Page 39 of Fixing Up My Love Life

Watermelon slices fly, juice splashes the floor, and Lila goes down in the middle of it all, landing in a pink, sticky mess.

Jack leans forward. “You okay?”

Lila slowly lifts herself upright, drenched and grumpy. “Just peachy.”

Jack lets out a laugh. “You know, for a second, I thoughtIwas the one causing all the mayhem.”

That evening, a hush settles over the newly rebuilt back porch, the kind that comes after a long day of progress and paint fumes.

Jack and Ellen sit together on one of the newcushioned benches that will eventually serve as extra seating for guests—wide, weathered teak with thick navy cushions and striped throw pillows. She’s nestled beside him, fresh from her bath and wrapped in a soft blanket that still smells faintly of lavender soap.

Jack’s voice rumbles low as he reads from a kids’ version ofTreasure Island, slipping easily into a pirate accent so gravelly it could make a sailor proud. Ellen’s giggles bubble up, her little legs swinging in time with the rhythm of his storytelling.

I sit across from them, tucked into the corner of the L-shaped bench with a steaming mug of tea warming my hands. The scent of salt and fresh paint lingers in the air. Below us, waves crash steadily against the shore, the tide rolling in and out in a soothing rhythm. From this side of the house, we get a full view of the Atlantic—soft hues of coral and gold streak across the sky as the sun lowers behind a haze of sea spray and cloud.

The backyard stretches out behind the porch—soft dunes and sand threaded with tufts of beachgrass and the occasional driftwood log bleached by time. Fairy lights are strung along the porch railing, their tiny bulbs beginning to glow as the daylight fades.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not thinking aboutwhat comes next.

I’m here. Right here, and it feels like enough.

Kira steps out through the screen door, pauses when she spots us, then leans against the frame with a smirk. “He reads pirate stories, huh?”

Jack glances up. “Guilty.”

Kira gives a thoughtful nod. “You’re not awful.”

He raises a brow. “That’s your version of a glowing endorsement?”

“She doesn’t hand those out often,” I say, smiling softly. “Consider yourself knighted.”

He tips an imaginary hat. “I’ll take it.”

From inside, laughter rises—Aubrey’s voice unmistakable as she launches into some dramatic retelling or fierce debate over table runners. Something about oyster shells versus sand dollars. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already trying to match us up in front of the entire catering staff.

But none of that matters right now.

I look out over the beach, the waves lit with streaks of fading light, and the man reading to my daughter. A man who left once, but came back and is trying in ways that matter.

We’re not just fixing up this house.

We’re building something real.

CHAPTER 16

Jack

The morning air on the day of the wedding is sharp with promise. We'd been worried about rain all week, but the sky is bright and clear—a happy surprise. On the sand, rows of white chairs face an arch wrapped in soft pink flowers. The breeze carries a faint hint of salt and sunscreen, and a few guests are still making their way down the path from the house. The ceremony's about to begin.

I stand beside Jace with my dress shoes dangling from one hand, my bare feet sinking in the sand. He hasn’t said a word to me since we walked out here, but he doesn’t need to. The silence between us says enough. There’s tension in his jaw, in the way he keeps his arms folded like I’m some kind of test he’s still grading.

I don’t blame him.

He’s Hazel’s youngest brother. And I’m the guy who broke her heart once.

Lucas and Anabelle’s ceremony setup is understated with simple elegance—the kind that makes you want to sit up straighter and hope the sand doesn’t sneak into your pants cuffs.

Hazel moves across the back row of chairs in a dress the color of rose wine, clipboard in hand, pausing to whisper something to the usher. My breath catches. Her hair's curled and pinned in some kind of soft twist that frames her face perfectly, and she’s wearing just enough makeup accentuating her eyes to look even more striking. She’s always been beautiful, but today? She’s stunning. Absolutely, “knock the air out of my lungs” stunning.

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