Chapter 31
Kelly
I park in the shadow of the lighthouse, where I spot Jake’s truck alongside several others. The second I step out of my car, goosebumps break out over my arms. It’s barely afternoon and already the air’s got that bite.
There was a thin layer of frost and snow on the ground this morning, and more snow and bitterly cold weather are just around the corner. I pull my jacket tighter and grab my bag holding a notebook and a selection of pens, slide my cell into my pocket, and push on—because the mayor’s vision for Founder’s Day waits for no one, especially not me.
There’s a scent in the air that’s pure winter—pine and earth and a chill that says summer’s a memory now. But that knowledge only flames the determination inside. This is it, the home stretch, my chance to pull off the biggest and best festival that Harbor’s Edge has ever seen. A chance to really make Mom proud.
I weave through the field, dodging stacks of timber and half-assembled structures. Jake’s crew is spread out, focused and efficient, moving between the wooden arches, eco-friendly designs, and wooden frames for the larger installations. The thrum of drills and the steady thud of hammers fill the crisp air, mixing with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore.
One of the guys is up on a ladder, securing part of the main stage, while another is measuring out a space for a composting station. The solar-powered lights are being tested nearby, and as I look at the glowing bulbs, it hits me again how this is so much bigger than just a festival. It’s a statement. Everything we’re doing here—from the sustainable food stalls to the zero-waste policies—will show people what’s possible.
I pull out my cell and snap some photos, before catching sight of another team member fitting wooden seating together, the benches forming a perfect circle around the centerpiece bonfire pit.
The trees, bare branches swaying in the cold wind, frame the site perfectly. I take a deep breath, inhaling the cool air, and let myself bask in the moment. It’s hard to believe we’re so close to pulling this off—our marketing campaign is already in full swing, and interest in the event has been strong. This is exactly what Harbor’s Edge needed. Despite the looming threat of winter storms, everything is coming together.
My boots squelch against the damp ground as I walk around, taking more progress photos to show the mayor. And sure, there’s a part of me that knows I’m tempting fate by feeling so pleased with our progress. That same old fear tries to claw its way up my throat, worried about storms and disasters waiting to strike. But it’s easy to push those worries and anxieties aside when everything is going so well.
The wind kicks up and I’m so engrossed watching the team work that I don’t even notice Jake approaching until his shadow falls beside me. Glancing up, the sight of him stops me short.
He stands there, the wind tousling his dark hair. His hoodie is pulled snug across his broad shoulders, the fabric straining ever so slightly over the broad of his chest—muscles honed by hours of honest work.
His hands hang loose at his sides, but there’s an ease in his stance that makes my pulse quicken. There’s something about him that’s always felt solid, confident. He’s the kind of guy you could lean on, even if you never intended to.
Something jolts inside me. My heart’s forgotten how to beat for a second, before jumpstarting into an all-out race. It’s ridiculous, really—how after all these years, after everything, Jake Tanner can still stir something in me with just a glance. His eyes, dark and intense, lock onto mine, and for a moment, the whole world slows down. The hum of drills, the hammering, the wind—they all fade into the background, leaving just us.
“Hey,” he says, his voice low.
“Hey,” I manage, trying to keep my voice steady, though the buzz of energy between us is anything but calm. I tuck a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “Looks like everything’s coming together. I’m just here to take some photos to include in my status report to the mayor and the rest of the committee.”
He scans the festival grounds. “The mayor should be happy with our progress. Any news on the storms that have been predicted?”
“Everyone’s waiting and watching and hoping for the best. There’s going to be snow and lots of it, but no one’s sure how bad the storms will be. At least, that’s what I heard on the grapevine at work. Patrick’s probably got more information than me.” I glance at my watch. “I better get back soon.”
“Walk you to your car?” he offers, and I nod because walking anywhere with Jake sounds a heck of a lot better than walking there alone.
We make our way across the field toward the lighthouse, the setting sun stretching our shadows long and thin. The sky’s ablaze with purples and oranges, and the harbor has been whipped into a frenzy with the wind. With the stark white of the lighthouse rising up in front of us, it’s the kind of view that makes me think of cozy winter fires and fluffy blankets. I glance at Jake, picturing the two of us wrapped up under a soft cable knit throw.
“It’s getting cold.” My breath fogs in front of me as we near the parking lot.
“Here,” Jake says, voice all low and close as he grabs my hand and tugs me toward the lighthouse, out of sight from the bustling crew. Then his arms are around me, shielding me from the wind’s bite, a human fortress. And just like that, the cold’s got nothing on me.
“Better?” he asks, and I can only nod, caught up in him, the solid presence of Jake Tanner reminding me of all the reasons I let myself fall for him once upon a time. And why I’ve fallen for him now.
“Good.” He leans forward, his lips crashing against mine, and the world doesn’t just blur—it spins. There’s a ferocity in his kiss that tells me how much he wants me, while his arms, strong and reassuring, wrap around me.
