Page 26 of Fixing Up My Love Life

Jack steps closer. Gently, he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I missed this,” he says.

My breath hitches, heart flipping in my chest.

“Dad! Come try the lemonade!” Caroline shouts from the kitchen.

He lingers for a second longer, then pulls back and heads toward the voice.

And just like that, the moment slips away.

What if he really stays this time? Could I risk everything and give him my heart again?

CHAPTER 10

Jack

Some people go to the gym to clear their head. I go to the local coffee shop and get hit with cinnamon lattes and unresolved feelings for Hazel.

I push open the door to Twin Waves Brewing Co., and the smell nearly knocks me flat—in a good way. Fresh coffee beans, a splash of vanilla, and whatever magic they bake into those pastries. There’s one topped with shiny strawberries behind the counter, and I swear, for a split second, I’m back on the beach kissing Hazel, tasting salt and sugar and every second of our complicated history.

It’s been weeks. We haven’t kissed since, but I’ve replayed it about four thousand times. I keep tellingmyself it didn’t mean anything, but that’s a lie. Every time I see her—hair in a messy bun, laughing with Caroline, arms full of lemonade and too many snack containers—I feel it all over again. This town, this house, this life... it’s pulling me in. And for the first time in a long time, I’m not looking for the exit.

Across the room, Hazel’s deep in conversation with Penelope Waters, the mayor’s wife and the unofficial queen of Twin Waves. Penelope could sell sand to a crab, and she’s got that same glittery, terrifying energy as Hazel’s best sales days. But the moment feels... off. Their heads are bowed close, voices low, like they’re plotting a political takeover—or sharing town secrets they’d never say aloud in public.

“I just think it’s best if you stay in your lane, dear,” Penelope murmurs to Hazel, a smile playing at her lips. “Let the visionaries do the heavy lifting. It’s a lot to manage, and we wouldn’t want you overextending yourself again, would we?”

Hazel bites her lip. Not in a flirty way, but in that “I’m trying not to scream at someone” way. My stomach tightens. I don’t know if this conversation is about me, but I’m suddenly one hundred percent sure I don’t want it to be.

Before I can slink away like a coward, Penelopespots me and waves me over with the same energy she’d use to summon a waiter to refill her mimosa.

"Jackson Sanders! What a surprise."

I offer a tight smile. “Morning, Penelope.”

She turns back to Hazel, all gracious charm and perfectly arched brows. “I was just telling your lovely lady friend here how your rentals could really elevate the town’s image. Charleston, Wilmington, Jacksonville… it’s quite the portfolio.”

She flashes a smile at me, cool and calculating. “Exactly the kind of investor Twin Waves has been waiting for. Lord knows we’ve had enough... passion projects.”

Her eyes flick to Hazel’s coffee-stained shirt, and then back to me. “Vision and capital. That’s the magic combo.”

Then, as if she’s doing Hazel a favor, she adds with mock sincerity, “Of course, not everyone can keep up with that kind of momentum. But it’s charming to see people try.”

Penelope keeps smiling, oblivious or pretending to be. “You two must be quite the team. I always say, every visionary needs a good heart to tether him.”

She pats Hazel’s arm, then turns back to me. “Just don’t forget—this town has long memories. And high expectations.”

“Anyway, I’ve got to run. Your daughter’s a doll, by the way. Always so polite in the checkout line.”

At least someone sees her that way. Caroline’s had a rough go of it the past few years—new schools, old wounds, and a mom who’s more interested in Instagram than her own kid. But maybe, just maybe, she’s finally starting to come into her own around here. And if the town gossip is giving her a stamp of approval, maybe that’s worth something.

She heads out the door, and suddenly I’m standing in the ruins of whatever foundation I thought Hazel and I were building.

Hazel doesn’t waste time. “So,” she says, “you weren’t going to tell me about all these rental properties you have to get back to?”

I open my mouth, but she barrels on.

“You were just going to hang out here, act like we were maybe building something, and then what? Vanish once the wedding’s over? Two months, Jack. That’s how long we have.”

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