The Last Ferry

“That sounds amazing,” Sam said, his eyes lighting up. “I love paella.”

“Then you’ll have to be my taste tester,” Leo said, holding his gaze for a beat longer than necessary. “I could use a second opinion.”

“I’d be happy to,” Sam said, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. “Just say the word.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the air between them seemed to hum with unspoken attraction. Leo felt a familiar warmth spread through his chest, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time. *He’s interested*, he realized. *And so am I*.

“So,” he said, clearing his throat. “How’s the social media game treating you these days?”

Sam groaned, running a hand through his hair. “It’s a constant battle,” he said. “Trying to keep up with the algorithms and the trends. But I love it, most of the time.”

“You’re good at it,” Leo said. “I’ve seen your posts for the tourism board. They always make me want to explore my own town.”

“That’s the goal,” Sam said, grinning. “Make the locals feel like tourists in their own backyard.”

They chatted for a few more minutes, the conversation flowing easily between them. Leo felt a sense of comfort in Sam’s presence, a feeling of being seen and understood. When Sam excused himself to refill his coffee, Leo watched him walk away, appreciating the way his jeans fit just right.

*Don’t get ahead of yourself*, he thought. *He’s probably just being friendly*. But he couldn’t deny the spark he felt, the way his pulse quickened when Sam smiled at him.

A few minutes later, they were interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. Sam fished his cell out of his pocket, frowning at the screen. “It’s Ben,” he said. “The contractor working on the lighthouse. I should take this.”

Leo nodded, turning back to his laptop as Sam stepped away to answer the call. He could hear the murmur of Sam’s voice, the occasional “uh-huh” and “I see.” When Sam returned, his expression was troubled.

“Everything okay?” Leo asked.

Sam shook his head. “Ben found some structural damage at the lighthouse,” he said. “Something about the foundation being unstable. He’s not sure if he can finish the renovations on time.”

Leo winced. “That’s rough,” he said. “The last ferry is only a week away.”

“Tell me about it,” Sam said, running a hand over his face. “Ben sounded really stressed. I don’t think he was expecting this.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Leo asked.

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “Ben’s pretty independent. But maybe we could check in on him later, see if he needs anything.”

“I’m game,” Leo said. “I’ve been meaning to get a closer look at that lighthouse anyway.”

They exchanged a smile, and Leo felt a surge of affection for the other man. *He’s a good one*, he thought. *Cares about the people in this town*.

A few hours later, after they’d both finished their work, they headed over to the lighthouse together. They found Ben inside, covered in dust and looking frustrated. He’d set up a series of floodlights to illuminate the interior, and the beam of his flashlight swept across the curved walls.

“Hey Ben,” Sam called out, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. “We came to see if you needed a hand.”

Ben looked up, surprised. “Oh,” he said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not sure there’s much you can do.”

“Why don’t you walk us through what you’ve found?” Leo suggested, stepping closer. “Maybe a fresh pair of eyes will help.”

Ben hesitated, then nodded. “Alright,” he said. “But watch your step. The floor’s a bit uneven in places.”

He led them deeper into the lighthouse, pointing out the areas of concern. “See this?” he said, shining his light on a section of the wall. “The mortar’s completely crumbled away. And over here,” he gestured to a spot near the base, “the stones have shifted. It’s not safe.”

Leo crouched down, running his fingers over the rough surface. “How long do you think it’ll take to fix?”

“Longer than I’ve got,” Ben said grimly. “I’d have to shore up the foundation, replace the damaged stones. It’s a big job.”

“Is there any way to speed up the process?” Sam asked. “Maybe bring in some extra help?”

“I’ve already got my crew working on it,” Ben said. “But we’re stretched thin as it is. I’m not sure…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

Leo straightened up, dusting off his hands. “Well,” he said, “if there’s anything we can do, even if it’s just bringing you lunch or running errands, you let us know.”

Ben managed a small smile. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “Thanks for coming by.”

As they stepped back out into the sunshine, Leo glanced at Sam. “He’s got his work cut out for him,” he murmured.

Sam nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I wonder if there’s something else going on,” he said. “He seemed really upset, more than just the usual job stress.”

Leo shrugged. “Could be,” he said. “But we may never know. Ben’s always been a bit of a closed book.”

They walked back toward town in companionable silence, the salty breeze ruffling their hair. Leo snuck a glance at Sam, admiring the way the sunlight brought out the gold in his hair. *He’s something special*, he thought. *I’m glad I met him*.

Back at the lighthouse, Ben watched them go, a pang of loneliness hitting him square in the chest. *They’re good together*, he thought. *They’ll be good for each other*. He turned back to the damaged wall, his jaw set with determination. *One way or another*, he vowed, *I’m going to finish this job. I’m not going to let this town down again*.

The next morning, Leo woke to the sound of his phone buzzing on the nightstand. He fumbled for it, squinting at the screen. It was a text from Sam: “I’ve got an idea. Meet me at the food truck?”

Leo sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. *What’s he up to now?* he wondered. But he was intrigued, so he threw on some clothes and headed out into the early morning light.

He found Sam already at the truck, leaning against the counter with a mischievous grin on his face. “I was thinking,” Sam said, by way of greeting, “that we need to do something special to promote the Salty Spoon. Really put it on the map.”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening,” he said, unlocking the truck and climbing inside. “What did you have in mind?”

Sam followed him in, his eyes scanning the interior. “I was thinking we could do a social media blitz,” he said. “Really showcase what makes your food so special. The locally sourced ingredients, the care you put into each dish.”

Leo nodded slowly, considering the idea. “I like it,” he said. “But I’m not exactly tech-savvy. How would we even start?”

“That’s where I come in,” Sam said, his grin widening. “I can take some photos, create some content, really tell the story of the Salty Spoon. We could even do a behind-the-scenes video, show people what goes into making their favorite dishes.”

Leo felt a spark of excitement at the idea. “Let’s do it,” he said. “I trust you.”

They spent the next hour planning and strategizing, with Sam snapping photos of Leo prepping ingredients and cooking up a few of his signature dishes. He even convinced Leo to do a short video, talking about his passion for food and his love for Havenport.

“I feel like a movie star,” Leo joked, wiping his hands on his apron after they’d wrapped up the shoot.

“You’re a natural,” Sam assured him, reviewing the footage on his phone. “This is going to be great.”

True to his word, Sam worked his magic, and by the time the lunch rush rolled around, the Salty Spoon was the talk of the town. A steady stream of customers lined up, many of them mentioning the social media posts that had caught their eye.

“I saw that video of you making the chowder,” one woman gushed. “I just had to come try it for myself.”

Leo grinned, ladling a generous portion into a bread bowl. “Hope it lives up to the hype,” he said.

She took a bite and moaned in appreciation. “It’s even better than I imagined,” she said.

Leo caught Sam’s eye across the truck and gave him a thumbs up. *He really knows his stuff*, he thought. *I owe him big time for this*.

They worked together seamlessly, Leo cooking and plating the food while Sam handled the orders and payments. The air was filled with the sizzle of the grill and the happy chatter of satisfied customers. Leo felt a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over him. *This is what it’s all about*, he thought. *Bringing people together over good food*.