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

Nora woke to sunlight slicing through the cottage blinds, her body sore in places she hadn't felt in years. The lantern room flashed in her mind—Elias's hands, his weight, the way he'd groaned her name—and heat crept up her neck. She rolled over, half-expecting him there, but the bed was empty. He'd left after they'd cleaned up last night, a quiet kiss at her door, promising to meet at the lighthouse today.

She showered, the hot water easing her aches, and dressed—jeans, a sweater, boots scuffed from weeks of hauling. The mirror showed her flushed, eyes bright, and she smirked. "Get it together, Calder," she muttered, but the grin stuck.

At the lighthouse, Elias was already with the crew, directing a hoist for roof beams. He looked up as she parked, his smile small but real, and her stomach flipped. "Morning," he called, walking over, a coffee cup in hand.

"Morning," she said, taking it. Their fingers brushed, and she felt it—the spark, still live. "Sleep okay?"

"Not much," he said, voice low, eyes flicking over her. "You?"

"Same," she admitted, sipping the coffee. It was strong, bitter, and she wondered if he'd tasted it on her last night.

Jimmy shouted something about nails, breaking the moment, and Elias stepped back. "Roof's next," he said. "Concrete's set—wall's holding. Your grants are pulling us through."

"Good," she said, following him inside. The tower smelled of fresh mortar, the east wall patched and solid. Upstairs, the lantern room was a mess—tools, tarps, their beer bottles still scattered from last night. She kicked one aside, blushing, and he chuckled.

"Gotta clean that up," he said, but his tone was warm, teasing. They worked side by side, hauling debris, their shoulders brushing now and then. The crew bustled below, but up here, it was just them, the memory of last night humming in the air.

By noon, the roof was half-framed, beams slotting into place. Nora took a break, sitting on the stairs, when Meg showed up, her truck rattling into the lot. "Heard you two were busy," Meg said, climbing up, a smirk on her face.

"We are," Nora said, wary. "Roof's going up."

"Uh-huh," Meg said, glancing at Elias, who was hammering nearby. "Town's talking, you know. Leah's gone, and you two are… cozy."

Nora's stomach dropped. "It's not their business."

"Maybe not," Meg said, handing her a stack of fundraiser receipts. "But it's Cutler Cove. They'll talk. Just—be careful, yeah?"

Nora nodded, the warning sinking in. She hadn't thought past last night, past Elias's hands on her. But this wasn't just them—it was public now, and that scared her.

Elias joined them, wiping sweat from his brow. "What's up?" he asked, catching Meg's look.

"Gossip," Meg said, blunt. "You're the hot topic."

He tensed, jaw tight. "Let 'em talk. We've got work."

Meg left, and Nora turned to him. "You okay with this?"

He shrugged, but his eyes were hard. "Don't care what they think. Do you?"

"No," she said, but it wasn't true. She cared—about him, about them, about screwing this up again. He squeezed her shoulder, brief but firm, and went back to the roof. She watched him, the town's whispers buzzing in her head, and wondered how long they could keep this bubble intact.

That night, they stayed late, the crew gone, the tower quiet. They sat in the lantern room, sharing a sandwich she'd brought, the lamp glowing soft. "Roof's done tomorrow," he said, leaning back. "Then it's just the vote."

"We'll make it," she said, brushing crumbs off her hands. "We have to."

He nodded, then pulled her close, his arm around her. "Last night," he said, voice low. "Wasn't just a one-off for me."

"Good," he said, kissing her—slow, deep, a promise. They didn't go further, not tonight, but it was enough—his warmth, his breath, the steady beat of them rebuilding.

Chapter 18: The Morning After