The moment Elena Hartley stepped out of her dusty car and into the salty wind of Evermare, she knew things were different here. The town was small, wrapped in cliffs and sea foam, the kind of place where everyone knew your name—or, in Elena's case, would want to know why you'd come.
She tightened her coat around her and took a deep breath. Behind her, the winding road she'd traveled for hours stretched like a lifeline she had finally let go of. Ahead, the old lighthouse loomed like a ghost from another life. Her new life.
The cottage she'd rented sat at the edge of a crumbling bluff, overlooking the ocean. The realtor had called it quaint. Elena called it perfectly isolated.
As she opened the door, the faint scent of sea air and forgotten lilacs greeted her. Dust motes danced in the shafts of light spilling through lace curtains. The cottage was quiet, still, like it was waiting to breathe again.
She didn't notice the man standing at the end of the dock until much later—broad-shouldered, still as stone, and staring out into the horizon.
He didn't turn when she stepped outside.
He wouldn't speak to her until three days later.
And he wouldn't kiss her until the stars came out—sharp and burning over the sea.