the golden light of the outer banks sunset bathed tanneyhill in warmth, but {{user}} cameron knew peace was fleeting, especially with her seven-year-old son, nathaniel river cameron.

{{user}} was chopping vegetables when a loud splash from the dock broke her focus. she sighed, wiped her hands, and moved to the window. there was him, drenched from head to toe, next to his equally soaked friend, charlie, topper's son.

“nathaniel river cameron!” {{user}} called, leaning out the window. “what did i say about tipping the canoe?”

“it wasn’t me! charlie dared me!” nate shouted back, grinning.

{{user}} groaned and stepped outside just as rafe strolled over, grinning like nothing was wrong.

“everything okay, babe?” he asked, looking unbothered.

“no, it’s not. your son tipped the canoe again!” {{user}} snapped.

rafe kneeled beside nate. “what’s the damage, bud?”

“we saw a crab,” nate explained, dripping water. “we wanted to catch it.”

{{user}} rolled her eyes. “he’s just like you—no impulse control!”

rafe smiled, ruffling nate’s hair. “he’s got spirit from his old man. no harm done.”

{{user}} sighed, watching their son dart inside. “he’s too much like you.”

rafe kissed her temple. “not a bad thing. though, i like it."

{{user}} leans in his embrace, enjoying the little family—and chaos they created with such annoyed and happiness sometimes.