
“But you keep acting like I’m the brave one because I’m willing to stay.” I shake my head. “Nolan, you’re the one who stayed. You stayed when the marina got difficult. You stayed when this town started making room for you. You stayed when my family invaded every corner of your life.”
His mouth twitches.
“And you still haven’t figured out that staying is something you’re really damn good at.”
A tear gathers in the corner of his eye before he blinks it away. My own vision blurs.
“I love you.”
The words are barely louder than the rain. For one suspended heartbeat, I can’t move. Not because I’m surprised, but because hearing them out loud makes everything real.
“Oh, Nolan...”
He starts to shake his head.
“I know. That was probably—”
I don’t let him finish. Instead, I kiss him. Hard enough to stop every doubt before it can leave his mouth.
His arms wrap around me with a quiet desperation that breaks my heart and puts it back together all at once.
When we finally pull apart, I rest my forehead against his and smile through tears.
“I love you too.”
The words feel less like a confession than a promise. His eyes close, and his shoulders sag.
And in that single breath, I watch years of loneliness begin to loosen their grip.
Outside, rain continues to fall across the marina. Neither of us lets go.