CEO Booked A Fishing Trip To Unwind. He Never Expected To Fall For The Woman Running The

Dropping Anchor Permanently

Ferris stood on the dock, duffel over his shoulder. Brier was finishing a final check near the wheelhouse.

“You didn’t say where you’re going,” she said.

“I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“You could stay in town a few days,” she suggested.

“That’s not why I’d stay,” he said.

She finally met his gaze. “This life, it’s not a weekend escape. I can’t be something you come back to when the office gets too loud.”

“I know that,” he said. He pulled out a folder. “I stepped down from the board. I resigned.”

“Why?”

“Because I finally saw what it was costing me,” he said. “I realized I’ve been chasing the wrong things for too long. I want to figure it out with you.”

“So what happens now?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I’m not leaving this harbor without knowing if there’s a real future here.”

She took a slow breath. “I’ve never had anyone choose this life.”

“Then let me be the first.”

She stepped forward and rested her palms against his chest. “You’re not what I expected.”

“Neither are you.”

Later that week, the island town buzzed with its first spring festival. Ferris stood on the dock, hauling crates for the firehouse. Brier was beside him, her hand linked with his.

“People are starting to think you’re sticking around,” she said.

“I am.”

“You sure you’re ready for this life?”

“As long as you’re at the table,” he said, “I’ll be there.”

“I don’t do fairy tales, Ferris.”

“I’m not offering one,” he said. “I’m offering something real. Messy, unpredictable, but real.”

“I can work with that,” she said.

A month later, Ferris was no longer an outsider. He was the man who bought broken-down boats for the school’s marine program and didn’t flinch at scrubbing barnacles.

“You know there’s a boat slip open at the far end of the harbor,” Brier said as they stood on the Blue Ren.

“Are you suggesting I get my own boat?”

“I’m suggesting you stop sleeping on mine,” she said. “Unless you want to declare yourself the world’s first live-in deck hand.”

“Is that your way of asking me to move in permanently?”

“I’m just trying to make it official,” she smiled.

“I want to build something here,” he said seriously. “A marine restoration center. Education programs, coastal cleanup. I want to invest in this place with purpose.”

“You’ve changed,” she said.

“No,” he replied. “I’ve finally stopped hiding who I was always supposed to be.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box.

“I know you’re not someone who needs grand gestures,” he said. “But I want to marry you, Brier Gentry. I can’t imagine my life without waking up beside you. Anchoring next to you in calm and storm.”

She stared at the ring, a pale sea glass stone set in silver.

“I thought I wasn’t the type to get proposed to,” she whispered.

“You’re the type who gets chosen every day, over and over,” he said.

She slid the ring onto her finger. “You’re mine now, Langston. No takebacks.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They married three weeks later on the deck of the Blue Ren. Brier walked barefoot in a seafoam green dress, her braid threaded with wildflowers. Their vows were plain, honest, and quiet.

A year later, the Marine Center opened. Brier ran the sailing program, and Ferris managed operations. He often trailed behind the Blue Ren in his own modest boat, the Wild Brier.

They didn’t chase anything anymore because they had chosen each other. They had already arrived.