“God, Kelly,” he breathes against my mouth, and I shiver—not from the cold. “I’ve been thinking about this, about you, every damn day since the weekend.”
“Me too,” I confess, and it’s true—every night, after spending too long exchanging sexy text messages with Jake—I close my eyes and there he is, taking up space in my head.
He leans in again, kissing me, his calloused hands everywhere, reminding me that this man works, builds, creates. Our kiss deepens. He’s trying to make up for lost time, and I’m right there with him.
In the tiny pause when we come up for air, his voice rumbles low, sending vibrations through my core. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself on the weekend when Adele’s at her mom’s.” The words are laced with longing, and I feel them deep in my bones.
“Me too.”
He kisses me again, and for once, I’m not planning or controlling—I’m just living in the raw edge of the moment with him.
“Let’s make it unforgettable,” he says. “I’m going to spend the entire night making you feel good. We’re not leaving the bedroom for any reason, so make sure you’re well hydrated before you come over.”
“You’re not even going to let me drink water?”
His hand moves between my legs, skimming the outside of my jeans. “Only if you’re a very good girl.”
We linger, kissing and copping touches through our winter clothing, breathing each other. We’re both about to be underwater for a long time, and oxygen is scarce. Then he pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, his forehead resting against mine, both of us catching our breath.
“I just had a good idea.” His voice is a little hoarse. “How about you have lunch with me and Adele on Saturday before she goes to her mom’s?”
I blink, the idea catching me off guard. “You sure about that? Do you think Adele’s ready for that? I mean, what are you gonna introduce me as? Just a friend, or...?”
Jake laughs softly, running a thumb across my cheek in that way that makes my heart trip over itself. “I’m introducing you as my girlfriend. Because that’s what you are, right?”
It’s ridiculous how much my stomach flips at that word. Girlfriend . Like I’m back in high school or something. But I don’t care. It makes me stupidly happy. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
He pulls me closer. “You are,” he says firmly. “And it’s gonna be fine. Adele’s a smart kid, and she knows I’m always gonna be here for her. She’s secure in that. She won’t be threatened.”
I can tell how much he believes it. “Have you introduced lots of girlfriends to her?” My tone’s light, teasing, but there’s a little flicker of curiosity, maybe even doubt, beneath it.
Jake laughs, shaking his head. “No. You’re the first.”
That throws me for a second. “The first?”
His expression softens into something more serious. “Yeah. But this isn’t some new thing. We’ve known each other for a long time, Kel. I know how I feel about you. How I never stopped feeling about you.”
He’s right, I realize. This isn’t just some fling. We’ve got history, years of it. And maybe that’s why having lunch with his daughter isn’t that big a deal, especially after everything went so well at her party.
I rest my head against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat grounding me. “Yeah. You’re right.”
Jake tilts my chin up with a finger, brushing a kiss across my lips. “It’s gonna work out.”
I believe him more than I thought I would. Jake’s lips graze mine one final time before I pull back. The sun’s dipping lower, the light fading. “I better go.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.” His eyes are locked onto mine, dark, intense, full of things unsaid because Jake Tanner isn’t a man of many words—unless they’re about wood grains or the right way to hammer a nail.
We walk back to my car, where his hand slides to the curve of my hip, his fingers tracing small, lazy circles that send a shiver through me, a gentle touch that’s somehow more intoxicating than any kiss.
I close my eyes as his breath warms the space between us, his voice rough. “You have no idea how hard it is to let you go.”
I look up at him, caught in his gaze, and for a moment, the world narrows to just us. The look in his eyes is dark, possessive, hungry. “Trust me. I know how hard it is. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
And after all the thousands of times we’ve said that to one another, the words on his lips are still enough to make my heart double, triple in size, squeezing against the cage of my ribs. I slide into the driver’s seat and look up at him through the window, at his strong build silhouetted against the fading light. Harbor’s Edge might be getting colder, but everything about Jake Tanner screams heat.
“Drive safe,” he says.
“Always do,” I reply. And there’s a fire in my chest, burning right into my soul.
He steps back and I start the engine. As I pull away, I glance in the rearview mirror, once, twice, catching Jake watching me leave, his hands shoved into his pockets, his shoulders hunched against the chill.
As I drive away, a memory drifts up, a hidden ember—Jake at seventeen, the way he’d wait for me after school, leaning against his red Camaro with that same easy confidence, his hands tucked into his pockets, a crooked grin ready just for me. He’d always light up the second he saw me, as though I was the only person in the world who mattered.
It’s that same look he gave me today, a mix of pride and fierce loyalty, like he’d do anything to keep me safe, to make me happy. And that’s something I still love about him—his unwavering presence, that silent promise he’s made since we were kids. It’s never faded, even after all this time.