Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

LAWSON

Two weeks in Cedar Cove, and everything feels . . . different.

I stand at the edge of the harbor, the sun just starting to dip behind the horizon, casting the water in shades of gold and amber. A breeze rolls in from the ocean, carrying that familiar salty scent I’ve started to love. It’s quiet here, the kind of quiet that doesn’t make you itch to check your phone or fill the silence with something meaningless. It’s the kind of quiet that settles into your bones, making you forget there’s anywhere else you need to be.

When I first came here, this was just another project. Another piece of real estate to acquire, renovate, and turn a profit. But now? Now I wonder if I’ve missed something important in every other town where I’ve done business. How many places have I walked through with blinders on, too focused on spreadsheets and ROI to notice the soul beneath the surface?

And Cedar Cove? This place hums with life in a way that feels . . . different. It’s not just the picturesque streets or the historic storefronts—it’s the way people care. The way they look out for one another, how they stop in the middle of the street to catch up, like time isn’t a luxury but something they share. This town has a heartbeat, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’ve finally slowed down enough to hear it.

I went to the house where my grandfather grew up, touched the faded wood of the porch railing he must’ve leaned against as a boy—it hit me harder than I expected. I didn’t just feel his presence. I felt something deeper. Like I was meant to find this place. Like maybe he knew I needed this.

And now I want that house. Not as a project. Not as another line on my portfolio. I want it to be mine, a place to belong to.

And Remi . . . she’s become a part of that.

She’s the one who showed me everything—the town, the stories, the hidden corners you’d miss if you were only passing through. She did it reluctantly at first, but somewhere along the way, that frustration melted into something else. And so did mine.

I didn’t expect to fall for her. I’ve built my life on control, on never letting anyone get too close. But every time she laughs something shifts inside me, loosening things I didn’t even know were locked.

She’s stubborn, opinionated, and wildly passionate. And God help me, I think I’m falling in love with her.

We’ve come to a compromise. We’re partnering. I’m investing in her inn, in her ideas. With the money, she’s paid off the liens and the backed-up mortgage. The council and the bank? They don’t have any claim over the future of the Caldwell Inn anymore.

It’s just us—building something together, planning a future that preserves the history this town holds dear.

I spot her across the courtyard, heading toward me, and the light catches in her hair. That pull hits me again—sharp and deep—the one that makes me want to be near her. Even when she’s mad at me. Especially when she’s mad at me.

Her steps are quick but sure, like she’s on a mission. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and I feel it again—that ache low in my chest that hasn’t let up since the first time she smiled at me.

She stops in front of me, eyes bright with purpose, that familiar fire dancing just beneath the surface.

“You ready?” she asks, a little breathless but grinning like she already knows the answer.

I nod, unable to look away from her. “Always.”

Her smile softens, and for a moment, it’s just us—no council meetings, no bank deadlines, no grand plans. Just her. Just me.

And I think, Yeah. This is exactly where I want to be.

“Thank you, Remi.”

She turns to me, her brows knitting together. “For what?”

“For showing me what I was missing.” I meet her gaze, holding it this time, no smirks or teasing to hide behind. “Not just here. Everywhere.”

Her lips part slightly, the way her fingers curl at her sides, like she’s trying to keep herself steady.

“Lawson . . .” she starts, but the words trail off, lost in the space between us.

I step closer, not enough to crowd her, just enough to let her know that I’m here. That I mean it.

“I didn’t just fall for this town,” I admit, my voice quiet but sure. “I think I’m falling for you, too.”

Her breath catches, and for a moment, everything hangs in the air between us—fragile, waiting. Then she closes the space, rising onto her toes, her lips brushing against mine like a promise.

The kiss is soft at first, hesitant, but it deepens, slow and deliberate, like we’ve both been waiting for this moment longer than we realized. Her hands slide up to my chest, grounding us, and I feel it—the shift, the certainty settling into place.

When she pulls back just slightly, her forehead rests against mine, her breath warm and steady.

“I’m falling for you, too,” she whispers, the words so quiet they feel like they belong only to us.

I press a kiss to her temple, holding her close. I know we’re going to be okay. Because Cedar Cove isn’t just a project anymore. It’s home.

And maybe—just maybe—Remi will be, too.