Rafe POV
The dark silhouettes of a couple of joggers ran along the shore, cutting across the pinky-orange sky as the sun sank lower, below the horizon. The sound of waves washing against the shore drifted toward me from one side. The sound was so steady and calming, while traffic hummed from the road on my other side. I tuned the cars out, focusing instead on the ocean—and on the people around our table.
The café Caitlin had chosen was a bright blue, single-story building, busy with life even as the day slipped into night. We chose to sit outside at a cream-colored picnic table; the wood felt smooth and cool against my legs. A red-and-white striped umbrella hung above us, and strings of little lights glowed overhead, casting a soft warmth across the outdoor area.
My feet sank into sand
