Liam grips the front of Harrison’s T-shirt.

I shift on the log, suddenly warm. God, I just love watching them fuck each other. Even this, where they’re just eyeing each other with naked desire, turns me on.

Harrison turns and presses his marshmallow between two graham crackers and two blocks of chocolate. “Ivy, try my creamy center.”

I laugh while Liam rolls his eyes. I oblige Harrison and take a tiny bite, pulling away when the sweetness hits my palate. “Mmm, I love your creamy center.”

A woman sits down next to me and gives me a smile. “I see Harrison is up to his usual tricks. I’m Celeste. I was his date to prom, but just as friends.”

“I’m Ivy, it’s nice to meet you. We’d love to hear all of Harrison’s tricks, wouldn’t we, Liam?”

“I think I know them all,” Liam says.

“He flirts with food,” Celeste tells us. “He’s always trying to shove something in your mouth when he likes you.”

For a split second, we just freeze. But then Celeste realizes what she’s said, and we all burst out laughing.

“That didn’t sound right.”

“But very, very true.” Harrison puts the s’more to Liam’s lips. “There’s more where this came from.”

“I can’t, I’m laughing too much.” Liam waves the s’more away and meets my eye. He’s grinning.

I’ve never seen Liam so light and carefree as he is here in Honeysuckle Harbor, and it’s not because he isn’t going to work. He loves his writing career, and he loves the show he’s been such an integral part of creating.

It’sus.

All four of us. Together.

And this town, with its beautiful beach, quirky residences, and adorable shops.

The pace here suits him.

Since we decamped to Harrison’s beach house this morning, Liam went out for coffee in the morning and to play chess with the retired guys. He spent a few hours writing in Harrison’s home office or on the back deck facing the ocean, then helped the Ford put together our burgeoning picnic basket for our beach dinner. He even agreed to play golf with Harrison’s and Ford’s dads tomorrow.

Liam’s grumpiness has been nonexistent and when we found out my jilted-bride-house sold, he didn’t look pleased about it either.

I’m not ready to go home.

Not even when I get up for another vodka seltzer and I practically run into Brad’s father.

It’s been pretty damn easy to forget that Brad’s from here and his family lives here, even with the house sale looming over me.

There’s no forgetting it now. “Oh, hi!” I say, a little flustered.

“Ivy! I heard you were in town.” Doug Richardson holds his arms out for a hug.

I return it awkwardly, but grateful he’s not upset with me for invading Honeysuckle Harbor. “Yes, I’m here to sell the house Brad bought.”

“I, uh, I have to say I’m sorry that Brad ran out on you the way he did. That wasn’t right and I’ve told my son that.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry you came all the way to California for a wedding that didn’t happen. Honestly, that’s on both of us. We should have called the wedding off months ago, but I didn’t really realize that.” Or I did, and didn’t want to admit that.

“I hear you’ve been running around town with Ford. Did that have anything to do with things falling apart?” Doug doesn’t look angry, just curious. He also looks a little drunk, swaying a bit on his feet in his parrot T-shirt and swim trunks.

I’m still wary. I’m not surprised he’s heard some gossip though, given everyone seems to know everyone here.

“No, not at all. That wasn’t on my radar at all. Ford has been there to…comfort me.”