faustinaimonmon

Nora Calder swore she’d never return to Cutler Cove, the coastal town where she left her heart—and Elias Hart—ten years ago. But when the lighthouse that holds their teenage pact faces demolition, she’s back, armed with grit and a secret that drove her away: her father’s ruinous debts. At 34, she’s got one shot to save the tower—and maybe herself—before the council tears it down.
Elias, now a rugged contractor engaged to sweet, steady Leah, didn’t expect Nora’s return to crack his world open. Their pact—if single at 35, they’d marry atop the lighthouse—haunts him as she fights for the crumbling landmark he’s hired to destroy. Old initials carved in the railing and stolen glances reignite a fire he thought was ash, but loyalty and love pull him in two.
As storms batter the coast and the town splits over the lighthouse’s fate, Nora and Elias clash, then cling—unearthing her past, shattering his future, and rebuilding more than stone. From desperate kisses in the lantern room to a festival that could save it all, they face a deadline that’s more than a vote: six months to prove the tower’s worth, and theirs. In a tangle of sweat, salt, and second chances, The Lighthouse Pact is a raw, steamy romance about love that won’t stay buried—and a promise that might just hold.

The Lighthouse Pact

The storm left Cutler Cove a mess—trees down, power lines dangling, the harbor choked with debris. Elias drove home slow, the lighthouse still standing in his rearview, Nora's kiss burning on his lips. She'd laid it bare—I loved you too much—and it'd undone him. He'd wanted her, right there in the chaos, but Leah's face had stopped him. He couldn't keep doing this, tearing himself in two.

Leah was at the house when he got back, her car in the drive, bags by the door. She looked up from the couch, eyes red but steady. "Hey," she said, voice flat. "You're alive."

"Yeah," he said, shedding his soaked jacket. "Storm hit hard. Lighthouse held, barely."

"With Nora?" she asked, and he nodded, too tired to lie.

"Leah," he started, but she held up a hand.

"Don't," she said. "I heard you come in last night—smelled the rain, saw the way you looked. You were with her."

"We got trapped," he said, stepping closer. "That's all."

"Is it?" She stood, arms crossed. "Because I've been waiting, Elias. Waiting for you to choose me, to be here. But you're not. You're with her, even when you're standing in front of me."

He opened his mouth, but nothing came. She was right—he'd been slipping away, and last night had sealed it. "I didn't mean for this," he said, hoarse. "I love you, Leah. I do."

"But not like you love her," she said, tears spilling. "I see it. I've always seen it."

He sank onto the couch, head in his hands. "I don't know what I feel anymore. She's… she's in me, and I can't shake it."

Leah nodded, like she'd expected it. "Then we're done," she said, quiet but firm. "I can't be second. I won't."

"Leah—" he started, reaching for her, but she stepped back.

"No," she said. "You figure it out with her. I'm going to Jen's—for good this time."

She grabbed her bags and left, the door clicking shut behind her. He sat there, the house empty, her ring on the table where she'd left it. He'd lost her, and it hurt—sharp, real—but under it was relief, and that scared him most.

Nora heard about the breakup by noon, Meg texting: Leah's out. Elias too. You okay? She wasn't—her head was a tangle of guilt and hope, the kiss replaying every time she closed her eyes. She drove to the lighthouse, needing to see it, to see him.

He was there, alone, hauling debris from the lot. His shirt clung to him, sweat mixing with the damp, and he stopped when he saw her. "Hey," he said, wiping his brow.

"Hey," she said, stepping closer. "Heard about Leah."

"Yeah," he said, voice low. "It's over."

"I'm sorry," she said, meaning it. "I didn't want—"

"I know," he cut in. "But it's done. She saw it before I did."

She nodded, the air heavy between them. "The tower?"

"Held," he said. "Cracks are worse, but we've got time. Your grants?"

"Pending," she said. "Fundraiser's next week. We might pull it off."

He smiled, faint but real. "You're something, Nora."

"So are you," she said, and the words hung, loaded. They stood there, the wreckage around them, and she felt it—the shift, the chance. But he didn't move, and neither did she, both too raw to push it yet.

Chapter 15: The Wreckage