Chapter 5
GRACE
The bonfire waits ahead like a beacon, its orange heat pulsing against the dark.
Sparks drift upward in lazy spirals, caught briefly by the wind before winking out against the stars.
Laughter spills toward us across the sand, bright and easy, mingling with the low thrum of an acoustic guitar and the steady crash of waves rolling in behind us.
Jake’s hand rests at the small of my back as we approach, warm through the thin cotton of my sundress.
The touch feels deliberate yet casual, a quiet claim that sends tiny shivers racing along my spine.
My bare feet sink into cool sand still holding the day’s heat, and every step forward tightens the knot of anticipation in my stomach.
I’m not sure what I expected when I agreed to come tonight.
Maybe a quick hello, polite smiles, then an early escape back to the cottage.
The reality of stepping into his world, surrounded by his people, makes my pulse skip in a rhythm I can’t quite steady.
Heads turn as we near the circle of blankets and low beach chairs. A few guys raise their beers in lazy salute, grins spreading wide and knowing. One of them, a broad-shouldered, sun-bleached god with hair falling into his eyes, stands first, calling out over the crackle of the fire.
“Jake Thompson finally graces us with his presence, and he brought a woman. Hell must have frozen over.”
Jake’s chuckle rumbles low beside me, his thumb tracing a small, soothing circle against my lower back. “Easy, Ryan. Grace, meet Ryan. He surfs like he’s auditioning for a wipeout highlight reel and talks twice as much as he paddles.”
Ryan laughs, deep and unoffended, stepping forward to offer a quick, one-armed hug that smells like bonfire smoke and pine. “Pleasure, Grace. Heard you’ve got our boy making actual morning appearances at the coffee shop.”
Heat floods my cheeks. Jake shoots Ryan a look that’s equal parts warning and amusement. “Keep running your mouth, and I’ll remind everyone about that epic face-plant last week. The one caught on video.”
The group erupts in good-natured teasing, whistles, and catcalls rising into the night.
More names tumble out in quick succession.
Mia, Ryan’s girlfriend, immediately pulls me down onto a thick wool blanket beside her and presses a perfectly toasted marshmallow on a stick into my hand.
Cole, quiet and watchful, nods hello and passes me a chilled bottle of water without being asked.
A couple more faces blur in the firelight.
Everyone offers smiles, handshakes, and easy welcomes that feel genuine rather than obligatory.
The questions come fast.
“So how’d you two meet?” Mia asks, leaning in with bright curiosity, marshmallow goo clinging to her fingers.
“Fireworks,” Jake answers before I can open my mouth. His arm drapes casually across my shoulders now, fingers playing idly with the ends of my hair. “She came to the bar for a drink, and we hit it off. I offered to help her with her beach needs, and the next day she came in for sunscreen.”
“I bet you offered to help.” Mia’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “An offer where you personally apply it?”
Jake’s ears turn the faintest shade of pink. “Something like that.”
Laughter ripples around the circle again.
I feel the knot in my chest loosen another fraction.
They’re curious, intensely so, but there’s no judgment in it.
They simply fold me into the conversation like I’ve always belonged here, passing drinks and stories and inside jokes that Jake patiently explains when I look lost.
A woman approaches from the far side of the fire, tall and athletic, dark hair pulled into a loose braid that swings against her back. She has Jake’s eyes and the same easy confidence in her stride. She stops in front of us, hands planted on her hips, studying me with open, unapologetic interest.
“You must be Grace,” she says. Her smile is wide and real, crinkling the corners of her eyes. “I’m Liv. This idiot’s older, wiser sister.”
Jake groans. “Liv.”
Liv ignores him completely, dropping onto the blanket beside me with graceful ease. “Ignore him. He’s been unbearable since he met you. I’ve had to listen to three straight days of ‘sunshine girl in the yellow dress’ updates. Thought I’d come see the legend for myself.”
I laugh despite the sudden warmth flooding my face. “He talks about me?”
“Oh, honey.” Liv leans closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “He doesn’t shut up. It’s disgusting and adorable in equal measure. I haven’t seen him this distracted since he was fifteen and tried to impress a girl by doing a backflip off the pier. Spoiler: he landed on his face.”
Jake reaches over and gently shoves her shoulder. “You’re the worst wingman in history.”
Liv grins at him, then turns back to me. “Seriously, though. It’s nice to meet you. He’s been flying solo way too long. Nice to see him smiling like a fool.”
