Chapter 16 Ethan
Ethan
The coffee maker gurgles softly as pre-dawn light creeps through my kitchen windows. I’m standing in pajama pants, bare feet pressed against the cool wood floor, staring out at the ocean.
My internal clock doesn’t care that I’m not opening the Whisk. Though today, waking early feels like a gift. It gives me time to process the impossible: Alexandra Sinclair is asleep in my bed.
I take a sip of coffee and let memories of last night wash over me.
Her skin glowing in moonlight. The way she said my name.
How desperately I wanted to show her every part of myself—even the parts that terrify others.
But mostly, I remember the peace. Despite the nearly full moon hanging heavy in the sky, despite my magic usually running wild during lunar events, everything inside me had been still.
Like somehow, she anchored me—held the chaos at bay without even trying.
Setting my mug down, I walk back to the bedroom doorway.
She’s curled on her side, my quilt tucked around her waist, her bare shoulder gleaming in the silvery pre-dawn light.
Her hair spreads across my pillow like spun gold, and her face.
.. God, her face in sleep. All the sharp edges of the renowned food critic have melted away, leaving something soft and precious.
She looks like she belongs here. Like she’s meant to be tangled in my sheets every morning, sharing coffee and lazy kisses before the rest of the world wakes.
The thought sends an ache through my chest. Because she can’t stay.
Dean lives three cottages down, and if word gets back to the Council that I’m getting too close to a non-magical human again.
.. I close my eyes, remembering Sarah’s terror, my magic overwhelming me, the chaos that followed.
I won’t risk Alex like that. Won’t risk the entire community’s safety for my own desires.
But standing here, watching her sleep, it’s hard to remember all the reasons this is dangerous.
She shifts, and my quilt slips lower, revealing the delicate slope of her shoulder, the smooth line of her collarbone.
My fingers itch to trace constellations between the freckles dusting her shoulders.
To wake her with gentle kisses and whispered promises.
The coffee maker gives a final sputter in the background, breaking my reverie. I should rouse her soon, get her back to the B&B before the town stirs. Before Dean does his morning check-in. Before—
“You’re thinking too loud,” Alex mumbles against the pillow.
My heart stutters. She blinks sleepily at me and everything else falls away. The Council, Dean, my own fears—none of it matters when she’s looking at me like that.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “Habit. Baker’s hours and all that.”
She stretches, catlike and graceful, before sitting up. The quilt pools around her waist, and my mouth goes dry. “Tell me you at least made enough coffee for two?”
I smirk. “Stay in bed. I’ll bring you some.”
I push off the doorframe and head to the kitchen, the scent of fresh brew filling the air. It’s automatic, the way I move through the motions—pouring, placing the mug just the way I like it—except this time, it’s not for me.
When I return, she’s sitting up, the quilt pooled around her. I hand her the cup, and she takes a slow sip, then sighs in appreciation. “You make a strong case for the merits of small-town coastal life.”
“That’s just the Sumatra Mandheling speaking,” I say, but my chest tightens at her words.
Because god, do I wish it was true. Wish I could give her mornings like this stretched out endlessly—strong coffee and ocean breezes, lazy kisses and shared silence.
Wish I could show her the real magic of small-town life, not just the curated version we present to tourists.
When I glance at the clock, reality sets back in. Dean rises early. Always has. And the way he watches me, especially during lunar events...
“Actually,” I say, hating myself a little, “maybe we should get you back to the B&B before too many people are up and about.”
Her expression falls for just a moment before she covers it with a smirk. “Ashamed to be seen with me, Chief?”
“Never.” The word comes out fiercer than I intended, because it’s true. If anything, I’m not worthy of being seen with her. “It’s just...”
“A small town where people talk?” She finishes for me, her tone knowing. “And certain people might not approve?”
I run a hand through my hair, probably making it even messier than sleep left it. “Something like that.”
She thinks this is just about small-town gossip, about people talking over their morning pastries at the Whisk.
But all I can think about is Dean, how he’d blow a gasket if he found out about this—no matter how carefully I’d kept my magic in check last night, no matter that the full moon hadn’t affected me at all around her.
Some things he’d never understand, and Alex Sinclair in my bed is definitely one of them.
She studies me for a long moment, and I have to fight the urge to look away. Sometimes her gaze is so sharp, so perceptive, I worry she’ll see right through me. See the magic thrumming beneath my skin, the darkness lurking in my bones.
Finally, she rises from the bed and walks over to where I’d left a button-down draped over the back of a chair. My breath catches as she slips it on—the hem falling to mid-thigh. Somehow seeing her in my clothes is more intimate than seeing her wearing nothing at all.
She pads over and rises on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to my lips. “Do I have time to finish my coffee?”
“Of course.” I glance toward the window, where the sky is still deep indigo, the first hints of dawn barely creeping over the horizon. Magnolia Cove is still asleep—for now.
“Alright, Mr. Hart. But you owe me breakfast another time.”
The promise in her words makes my chest ache. Because there shouldn’t be another time. I shouldn’t even be allowing this time. But as she slips her hand into mine, warm and sure, I can’t bring myself to tell her that.
“You’re cute when you’re worried,” she whispers against my mouth.
I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “And you’re beautiful when you’re asleep.”
“I am?” Her voice is soft, almost shy—so different from her usual confident tone. Her fingers trace patterns on my chest, and I wonder if she can feel my heart thundering beneath them.
“You are.” I brush hair back from her face, letting my thumb graze her cheek. “The way the moonlight plays across your skin. How peaceful you look.” I pause, realizing how that must sound. “I’m sorry. That’s creepy, isn’t it?”
