Page 28 of Designing Love (Bluewater Cove #2)

LAST MARKET

Sophia

S unlight filters softly through Ethan’s bedroom curtains, bathing the room in a golden glow that feels like a scene from one of Sage’s romantic paintings.

I slowly blink awake, disoriented at first, but the warmth beside me quickly grounds me.

I turn slightly, my heart fluttering as I see Ethan awake, lying on his side and studying me with his playful, crooked smile.

I blush, instinctively pulling the sheet higher. “Good morning.”

Ethan chuckles, the sound gentle, sending tiny butterflies scattering through my stomach. He reaches out slowly, brushing a rebellious curl away from my face. “Morning. I didn’t want to wake you — you looked peaceful.”

“Were you just lying there watching me?” I tease softly.

He shrugs, but his eyes stay pinned to my mouth. His grin deepens, eyes twinkling. “Only for the past twenty minutes or so.”

“Creepy,” I accuse playfully, rolling onto my side to face him. Our noses nearly touch, and I can feel the warmth radiating from his skin, tempting me to close the remaining distance.

“You say creepy. I prefer ‘adorably attentive,’” Ethan whispers, voice low and teasing.

I bite my lip, suppressing a smile. “Fine. It’s a thin line, though.”

We laugh softly together, the morning intimacy easing the last remnants of sleep from my mind. Ethan runs his fingertips gently down my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “So,” he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath tickling my cheek. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“You’re cooking?” I raise an eyebrow skeptically, mock-serious. “Can you cook?”

He feigns offense, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “Excuse me — I’ll have you know my French toast is legendary in Bluewater Cove.”

I smirk, eyebrow raised in challenge. “Legendary, huh?”

He nods solemnly, eyes sparkling. “Award-winning. Well, nearly award-winning. Fine, Claire complimented it once.”

I laugh lightly, nudging him playfully. “Then who am I to refuse legendary, almost-award-winning, Claire-approved French toast?”

He leans in quickly, softly kissing my lips, warm and lingering. “You stay here. Relax. Let me prove my culinary prowess.”

He pulls away gently, standing up, and for a brief moment, I’m distracted by how perfectly he fits into his pajama pants. As he turns toward the door, he catches me staring, giving a playful smirk.

“Enjoying the view?”

I toss a pillow at him, cheeks flushed. “Go. Before I reconsider breakfast entirely.”

Laughing, Ethan disappears toward the kitchen, his quiet humming floating back to me. Alone in his bed, I roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling, heart pounding in a rhythm I’m not quite used to. I’m giddy, silly, and a little terrified — but mostly, I’m delighted.

I slide out of bed, putting on yesterday’s clothes.

I find Ethan’s sweatshirt and drape it over my shoulders, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne clinging to the fabric.

As I wander quietly through his bedroom, I find myself smiling at the small details: his neatly stacked books, the coffee mug half-full from yesterday, and the slightly askew photo of Ethan with Claire, both laughing at some forgotten joke.

It feels wonderful, relaxed and comfortable. .. just like Ethan himself.

The sound of Ethan humming a classic rock song off-key makes me grin as I step toward the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe, silently watching him beat eggs and cinnamon together with an expression of fierce concentration.

“You take this legendary business seriously, huh?” I tease.

Ethan glances over, pretending to scowl. “French toast is an art form, Sophia. Please respect the craft.”

I laugh, sliding onto a barstool, propping my chin in my hand as I watch him work. He dips the bread into the egg mixture, carefully placing each slice onto the sizzling pan, then flips them with exaggerated flair.

“Impressive technique,” I remark lightly.

He winks. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

We eat on the porch, our plates balanced precariously on our laps, and the gentle crash of morning waves serves as our background music. Ethan’s French toast truly is delicious, but I can’t resist teasing him just a little.

“It’s decent,” I say casually, feigning indifference.

He raises an eyebrow. “Decent?”

I shrug playfully. “Might need another taste test tomorrow, just to be sure.”

He chuckles, eyes shining. “Deal.”

As we finish eating, Ethan leans back, “It’s the last weekend of the farmer’s market. Want to go?”

“Sounds perfect. But first, I need to shower and get a fresh change of clothes. I should probably head to Sage’s and…”

“I’ll come with you,” he interrupts quickly, eyes widening slightly at his eagerness. He clears his throat, feigning nonchalance. “I mean, if you want company for the walk over there.”