The words settle somewhere deep in my chest. I glance at Jake.
He’s staring into the fire now, jaw tight, but the corner of his mouth lifts when he catches me looking.
There’s something vulnerable in his expression, something he doesn’t show the rest of the group, something that makes my heart squeeze painfully.
Liv stands, brushing sand from her jeans. “Come find me if he gets too annoying. I’ve got blackmail material that’ll embarrass him for life.”
She winks and heads toward the cooler, leaving me with the warmth of her welcome still blooming under my skin.
The night unfolds in a gentle blur of sensation.
Someone cranks the music higher, upbeat covers of old beach classics, and the group starts dancing on the packed sand near the fire.
Jake pulls me up, spinning me once under his arm before drawing me close again.
His hands settle at my waist, thumbs tracing slow circles through fabric, and I let myself melt against him.
We move together, bodies brushing, then pressing, the heat of the fire at our backs and the cooler night air kissing our faces.
Mia drags me into a silly line dance I barely know, laughing when I stumble, and Jake catches me around the waist. Ryan starts a round of glow-stick limbo that ends with half the group falling into the sand in a heap of laughter.
I sip my drink slowly, savoring the looseness spreading through my limbs, the way Jake’s gaze keeps finding mine across the flames, dark and hungry and patient all at once.
Around midnight, the energy shifts. People begin to drift away in pairs or small groups, calling sleepy goodbyes over their shoulders. The fire burns lower, glowing red against the dark sand.
Jake stands, offering me his hand.
“Walk you home?”
I take it, letting him pull me up. “Yeah.”
We say our final goodnights, and after another round of hugs and teasing, we start back along the moonlit beach. The moon hangs full and silver, painting a shimmering path across the water. Our footsteps sync without effort, the only sounds the gentle lap of waves and our breathing.
Halfway to the cottage, he stops, turning me gently to face him. Moonlight catches in his eyes, turning them almost gold.
“You were incredible tonight,” he says quietly. “You fit right in. They loved you.”
“They’re easy to love,” I reply. “Especially your sister. She’s protective of you.”
He nods. “She’s the best. Been looking out for me since we were kids.”
We start walking again, slower now. His fingers lace through mine, thumb stroking the back of my hand in slow sweeps.
“Grace,” he says after a while. “About tonight…”
My stomach tightens. “Yeah?”
“I don’t want you thinking this is just fun for me or casual. It’s not.”
The words hang between us, heavy and honest. I stop walking, turning to him fully.
“Jake, I—”
He shakes his head gently. “I know what you said. Boundaries. August. I heard you. I’m not asking you to change your mind. I’m just telling you where I stand. You matter to me more than I expected, more than I probably should admit this soon.”
My throat feels tight. “I don’t know how to do this. Let someone in again. Not after…”
“I know.” He lifts our joined hands, presses a kiss to my knuckles. “I’m not pushing, but I’m also not pretending this is nothing. You feel it too. I see it in the way you look at me. The way you lean into my touch.”
I do feel it. Deep, terrifying, and thrilling all at once. The night presses close around us: the crash of waves, the cool sand under my feet, the warmth of his hand in mine.
“I’m scared,” I whisper.
He steps closer, free hand cupping my cheek. “Me too, honestly. I’d rather be scared with you than alone without you.”
The kiss that follows is slow, deep, full of everything we’re not saying. His arms wrap around me, pulling me flush against him. I melt into it, letting the fear and the want tangle together until they’re indistinguishable.
When we finally break apart, he rests his forehead against mine. “Let’s get you home.”
We walk the rest of the way in silence, hands linked, hearts loud in the quiet night.
At the cottage door, he kisses me again. The kiss is gentle this time, lingering. “Sleep well, Grace.”
“You too.”
He waits until I’m inside, until the lock clicks, before turning back toward the beach. I watch him through the window until he disappears into the dark, broad shoulders outlined by moonlight.
I lean against the door, heart still racing.
Tonight was supposed to be casual. A bonfire. A walk. Nothing more.
The way he looked at me, like I’m something rare and worth keeping, makes casual feel like a lie. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep believing it.
Inside the cottage, the air feels thick with anticipation. The lamp beside the couch casts warm amber light across the room, turning everything soft and golden. I kick off my sandals, toes curling against the cool wood floor, and wait.
The knock comes less than five minutes later. It’s soft, almost hesitant.