But Alex just smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “No, it’s sweet. Though I’m surprised you could see me at all, given how thoroughly I stole all your blankets.”
“I noticed that too.” A laugh spills from me as I remember how I’d found her completely cocooned in my quilt. “I didn’t take you for a blanket thief.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
Her tone is teasing, but something in her eyes makes my breath catch. Because I want to know everything about her—every habit, every quirk, every dream she’s ever had. But I can’t reciprocate that openness. Can’t let her truly know me.
The realization sits like lead in my stomach. Here she is, vulnerable and trusting in my arms, while I hide the most fundamental truths about myself.
We dress quickly, hands brushing, fingers lingering—stealing every touch we can in the quiet between us. A whispered laugh, the accidental graze of her lips against my shoulder, the warmth of her palm on my back.
And then, too soon, it’s time to go. I pour her a to-go cup of coffee, pressing it into her hands like it’s the only thing I can give her.
“Wait,” I say as she reaches for the door handle. “Let me check first.”
Alex raises an eyebrow as I peer through the front window like a teenager sneaking out past curfew. “You realize I’ve been staying at a B&B in town for weeks? People have seen me before.”
“Yes, but...” Not like this. Not with morning-mussed hair and wrinkled clothing, practically glowing from a night of... I clear my throat. “Just humor me?”
Her laugh is soft and fond. “Whatever you say, Chief.”
The coast looks clear. Dean’s cottage shows no signs of life, though that doesn’t mean much. The man moves like a shadow when he wants. I guide Alex onto the porch, wincing at every creak of the old boards beneath our feet.
We make it down the steps and halfway up the beach path before I relax. Maybe we’ll actually pull this off—
“Well, well, well!”
We freeze. The voice carries with it such delighted mischief that I don’t even need to turn around to know who it is.
Alex’s hand tightens in mine as Zoe practically bounces into view, her purple hair wild in its morning bun, grinning like she’s just discovered the secret ingredient to my banana bread recipe.
“Aren’t you supposed to be opening the Whisk?” I try to keep my voice casual, but it comes out more like a plea.
“Aren’t you supposed to be maintaining professional boundaries with our resident food critic?” She wiggles her eyebrows at me before shifting her grin to Alex, mischief written all over her face. “Those overalls are looking a bit more wrinkled than they did at the Bonanza, City Girl. Late night?”
Alex bursts out laughing, but my face burns. “Zoe—”
“Don’t worry, Boss.” She mimes zipping her lips, but her eyes dance with unholy glee. “Though work on your sneaking skills. Even Mrs. Delehay’s Pomeranian is stealthier than you two.” She cocks an eyebrow. “I thought city girls had mastered the art of the stealthy exit.”
I think I actually feel the color drain from my face. But Alex just shrugs. “Can’t say I have much experience with sneaking out. But I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
The implication of Alex’s words hits me like a physical force.
She doesn’t do this—doesn’t spend nights with men she barely knows, doesn’t sneak out of their homes in wrinkled clothes.
The gravity of that settles in my chest, warm and terrifying all at once.
Because this isn’t casual for her either.
Last night wasn’t just about desire or convenience.
But if she’s all in, even unknowingly, then I’m putting her at risk.
And that makes everything more complicated. More dangerous. More precious.
Zoe must read something in my expression because her teasing smile softens into something gentler. “Well, your secret’s safe with me, Sugar.” She backs away, but can’t quite resist adding, “Though Mia’s going to groan when I tell her I was right.”
“Right about what?” Alex asks.
“Nothing!” I say quickly, probably too quickly judging by both women’s knowing looks.
“I’ve got to run.” Zoe shoots me another grin—a grin that says tomorrow at work, she will hound me until I either confess every detail or beg for mercy. Probably both. “Some of us actually have to work today. Try not to look too happy when Dean does his morning rounds, Boss.”
She disappears around the corner, leaving us in the pre-dawn quiet.
Alex’s hand is still warm in mine, and when I look down at her, the soft light catching in her eyes steals my breath.
The sun is just beginning to paint the horizon in watercolor pinks and golds, and she looks.
.. right. Like she belongs here, walking these familiar streets with me, as if we’ve done this a hundred mornings before.
“Come on,” I say, my voice rougher than intended. “Let’s get you back.”
But as we walk, our footsteps falling into a peaceful rhythm, I can’t help but wonder if I’m making a mistake.
If I’m already in too deep. The Council’s rules exist for a reason—I know that better than most. One slip of control, one moment of weakness, and I could destroy everything.
Not just the town’s secrets, but Alex’s trust. Her safety.
Her smile when she looks at me like I’m something precious instead of something to fear.
And yet.
And yet, when her fingers tighten around mine, when she leans into me as a cool morning breeze sweeps in from the ocean, I can’t bring myself to pull away. Maybe that makes me selfish. Maybe it makes me dangerous.
Or maybe it makes me human. The most human I’ve felt since the Council bound my magic and banished me here.
Dean would say I’m falling into old patterns, taking risks I can’t afford. But as Alex’s thumb traces absent patterns against my palm, as the seabirds wheel overhead and the town slowly stirs to life around us, I realize something that terrifies me more than any Council decree:
I don’t care.
I don’t care about the rules or the risks or the consequences.
Because for the first time since I arrived in Magnolia Cove, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Walking these quiet streets with a woman who makes me forget about the darkness beneath my skin.
Who makes me believe that maybe, just maybe, I deserve a chance at something real.
Even if that chance might cost me everything.