I grin, feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks. “Company sounds great.”

He smiles, satisfied, squeezing my hand gently. “Good.”

We head to Sage’s. Outside, we stroll on the beach, fingers intertwined comfortably. The early autumn air is crisp, filled with the scent of salt and distant woodsmoke. Ethan glances at me thoughtfully, his thumb gently brushing my knuckles.

We arrive back at the eclectic beach house, and Ethan opens the door to let me step inside, instantly surrounded by the lived-in warmth of Sage’s creative clutter.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I say, nodding toward the mismatched armchair near the window. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

He settles in, looking strangely at ease amidst the vibrant disorder. “Take your time.”

After a quick shower, I dress comfortably in jeans and a soft sweater, feeling refreshed and buoyant. As I step back into the living room, my heart jumps slightly at the sight of Ethan casually flipping through one of Sage’s books on abstract art.

“Find anything good?” I ask, moving toward him.

He looks up, smiling gently. “Mostly confusion and mild anxiety. But I’m trying.”

I laugh softly, extending my hand. “Come on, let’s hit the market. I imagine Sage is already there.”

* * *

H eading to the market grounds, Ethan leans into me. “Hey,” he starts hesitantly. “I just wanted to say — last night, this morning… it’s been perfect.”

My cheeks blush, and I duck my head slightly, smiling shyly. “It really has.”

He pauses, tugging me gently to a stop on the sidewalk, his expression suddenly vulnerable. “You know, about everything moving quickly... I don’t want you to think it’s just impulse or convenience. I’m falling for you.”

My heartbeat quickens, a smile breaking across my face, equal parts relief and joy. “I’m falling for you too, Ethan.”

His shoulders visibly relax, tension leaving him instantly. He grins crookedly, squeezing my hand. “Good. Because honestly, I’m way too far gone already.”

I laugh softly, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Me too.”

“Hey, Ethan!” Claire’s voice breaks through our moment, and we glance toward her as she crosses the street, waving energetically. Her gaze flickers knowingly between us, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Aw, look at you two. Already adorable this early. I might gag.”

Ethan rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Claire.”

She scoffs, grinning wickedly. “Please. I’m just glad Sophia’s here to improve your social standing.”

“I do what I can,” I tease lightly.

Claire laughs, nudging Ethan. “So, taking advantage of the beautiful day to enjoy the market?”

He nods. “Yep. Last weekend, figured we’d enjoy it.”

“Well, then I’ll leave you to it. Try not to cause too much gossip, kids.” She winks exaggeratedly at me. “Sophia, good luck handling this one. He’s a handful.”

“Believe me, I’m finding that out.” I laugh.

Claire waves cheerfully, continuing down the sidewalk. Ethan sighs, shaking his head fondly. “You see what I deal with?”

“Poor you,” I tease gently, squeezing his hand again.

He chuckles, guiding me toward the bustling farmer’s market. The lively atmosphere, colorful stalls filled with fresh produce, baked goods, and local crafts immediately energize us.

As we wander, Ethan points out familiar faces, introducing me to various vendors and friends. We stop frequently, sampling homemade jams, debating apple varieties, and laughing over kitschy souvenirs.

Eventually, we pause near a stall selling fresh bouquets. Ethan eyes them thoughtfully, glancing toward me shyly.

“What’s your favorite?”

I smile warmly, touched. “Sunflowers.”

He buys a bouquet without hesitation, presenting them with an exaggerated flourish. “For you, my lady.”

I laugh, accepting them with playful reverence. “Such a gentleman.”

His eyes soften, hand cupping my cheek gently. “Chivalry’s my baseline — but you get the deluxe package.”

My breath catches. My heart pounds happily. He leans in softly, dropping a tender kiss on my lips — brief but full of promise.

As we walk back toward the street, our fingers intertwined again, I realize how fully, completely happy I am here with him.

“So,” Ethan murmurs gently, breaking the comfortable silence. “What’s next?”

I glance sideways, eyes sparkling. “I’m not entirely sure. But I know I want to figure it out — with you.”

His smile brightens, warmth filling his gaze. “Then that’s exactly what we’ll do.”

Hand in hand, flowers tucked gently under my arm, we stroll back toward Ethan’s truck. Each step feels easy and natural — like I’m exactly where I was always meant to be.