Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
DIXIE
T he island came alive at night, the pathways illuminated by soft, glowing lanterns that cast warm light on the tropical foliage lining the winding trails. Hayes held my hand as we walked toward the main house. I didn’t think I would ever get tired of hearing the sound of the ocean. It was so gentle and soothing. My heart raced with anticipation. Tonight, I was meeting everyone—really meeting them.
I was glad I had met a few. It was like easing my way into the deep end.
“You ready?” Hayes asked, squeezing my hand gently as we approached the grand entrance.
“I think so.” I laughed nervously. “Should I have worn something fancier?”
His eyes traveled over my flowy sundress and the sandals I’d paired it with. “You look perfect. And don’t worry, this is family. They might look polished, but you’ll see. Underneath it all, they’re just people.”
Just people. That was easy for him to say, born into all this. For me, stepping into a house like this—a sprawling mansion even by resort standards—felt like stepping into another world. The sound of laughter and conversation spilled out as we entered, and the scent of something decadent wafted from the open kitchen.
In the dining area, everyone was already gathered around a long, beautifully set table that overlooked the ocean. Flickering candles added to the dreamy ambience. It was a sea of Bancrofts. My first thought was holy shit, these men came right out of a copy machine. The resemblance was so powerful. The women, on the other hand, were so different. They were all beautiful in their own right. A couple looked like they stepped off the pages of Vogue, but most of them reminded me of people I would see working at the coffee shop. Just normal.
Like me.
Kathy was the first to greet us, pulling me into a warm hug like she’d known me for years. “There you are! You’re just in time.”
Armand offered a polite nod and a kind smile, and Isaac smirked as he raised a glass in our direction. Dane and Ginger were at the far end of the table, their toddler son perched precariously on Dane’s lap while Ginger tried to feed him bites of food. Across from them sat Hudson and Diana, whose daughter was in the midst of trying to crawl under the table while Diana tried to coax her back with promises of dessert.
“It’s chaos, but it’s our chaos,” Kathy whispered conspiratorially as she guided me to my seat beside Hayes.
I couldn’t help but smile. There was a warmth to the room that surprised me. Despite the obvious wealth—the designer clothes, the sparkling jewelry, the casual mention of yachts and private jets in their conversations—they felt normal. The kind of normal I’d always wished for at family dinners growing up. Laughter bounced off the walls, good-natured teasing and inside jokes flying across the table. Even the toddlers, who were now giggling together and conspiring to escape their parents, added to the lively charm.
Older children were sitting at a nearby table. It wasn’t hard to tell they were part of the Bancroft clan. I was quickly introduced to a few of the other members of the family. Grayson was every bit the intimidating person Hayes described. He wasn’t unfriendly, but just very aloof. His wife was stunning. They made the perfect power couple.
I learned several of the women were teachers, which surprised me. They were normal. I met Liam, another one of Hayes’s brothers. He was showing off quite a few tattoos as well, reminding me of Mason. But maybe a little softer. His wife, Mikaela, was my kind of people. She told me all about her loathing for social media. She also had a full tattoo sleeve, visible in the sundress she wore.
I couldn’t decide which of them was my favorite. I felt like I connected with all of them in one way or another.
“Eat up,” Hayes said as a plate of grilled seafood and fresh tropical fruits was placed in front of me. “You’re going to need your strength for tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?” I asked, arching a brow.
He winked. “You’ll see.”
The dinner was amazing. Dessert was even better. We indulged in a variety of tropical treats—mango sorbet that melted deliciously on the tongue, passion fruit tartlets bursting with flavor, and what they called “island cake,” rich with coconut and pineapple. It was clear every dish had been crafted with care, reflecting both the local produce and the family’s flair for the extravagant.
I thought I had to choose which dessert that I wanted. I was so glad to see we got to eat all three. I didn’t feel like I was indulging because everyone was digging in.
Hayes intermittently squeezed my hand under the table, offering silent reassurances. I found myself increasingly at ease, the initial awe of their wealth and status slowly diminishing as I saw them tease each other over childhood escapades and argue over silly details like which movie to watch on family nights.
One of the toddlers let out a wail loud enough to startle everyone. Ginger jumped up, attempting to soothe her son, but he squirmed out of her grasp and bolted toward the kitchen, shrieking with delight. Hudson’s daughter promptly burst into tears in solidarity, and Diana sighed as she tried to wrangle her back into her chair.
“Well,” Ginger said, scooping up her son as he made another dash for freedom. “I think that’s our cue. Bedtime for these two bozos.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Diana added, standing with her daughter in tow. The two families exchanged weary but affectionate smiles before retreating to their villas. A few others opted to take their children to bed as well.
The table quieted considerably after they left, leaving only Kathy, Armand, Hayes, and me. “Well, that was an amazing dinner,” Kathy said. “Did you enjoy the meal?” she asked me.
“Oh, absolutely!” I exclaimed. “I don’t even know what some of it was, but I know I want to eat it again and again.”
Hayes laughed. “I’m guessing Dane is going to borrow a few of those recipes and put his own spin on them to serve in his restaurant.”
“I hope so,” I said.
“So, Dixie,” Kathy began, her voice gentle. “Tell us about your family.”
I hesitated, unsure of how much to share. “Well, I’m really close with my sister, Frankie. She’s my rock. I admire her so much, even though she’s technically my little sister. She’s strong, smart, and has always been the one who supports me most.”
