Page 27 of When We Are Complete

He holds onto my hand a beat longer than necessary, his eyes never leaving mine. “Alright, we’ll move on as adults. This job—working on the festival—it’s important to me.”

I pull my hand away, folding my arms, as though it’ll somehow lock down the feelings swirling under my skin. “And it’s important to me, too. You know, being back here... It’s more than just a job for me. The success of this festival matters.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “I get that. And this job is a big chance—for both of us.”

“Then let’s not mess it up by focusing on anything other than work. We’ll be professional, get the festival up and running, and make it the best one Harbor’s Edge has ever seen.”

“Professional, right,” he says, but there’s a flicker of something else in his expression. Want.Need. “Just so we’re clear: I’ll do my job, I’ll make sure this festival is everything you want it to be, and I won’t cross any lines.” He pauses, his tone softening. “But if I’m honest? That night wasn’t a mistake for me, Kelly. And I plan to show you just how much I’ve changed.”

The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard, and my heart thuds painfully. But I can't let him see that, can’t let him know how just being near him impacts me.

“Let’s just put everything behind us—for Harbor’s Edge,” I say quickly, to remind us both why we’re standing here making nice.

“Harbor’s Edge,” he echoes. “Alright. Should we get on with this site visit, then?”

I can literally think of nothing worse right now, but we’ve agreed to a truce, and I nod.

Chapter 14

Kelly

I slideinto the passenger seat of Jake’s truck, my pulse quickening the moment his familiar scent—caramel and something woodsy—wraps around me. It’s ridiculous how that smell still does things to me, dragging me back to those high school nights when everything felt easy between us, long before everything turned upside down.

I grip my bag, trying to stop myself from thinking about everything, and try not to notice how close we are in the cab, how easy it would be for our arms to brush. One wrong move, and I’d be right back where I was all those years ago.

And that is not happening again. The wedding night was an aberration, a moment of temporary insanity.Right?

The truck rumbles to life, and Jake glances my way. “So... How’s it feel being back in Harbor’s Edge?”

“Like I never left,” I say, keeping my gaze fixed out the window.

He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Place hasn’t changed much since you left. Still lots of places to make bad decisions.”

I tighten my grip on my bag, trying to shut out the way he looks at me as though we still share the same unspoken secrets. “I see you’re still contributing to the latter.”

Risking a glance at him, he grins. And it’s just as devastating as I remember. “Someone’s gotta keep the tradition alive.”

The conversation stalls, and silence falls between us. I fiddle with the zipper on my bag.

“Settling in okay?” he asks after a beat.

“Yep. Pretty well.”

We hit a curve in the road, the coastline stretching out beside us. My gaze snags on the lighthouse in the distance. We spent so many nights here, daring each other to climb the rocks or sitting wrapped up under a blanket. The good memories press in. It was where Jake and I had some of our best moments—the late-night talks, heated make-out sessions, all those times we broke up and got back together: believing it was inevitable we’d always find each other again.

But it’s the memory of that final night that steals my breath. The way he’d stood there, looking broken, telling me it was over, the beacon overhead flashing across the water.

I force my gaze away, stuffing down the hollowness in my chest.

Jake clears his throat, giving me a sideways glance, as if sensing my retreat. “You and Nora are living together, right? Nora still stirring up trouble wherever she goes?”

“You know it. I think she considers it a public service.”

He laughs, the sound so familiar. “Some things never change.”

No, they don’t.Like the way Jake smells. Or the way his voice can curl around me and make me forget, for a split second, why I shouldn’t be making friendly small talk with him.

We pull into the grassy field behind the lighthouse, and Jake parks the truck before cutting the engine. The quiet crash of the waves against the shore reaches us, and for a moment, neither of us moves.

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