Tides of Home

Close Quarters

The light above the counter flickered as Ellie reached for the last spool of fishing line on the top shelf, her fingers brushing air. She swore under her breath and stretched higher, toes lifting off the floor.

“Need a hand?” came the low voice behind her.

She didn’t need to turn. She knew that voice now—knew the way it curled around her like warm smoke.

“I’ve got it,” she said, wincing as her balance shifted.

“Sure you do,” Callum muttered, stepping closer.

She felt him before she saw him. His chest brushed lightly against her back as he reached over her shoulder, arm sliding past hers to grab the spool with frustrating ease. The air between them shifted. Warm. Charged.

He handed it to her slowly, his fingers grazing hers. His skin was calloused, familiar, and entirely too distracting.

She turned, stepping back only to bump against the counter.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice slightly breathless.

Callum didn’t move. He just looked at her—really looked. Like he was trying to figure out if the years had changed her or only made her more of who she’d always been.

“You’re different,” he said.

Ellie blinked. “So are you.”

He smiled faintly, his eyes dropping to her lips for just a second. “You’re still stubborn.”

“And you’re still smug.”

The words were old habits, teasing and warm. But the air between them had grown tight. Heavy with everything unsaid.

“I stopped by to bring you these,” he said finally, pulling a folder from under his arm. “Some permits for the dock. Figured I’d help since you’re… not exactly up on local paperwork.”

“I could’ve handled it.”

“I know,” he said. But his voice was softer now. “Doesn’t mean you have to.”

She swallowed hard, her pulse thrumming in her neck.

He was standing too close. Or maybe not close enough.

There was a silence, thick with heat and something almost reckless.

Callum leaned forward slightly. “You ever think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t left?”

Ellie’s breath caught. “All the time.”

His eyes darkened. His hand rested on the edge of the counter, inches from hers. “You broke my heart.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered.

“I know.”

Another beat. Another almost.

Then, just when she thought he might kiss her, Callum stepped back. The air cooled instantly.

“I’ll be around,” he said, his voice low and rough. “If you need anything.”

And then he was gone, the door creaking closed behind him.

Ellie leaned against the counter, her heart racing, her fingers tingling from the place where his had touched.

Whatever they’d buried was starting to rise.

And this time, it wouldn’t go quietly.