Kathy smiled. “She sounds wonderful.”
“She is,” I said softly. “My relationship with my parents is… complicated. We love each other, of course, but there’s been some distance between us for a while.”
Armand gave a sympathetic nod, but neither of them pushed for details. I appreciated that. Instead, Kathy reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“It sounds like you’ve built a strong bond with your sister. That’s what matters most. Family is family.”
“Thank you,” I said, grateful for her kindness.
“And have you lived in New York long?” Armand asked.
“Yes. Born and raised New Yorker.”
“And what do you do?” Kathy asked.
“I restore furniture. It’s more than just a job for me—it’s an art form. Every piece has a story, you know? When someone brings me an old dresser or a vintage chair, I see potential where others might see something worn out or damaged.”
Kathy leaned forward, her interest genuine. “That sounds fascinating. How did you get into that?”
I was a little embarrassed to admit the whole story. I glanced over at Hayes, who seemed genuinely interested as well. “So, you know how people put stuff out on the sidewalk to go to the trash?”
The second I said it, I felt ridiculous. They didn’t know because they lived in neighborhoods where no one would ever do that.
“I’ve seen that on TV,” Kathy said.
“The first piece I ever restored wasn’t something I planned. It was just an old wooden table I found sitting on the street, abandoned next to a dumpster. Most people would have walked right past it—the wood was weathered, with deep scratches and what looked like water damage along one side. But something about its lines caught my eye. The legs were beautifully carved, with these delicate curves that hinted at its original craftsmanship.”
The three of them were all watching me, listening to every word.
“I remember standing there on the sidewalk just staring at this table. People rushed by, but I was frozen. Something in me saw beyond the grime and damage. I could see what it could be. I got my sister to help me drag it into the garage. It was heavier than I expected. I asked my dad if I could use some of his tools and got to work. I watched YouTube videos to figure out what steps I needed to take.”
“You taught yourself?” Hayes asked.
“More like I went out and found teachers. I stripped the old paint, sanded down the scratches, and slowly worked to restore its original beauty. When I finished, it was like revealing a hidden treasure. The wood grain was stunning—rich mahogany with these warm undertones that just glowed under the right light. My family was shocked. My dad couldn’t believe I’d transformed this piece of trash into something so beautiful. I told him it was always beautiful. It just needed a loving touch to bring it out.”
“That’s incredible, Dixie,” Kathy said. “Sounds like you have a real eye for quality.”
I glanced at Hayes. “I know a good thing when I see it. Anyway, it became an obsession after that. I started picking up pieces from thrift stores, estate sales, anywhere I could find something with potential.”
“I’d love to see some of your work,” Kathy said.
“I don’t have my phone with me, but tomorrow maybe. I always take before and after pictures.”
“Great!” Kathy exclaimed.
After a lull in the conversation, Hayes asked, “Want to take a walk on the beach?”
I nodded eagerly. We excused ourselves, leaving Kathy and Armand to cuddle up on the couch. Outside, the night was impossibly still, the air warm and fragrant with the scent of salt and tropical blooms. We slipped off our shoes and walked barefoot along the shore, the cool sand soft against my skin. Above us, the sky was a blanket of stars, brighter and more numerous than I’d ever seen.
“Wow,” I breathed, tilting my head back to take it all in. “It’s like the universe just opened up.”
Hayes squeezed my hand. “It’s incredible, isn’t it? I’m glad you’re here to see it.”
I glanced at him. “Thank you for bringing me.”
He stopped walking and turned to face me. “I’m glad you came. I mean that. This wouldn’t be the same without you. I’d be sulking in my villa. I see it all through your eyes. It’s like seeing it for the first time.”
For a moment, we just stood there. Then I bit my lip and glanced down the beach. “Are we really alone out here? Will anyone come down?”
He shook his head. “I’m guessing Kathy and Dad went to bed and everyone else is probably asleep or wrangling kids. Why?”
Grinning, I reached for the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head, leaving it in a heap on the sand. I quickly dropped my panties and my bra and I stood there in nothing but my bare skin, the warm breeze brushing against me. “I’ve always wanted to go skinny dipping in the ocean.”
Hayes looked at me, a slow, lazy smile spreading across his face. “Is that so?”
I raised a brow. “You coming?”
In one fluid motion, he tugged off his shirt and stepped out of his pants, tossing them carelessly aside. “Race you.”
We ran into the water together, the cool waves splashing against our skin as we dove in. The ocean was warm and inviting. The saltwater buoyed us as we swam out a little farther. Hayes caught me around the waist, pulling me close, and we treaded water under the starry sky.
“This is incredible,” I said, laughing and splashing him playfully.
“It’s pretty great,” he agreed, his voice low and rough. “But not as incredible as you.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. We floated there for a while, letting the ocean gently rock us. I felt a contentment I’d never known before, like everything in the world had aligned just right to bring me here, to this moment, with him.
I looked up at Hayes, his dark hair wet and clinging to his forehead. He was perfect—almost too perfect—and the realization hit me like a wave. I was falling for him. Hard.
He caught me staring and smiled, that knee-weakening smile that turned my insides to jelly. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said softly, my heart pounding. “Just admiring the view.”
He leaned in, his lips brushing against mine.