Page 29 of Back in the Bay

"My treat," I insist. "Consider it thirteen years of missed dates I'm making up for."

She laughs a sound that makes the room brighter. "That's a lot of dinners, Bennett."

"I'm good for it," I promise, and we both know I'm talking about more than just food.

Outside, the December air has turned crisp and cold. Mabel shivers slightly, and I drape my jacket over her shoulderswithout thinking. She burrows into it, looking up at me with a softness that makes my chest ache.

"Want to walk down to the pier?" she asks. "For old time's sake?"

I nod, not trusting my voice. We stroll through town, our shoulders brushing, Mabel's hand occasionally finding mine. Cedar Bay at night has always been beautiful—Christmas lights twinkling in shop windows, the distant sound of waves against the shore—but with Mabel beside me, it's magical.

The pier is deserted this time of year, just the two of us and the vast, dark ocean stretching out before us. We stop at the railing, and Mabel turns to face me, her back against the wooden post.

"I used to come here on the rare occasions I visited my parents," she confesses. "Hoping I might run into you."

"I avoided it," I admit. "Too many memories."

She nods, understanding. "And now?"

"Now I'm wondering why I wasted so much time staying away."

Her hands find the front of my shirt, fingers curling into the fabric. "We were kids, Cole. We needed to grow up, figure out who we were apart from each other."

"And now?" I echo her question, my hands settling on her waist, drawing her closer.

"Now I think we've done enough growing up apart," she whispers.

When I kiss her, it's like coming home after a long, exhausting journey. Her lips are soft and eager against mine, her body fitting perfectly against me as if we were designed as two halves of the same whole. I pour thirteen years of longing into that kiss, and she meets me with equal fervor, her fingers threading through my hair.

We break apart, breathless, foreheads pressed together. The Christmas lights from the pier reflect in her eyes like stars.

"Stay with me tonight," I whisper against her lips.

She nods once. “I told my parents not to expect me home until morning.”

I laugh, pressing another kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Always thinking ahead, counselor."

"One of us has to," she teases, taking my hand and leading me back toward the car.

As we walk, I realize I've never felt more certain about anything in my life. Portland, Cedar Bay—it doesn't matter. Home isn't a place. It's the woman beside me, her hand in mine, leading me toward a future that suddenly seems blindingly bright.

mabel

. . .

I never expectedto end up in Cole Bennett's bed again, but some homecomings defy all logic.

The drive to his place passes in charged silence, our hands finding each other across the console like magnets. The same calloused fingers that used to trace patterns on my skin in high school now belong to a man—one who builds houses instead of dreams about them.

His cabin sits nestled among cedar trees––exactly where I pictured it would be all these years—simple, sturdy, unmistakably Cole.

"I renovated it myself," he says, watching my face as he unlocks the door. "Took three years."

"Of course you did," I murmur, running my hand along the hand-carved banister. "Some things never change."

Inside, the space feels like him—practical yet surprisingly beautiful in its craftsmanship. Before I can catalog more details, his mouth is on mine, hungry and certain. My body responds instantly, muscle memory kicking in like I never left Cedar Bay.

"Mabel," he breathes against my neck. "I've thought about this for ten years."

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