The Last Night at the Lighthouse

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“You’re a terrible liar,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips.

I opened my mouth to retort, but his hand came up, brushing a strand of hair from my face. The gesture was simple, but the way his fingers lingered against my cheek sent a shiver down my spine.

“Helena,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “Don’t push me away.”

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Chapter 1:

Chapter 1: The Final Watch

The iron staircase of the lighthouse groaned under my boots as I climbed, each step pulling me closer to the top, and the end of an era. After twelve years as the lightkeeper, tonight was my final shift. Thirty-nine wasn’t exactly old, but it was old enough to know when to move on. Or so I told myself.

The wind howled outside, carrying with it the scent of salt and an edge of something sharper, like the storm had teeth. I paused at the landing, catching my breath as my fingers grazed the plaque on the wall:

“Helena Anders, Lightkeeper — First illuminated these waters on March 2nd, 2011, and hasn’t missed a night since.”

The storm outside seemed eager to break that streak.

I stepped into the watchroom, the familiar scents of oil and aged timber wrapping around me. The beam from the beacon above swept across the turbulent sea, slicing through the gathering darkness. The glass windows rattled as the wind picked up speed.

Out on the horizon, storm clouds churned like black smoke, the first streak of lightning illuminating the jagged rocks below. My chest tightened, but I didn’t move. This lighthouse had weathered worse storms and so had I.

***

Miles offshore, Vince Marino’s fishing boat was in chaos. Flames clawed at the walls of the engine room, smoke filling the narrow space. His flare gun trembled in his hands as he staggered toward the deck.

“Please, God,” he muttered, raising the gun toward the storm-filled sky.

***

Closer to the harbor, Leo "Cap" Devine leaned against the console of his tugboat, watching the storm roll in. At 42, he was the kind of man whose calm exterior masked a storm of his own. Years at sea had carved lines into his rugged face, and the glint in his dark eyes hinted at trouble and charm in equal measure.

His radio crackled to life. “Storm’s coming in hot tonight, Cap,” a voice warned.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he muttered, flicking the cigar between his fingers as his gaze drifted toward the lighthouse beam cutting through the darkness.

***

Back at the lighthouse, I leaned against the gallery railing, the wind tangling my hair as I stared out at the restless sea. The storm was coming fast, but something about tonight felt different, like the air itself carried a warning.

A voice crackled over the radio, breaking my thoughts.

“Cap here. You calling to check if I’m still breathing, Helena?”

I couldn’t help but smile, his familiar tone like a lifeline. “Just making sure the sea hasn’t swallowed you yet.”

“Not yet,” he replied, his chuckle low and warm. “But if you keep calling, I might think you care.”

“Maybe I do.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, and the pause on the other end stretched longer than I expected.

“You always did have a way of surprising me,” he finally said, his voice softer now.

Before I could respond, a noise caught my attention, footsteps on the stairs.

“Cap, I’ll call you back.”

I set the radio down, my pulse quickening. Who would be here in this storm?

The door creaked open, and there he was.

“Didn’t think I’d make it before the rain,” Leo said, rain dripping from his dark hair onto his jacket.

I blinked, the sight of him in my space leaving me momentarily breathless. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t let you face your last night alone.”

Chapter 2;

The wind screamed against the lighthouse as Leo stepped closer, the space between us shrinking.

“You came all this way just to keep me company?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Didn’t seem right, letting you do this alone,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Besides, I figured you’d need someone to remind you to eat before midnight.”

I huffed a laugh, but it felt forced. His presence was unsettling, not in a bad way, but in a way that made my skin hum.

He stepped closer again, his rain-soaked boots leaving puddles on the wooden floor. “You okay?”

“Of course,” I replied, though my voice betrayed me.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips.

I opened my mouth to retort, but his hand came up, brushing a strand of hair from my face. The gesture was simple, but the way his fingers lingered against my cheek sent a shiver down my spine.

“Helena,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “Don’t push me away.”

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering in my chest. “Leo, I don’t—”

Before I could finish, he closed the distance between us. His lips found mine, warm and insistent, and the world outside disappeared.

I gasped against his mouth, my hands moving instinctively to his chest. The fabric of his shirt was damp, but the heat of his body burned through it, igniting something inside me I hadn’t felt in years.

His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space between us. The storm outside raged, but it was nothing compared to the fire building between us.

When we finally broke apart, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing hard.

“You’re going to make this complicated, aren’t you?” I whispered, a shaky smile tugging at my lips.

“Complicated?” he said, his lips brushing against mine as he spoke. “Helena, I’ve been waiting for this for years.”

I laughed, the sound breaking through the tension. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he replied, his grin lighting up the room.