Page 23 of Tides of Change (Seacliff Cove #2)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Ethan

Garrett expertly parallel-parked in a town to the south of Seacliff Cove with the precision of a trained cop, avoiding the curb by a breath. He shut down the SUV and silence reigned. The quiet felt charged—like something big was about to shift.

He cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair. Garrett Whitlock, unflappable deputy sheriff, was nervous.

My pulse kicked up a notch, and I braced myself. “Everything okay?”

“I, uh…” He clutched his hands over the steering wheel and his knuckles whitened. “I told my parents I was going on a date with a man.”

My chest squeezed, and my eyes flew wide. “Garrett.” I whispered his name like a prayer, reverent and full of meaning. “That’s huge.” I hadn’t realized Garrett’s parents didn’t know he was interested in men. “How do you feel?”

He tilted his head toward me, a small, self-conscious smile playing on his lips.

The streetlights cast soft shadows over his face and highlighted the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

“Good. Relieved.” He exhaled slowly, like he was letting out years of tension.

“I’ve spent so long suppressing this part of myself.

Since high school. And now…it’s like I can breathe easier. ”

A wave of emotion hit me and caught me off guard. Joy. Pride. “How did they take it?” I held my breath, hoping for the best.

“At first, they were surprised. They had questions. But once they got over the initial shock, they were supportive.” A small smile crept over his mouth.

I released my breath. “I’m so happy for you.”

His gaze dipped to his hands, fingers drumming on his thigh, before sliding back to me. “And…I told Noah I was taking you on a date tonight.”

My breath caught. Noah. This wasn’t just about Garrett. It was about his family—his son. And that he’d shared this with Noah felt monumental. I swallowed hard. “How did he react?”

Garrett chuckled. “He said, ‘Yay!’ Then he asked if he could go play.”

“He was obviously traumatized,” I deadpanned.

A snort escaped Garrett, and I smiled.

I blinked, emotions rising too fast to sort through. My heart ached with hope I hadn’t expected. I want to be around more, Noah. But all I said was, “That’s…great.”

I reached across the console and rested my hand on his. “You’ve come a long way today,” I whispered.

He squeezed my hand, his grip grounding me. “It feels right. You feel right.”

He turned his hand over and entwined his fingers with mine. “I hope you understand, though, that I’m not ready for a lot of open affection in public. Guiding you through a crowd at the farmers’ market is one thing, but…” He raised clasped hands between us as an example.

A small pang of disappointment ran through my chest, but this wasn’t about me. While I was comfortable being out and open, Garrett was still adjusting to living authentically. “You need to proceed at your own pace. If you never feel you can hold hands with a man in public, that’s okay.”

I tried to withdraw my hand, but he pulled it to his lips and kissed my knuckles before letting go. A tingle ran down my spine at the gentle contact, warming me from the inside out.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “For understanding.” The clock on the dash caught his attention, and he cleared his throat again. “We should get going. We have a reservation in a few minutes.”

I nodded, feeling lighter, almost giddy. He wasn’t ashamed of me. He wasn’t hiding me. He was walking his path at his own pace, but I was right there with him.

We strolled a block to an Italian restaurant, Garrett’s hand brushing close to mine but never quite making contact. The restaurant glowed warmly in the dark, its large, mullioned, arched windows inviting.

Garrett opened the door for me, and I stepped inside. The scents of garlic and herbs hit me instantly and made my stomach growl. I took in the old-world charm—candlelit tables with crisp white linens. The atmosphere was cozy—intimate—exactly what I’d wanted for our date.

But this wasn’t just any date. It was a statement.

Garrett stepped to the podium and nodded to the man standing behind it. “Evening, Luca. How are you doing?” Garrett greeted him.

The man’s face broke into a grin. “Garrett. Good to see you.” His gaze flicked to me, curiosity sparking.

Garrett straightened and stood a little taller. “Ethan, this is Luca, the manager and an old buddy. Luca, this is my…date. Ethan.”

The word date hung in the air, loaded with implications. Luca’s dark eyebrows shot up, and his gaze sharpened. “Your date?”

“Yes.” Garrett’s voice was steady, full of quiet strength.

Luca’s expression shifted, and his curiosity melted into understanding. “I see.” He reached out and shook my hand with a firm grip. “Welcome.”

The word was like a benediction.

Garrett’s shoulders relaxed visibly, the tension slipping away. I wondered how much that simple moment of acceptance had meant to him.

Luca grabbed two menus and led us to a small table in the back corner, tucked away from the main dining area. The privacy was a kindness, and I appreciated it—for Garrett’s sake.

But I was touched that Garrett had chosen to bring me to a restaurant where he knew the manager. I wasn’t his dirty little secret, and I reveled in that. The evening wasn’t just about this dinner, it was about what it meant to Garrett—and to us. Whatever the future may hold.

Once seated, we fell into an easy rhythm.

Conversation flowed effortlessly, and laughter rang out.

Garrett told stories about his time on the force—like the time he tried to rescue a neighborhood cat from a tree and ended up splitting the seat of his pants—and I shared some of my more memorable fan encounters, including the woman who’d shown up at a signing with my books tattooed on her arm.

Several times, Garrett’s hand hovered near mine, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach out. But each time, he pulled back at the last second. Maybe someday he’ll get there. Maybe someday he’ll be ready for more.

And that thought was enough to fill me with quiet hope.

Before I knew it, the meal was over, and disappointment tugged at my chest. I didn’t want the evening to end. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.

“Want to come to my place?” The words slipped out before I could second-guess them. I held my breath, and my heart pounded in my ears.

Garrett’s eyes darkened in a smoldering look that sent heat coursing through my veins. “I’d like that.”

He signed the bill and stood quickly, the legs of his chair screeching against the hardwood floor.

As we stepped out into the cool night air, his hand brushed mine again—so close. Almost there.

One step at a time. I wouldn’t push .