Chapter 109: Jake
I’m trying to focus on the numbers in front of me — the updated fuel logs, the new propeller cost, the goddamn insurance paperwork — but every time Charlie looks up from her laptop, she giggles.
Actually giggles.
Reid and I grunt in unison.
It doesn’t stop her. “Sorry, it’s just—” she gestures at our faces with her pen, “—you two look like you lost a fight with a lawnmower.”
Reid mutters, “Close enough.”
Charlie snorts into her coffee. “You did fight though. You didn’t fall off the dock or something, right?”
We exchange a look — the same silent one we’ve had since this morning that says don’t even start.
So yeah, we had to tell her we fought. Because what else could we possibly say? That we got jumped by a gang of bikers? This is Northhaven — the most excitement we get is a raccoon raiding trash bins.
But what we didn’t tell her, obviously, is why.
Charlie’s enjoying herself too much. “Okay, okay, let me guess again,” she says, leaning back in her chair, all faux detective. “He,” she points at me, “drank the last of your protein smoothie.”
Reid doesn’t look up. “I don’t drink that crap.”
“Fine. He,” she points at Reid this time, “forgot your laptop on the boat.”
“Not even close,” I say, flipping a page a little harder than necessary.
“Hmm.” She taps her chin. “Oh! You were both flirting with the same waitress.”
Reid and I both freeze for a second.
Charlie grins like a cat. “Oh my god. I’m right, aren’t I?”
We grunt again. At this point, it’s our only form of communication.
Charlie laughs so hard she nearly spills her coffee.
When she’s finally done tormenting us, she goes back to her laptop, humming.
Reid finally says quietly, “Did you ever mention us to Madeline?”
Charlie looks up. “Madeline?”
“Yeah. Anything about… us.”
She squints, suspicious now. “What do you mean, about you?”
I shrug like it’s nothing. “Just, you know, if she ever said something weird. Or if you said something to her.”
Charlie narrows her eyes and smirks. “Yeah, I told her you were world-class jerks. Why?”
We grunt. Again.
She laughs. “You two are so weird today.”
If only she knew.
Because when Reid came home last night and told me what Madeline said — about feelings and Charlie and one-sided — I didn’t know whether to laugh or hit something again.
She said she feels safe with him. That’s not small. That’s not nothing.
But she also said she should stay away. Because of Charlie.
Reid was confused, and I still am.
We’ve been trying to figure out what the hell that even means since.
Because it made no damn sense.
Charlie? Charlie?
What the hell does she have to do with any of this?
If Madeline’s worried about Charlie, then worried about what exactly? That she’ll disapprove? That she’ll gossip? That she’ll think less of her? Charlie’s too good-natured for that — she doesn’t care what anyone does as long as they’re happy. And if she’s supposedly some kind of obstacle for Reid, then she should be one for me, too.
She’s my cousin. She’s his cousin.
Whatever reason Madeline thinks Charlie’s a problem, it doesn’t hold up.
Which means either someone said something to her — something that made her think Charlie would be a problem — or Madeline’s just... scared of the wrong thing entirely.
And that pisses me off even more.
Because my brother looked gutted when he said it. He’s trying to keep it together — that quiet, cold control he’s always had — but I know him better than anyone. I can see it in the way his jaw’s tight, in how he hasn’t looked at his phone once all morning.
He’s serious about her.
And I’m serious about this… whatever the hell we’re calling it.
This truce. This understanding.
I meant every word I said last night.
I want both of them in my life — Reid and Madeline.
And if sharing her is the only way that happens without losing either, then fine.
I’ll fight every instinct in me until it stops screaming.
Reid cuts into my thoughts before I can spiral deeper.
“How’s it been going on the boat today, anyway?”
Charlie perks up immediately. “Liam’s been texting me updates all day.” She pulls out her phone, scrolling fast, her face lighting up like she’s about to deliver gossip rather than science. “Let’s see—okay, they decided to head out to the S54 buoy. Then apparently they had to stop for a pod of dolphins, and Sloane was pissed at Madeline.”
I frown. “Why?”
Charlie squints at her phone again, reading. “Because Madeline told her to slow under ten knots around the dolphins.”
That earns a quiet snort from Reid — low and knowing, the kind of sound that means of course she did.
Charlie keeps scrolling. “Oh, wait—uh, I don’t know if I should tell you this part…”
Both of us look up, instantly alert. “Tell us.”
She bites her lip. “Fine. Then Sloane almost hit a floating tree trunk.”
“What?” I sit forward, pulse spiking.
“They were fine!” she says quickly, waving her free hand like that’ll calm the sudden tension between us. “Totally fine. They checked the engines and propellers, made sure everything was okay. That was like an hour ago. I don’t know what they’re up to now.”
Before I can process that — the image of Madeline out there, probably crouched over the bow with that little notebook in hand — Charlie gasps so loudly both Reid and I jump like we’re under attack.
“What,” Reid snaps, voice sharp, “what happened?”
She practically bounces in her seat. “LOOK at the weather forecast for tomorrow!”
We both lean back, unimpressed, while she turns her phone around with both hands like she’s revealing the Holy Grail.
“It’s going to be twenty-four degrees,” she announces, eyes wide. “The heavens have blessed us with a beautiful day on the grumpy twins’ birthday!”
Reid groans audibly. I just rub the bridge of my nose. “You scared the shit out of us for that?”
“Yes!” she says cheerfully. “Because this means you have to give everyone the day off tomorrow. No boats, no labs, no data. Just sunshine and beach.”
I shake my head. “We can’t do that, Charlie. We haven’t been out there in days. We need to keep collecting data.”
She crosses her arms dramatically. “You’re impossible.”
Reid smirks. “That’s not news.”
Charlie huffs, clearly thinking, and then she grins — that mischievous kind of grin that usually means we’re about to agree to something stupid. “Okay, fine. Deal with me on this. If the team gets something extraordinary today, you have to give everyone the day off tomorrow.”
Reid leans back in his chair, skeptical. “Extraordinary?”
“Extraordinary,” she repeats firmly, tapping the table for emphasis.
I exchange a look with Reid, that twin language of shared pain and resignation.
Finally, I sigh. “If it’s extraordinary.”
“Only then,” Reid adds.
Charlie beams. “Perfect. You two are gonna eat your words when the universe delivers a birthday miracle.”
Reid mutters, “More like a headache.”
I can’t help the small laugh that escapes me — not because of the weather, or Charlie’s dramatics, but because the idea of Madeline being part of whatever “extraordinary” thing happens out there feels… right.
If anyone’s going to bring magic back to Northhaven, it’s her.