Page 57 of Tides of Change
“Wow,” I whispered.
The Pelican Point Lighthouse was stunning—a 115-foot conical tower of whitewashed brick rising stark against the vivid blue of the sky. At its base, waves crashed against jagged rocks, and beyond them, at low tide, a colony of harbor seals basked in the sun on a rocky reef. Their barks punctuated the rhythmic sounds of the surf. Above the seals, pelicans glided in long, graceful lines, their wings skimming the water.
Garrett pulled into the gravel lot and shut off the engine. “You’re going to love this,” he said with a grin. “It’s one of Noah’s favorite places.”
As we walked toward the lighthouse, gulls wheeled above us, their sharp cries carried by the breeze. The chilly, briny air stung my cheeks, but Garrett’s presence beside me kept me warm.
The lighthouse itself was closed for restoration, but we wandered the grounds, taking in the view. Nearby lay an enormous chunk of a schooner’s hull—a haunting relic of a shipwreck.
“This place has history,” Garrett said with a quiet reverence.
In the old fog signal building, we explored exhibits detailing the lighthouse’s 145-year-old story. The centerpiece was the original first-order Fresnel lens, a massive, brass-encased beehive that had once sent its beacon miles out to sea. The prisms and bull’s-eye lenses captured the light pouring through the narrow windows, casting rainbows that shimmered across the room.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmured and stepped closer to study the intricate glasswork.
“It is.” Garrett stood close beside me, his eyes on me instead of the lens. “Let’s get a picture of us with it in the background.”
I hesitated for a split second. Garrett had been wary of public displays of affection. But something in his tone told me this moment was a step forward.
He raised his phone and angled it to capture us in front of the lens. At the last second, he turned and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek.
The click of the photo startled me almost as much as the warmth of his lips. I turned to look at him, our lips a breath away, and my heart caught at the softness in his expression.
“What?” His crooked grin teased me.
“Nothing,” I said, though my throat was tight. “Just…thank you.”
“For what?”
“For this.” I gestured to the lens, the room, the day. But what I really meant washim.For showing me that this—us—wasn’t something to hide. At least, outside of Seacliff Cove. The implications for his career if we were found out in town were something I understood.
His hand found mine as we left the building, fingers intertwining. The simple touch sent heat radiating through me.
The drive back was quieter, a silence that felt like companionship rather than awkwardness. My thoughts lingered on the moment he’d kissed me, the casual ease of it, and the weight of what it meant.
When we pulled into the driveway, Harper’s car was there. Garrett frowned, and he reached for the door handle. “She wasn’t supposed to be here yet.”
Concern tightened his voice, and I reached out and brushed his arm with my hand. “Maybe it’s nothing.”
But the worry didn’t leave his face as he stepped out of the vehicle. My heart, still full from the day’s quiet revelations, now held a flutter of unease. Whatever awaited us inside, it couldn’t erase the implications of his actions at the lighthouse—but I knew our time was over for the day. I rushed after Garrett, my chest tight.
The front door flew open as we approached, and Noah launched himself onto the porch like a small whirlwind. “Daddy! I missed you!”
Garrett dropped to one knee just in time to catch Noah and wrapped him up in a hug that looked like it was the answer to every unspoken prayer. “I missed you, too, buddy,” Garrett murmured, his voice thick. He kissed Noah’s cheek and held him close.
My heart squeezed. The sight of them together was enough to make my guilt blare to life like a warning siren. I’d kept themapart. Because of me, Noah had been homesick. Because of me, Garrett had missed his son.
A woman—a few years younger than Garrett—appeared in the doorway and leaned against the frame with her arms crossed and an affectionate smile tugging at her lips. Her dark hair fell in waves around her face, and her piercing blue eyes—so much like his—darted to mine with an assessing glance.
“He wanted to come home early,” she said. “Kept asking for his daddy, so here we are.”
Garrett stood, his arm still draped protectively over Noah’s shoulders. “I’m glad you brought him back,” he said, his gaze full of gratitude. “Thanks, Harper.”
She waved him off with a grin. “You know I’d never keep him from you.” Her eyes flicked to me again, her expression curious but kind. “I’m Harper. You must be Ethan. My parents mentioned you.”
“Uh, yeah,” I said, my voice uneven. I extended a hand, feeling more exposed than ever. Did Garrett’s family know I’d brought danger to his doorstep? Judging by Harper’s grin, I doubted it. So I simply said, “Nice to meet you.”
Harper’s handshake was firm. “Same here. Don’t let him scare you off,” she added with a nod toward Garrett.
