Sizzling Desire (Hibiscus Harbor #5)

Prologue - Grace

T he sound of laughter and sizzling meat fills the air as the warm summer breeze rolls through Kate and Hudson’s backyard. The BBQ is in full swing, the scent of delicious, charred burgers and grilled ribs mingling with the sweet aroma of Kate’s homemade peach cobbler cooling on the patio table. It’s the kind of night that should feel easy, light, a simple gathering of friends unwinding after the whirlwind that’s been the past few weeks.

But nothing about my life feels simple anymore.

I sit with Kate, Mia, Riley, Brooke, Charli, and Sunni at the outdoor dining set, a drink in hand, trying to look more relaxed than I feel. Across the yard, the guys—Hudson, Ian, Declan, Trevor, Kane, Sawyer, and Chance—hover around the grill, caught in a heated debate about something absurd if the animated gestures and occasional head shakes are any indication.

Hudson is manning the grill like he was born for it, flipping burgers with the confidence of a man who knows exactly how he wants his steak cooked and won’t tolerate any arguments.

Pepper, Kate’s massive English mastiff, is lounging under the table, her large head resting on my feet, while Wilbur, the cranky old goose, patrols the perimeter like the world’s most unpredictable security guard.

Mia leans back in her chair, swirling the ice in her glass as she turns her attention to Charli. “So, Charli, what’s next for you?” she asks, her tone casual but laced with genuine concern. “With the Silver Willow gone, I mean.”

At the mention of the restaurant, an uneasy hush falls over the group.

It’s been a month since the fire, but the memory of it still lingers, a dark cloud hanging over our town. The Silver Willow had been a staple, a place where people gathered for first dates, anniversaries, and everything in between. Now it’s nothing more than a charred husk, reduced to rubble and ash in a matter of hours.

Charli was its heart. The head chef. The one who poured her soul into every dish that came out of that kitchen. And now, just like that, she’s out of a job.

Charli shrugs, taking a deliberate sip of her beer. “I’ll figure something out,” she says, her voice a little too breezy, a little too detached. “Maybe take a vacation, go backpacking through Europe, learn how to make pasta from some old Italian grandmother.”

Riley raises an eyebrow. “You hate traveling.”

Charli waves a hand. “Details.”

Brooke shoots her a knowing look. “So, no real plan yet?”

Charli rolls her eyes. “No, Brooke, no real plan. But it’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine .” She punctuates the words by taking another sip of her drink, effectively shutting down the conversation.

The girls exchange glances but let it drop. Charli’s always been fiercely independent, the kind of woman who doesn’t let people see when she’s struggling. She’ll talk when she’s ready—or when she finally gets tired of pretending.

The conversation shifts to easier topics, and soon, we’re watching the guys as they devolve into some sort of ridiculous argument.

Riley tilts her head, eyes locked on the broad backs of the men, specifically one in particular. “Kane has an objectively perfect ass,” she muses, taking a sip of her drink. “Brooke, you should put that in one of your Sophie Quinn books.”

Brooke laughs, setting her glass down. “Oh, I already did,” she confesses with a grin. “Just don’t tell Trevor.”

The entire table bursts into laughter—except for me.

I scoff.

Riley notices immediately. “Oh, come on, Grace,” she teases. “Even you have to admit the man has a great ass.”

I push back from the table abruptly. “I need a drink.”

Kate’s eyes narrow slightly as she watches me stand. “I’ll come with you,” she says, rising from her chair and following me toward the cooler on the other side of the patio.

I yank open the lid, grabbing a bottle of water instead of a beer. Kate waits until I twist the cap off before speaking.

“Okay,” she says, crossing her arms, “what’s your deal with Kane? You’ve been glaring at him all day. Actually, now that I think about it, you’ve been glaring at him for months.”

I take a long drink, trying to buy myself time. “I don’t have a deal with him.”

Kate lifts an eyebrow. “Grace. You most definitely have a deal with him. What is it?”

I let out a breath, my fingers tightening around the plastic bottle. “Do you remember the night we met Kane and Hudson?”

Kate’s face softens. “Of course I do.”

I nod, bracing myself. “Hudson took you home, and you found your person that night.” I let out a hollow laugh. “Kane took me home, too. Do you remember that?”

Kate tilts her head. “Of course I do. So? ”

I swallow hard. “That night, I came onto him,” I pause because I’m still so embarrassed for my drunken behavior. “and he shot me down. Cold and calculated.”

Kate’s eyes widen. “But you were drunk. He was being a gentleman, Grace. You’re mad at him for that?”

I huff out another laugh, shaking my head. “No. Of course not. But…”

She shakes her head, completely floored. “But, what?”

I glance over my shoulder at Kane, who is laughing at something Chance just said, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

I sigh. “I was so into him that night, Kate. I mean, really into him. He took me home, and I invited him inside. And you know what he did?”

Kate’s mouth presses into a thin line. “Tell me.”

“He laughed when I tried to kiss him. Like I was some silly little girl throwing herself at him. Like it was cute that I thought I had a shot with him.”

Kate blinks. “Wait. He laughed?”

I nod. “And then he told me I was too drunk and he doesn’t ‘mess around’ with drunk girls, and he left.” I let out another breath, shaking my head. “And now? I see him all over town with a different woman on his arm every damn time. So clearly, he messes around just fine. Just not with me.”

Kate’s expression twists into something between anger and disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”

“Nope,” I mutter, taking another swig of water. “So, you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t care for your boyfriend’s best friend.”

Kate puts a hand on my arm. “Grace.”

I shake my head, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “What’s wrong with me, Kate? I can’t even get a horndog guy to sleep with me. Am I ugly? Repulsive? Do I smell?” My voice is quiet, but the words feel heavy. “Why am I not good enough?”

Kate’s eyes soften instantly. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong with you.” She grips my hand tightly. “Kane is a jerk, Grace. If he doesn’t see how incredible you are, then that’s his loss, not yours.”

I let out a hollow laugh. “Yeah, right.”

But deep down, it still stings. A lot. Because Kane did see me that night, and he still walked away.

Kate watches me carefully. “Are you sure this isn’t about more than just that night?”

I shake my head, pasting on a smile. “What more can it be? He’s not even given me the time of day since then.” I wave her off. “I’m fine, Kate. Really.”

Kate gives me a long, knowing look, but she doesn’t push.

I glance over my shoulder again, my eyes landing on Kane, and I tell myself the same lie I’ve been telling myself for months. I don’t care about Kane Mitchell. I don’t.

Even as my heart thumps a little harder just looking at him. Even as I know, deep down, that if he ever really looked back at me—if he ever saw me the way I wanted him to—I’d be in so much trouble.

But that won’t happen.

Because Kane doesn’t want someone like me, and I refuse to want someone who doesn’t want me back.

So why does it feel like the biggest lie I’ve ever told myself?