Chapter 11
The Hard One
Claire had been ready for over an hour—but that didn’t mean she was calm.
She paced. She double-checked her hair. She debated redoing her makeup. Twice.
“Let’s go,” she said, practically herding the girls out of the house like they were late for church. “Come on, come on, move!”
Taylor looked at her sideways as they loaded into the SUV. “You good?”
“I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh,” Macie said from the driver’s seat, smirking. “You’ve only been buzzing around the house like a caffeinated hummingbird.”
“Shut up and drive.”
The GPS led them off the main road and onto a gravel drive that twisted beneath the canopy of old oak trees. The deeper they went, the more unsure it all felt.
Taylor leaned forward from the back. “Are we… sure this is right? This feels like we’re being lured into a Nicholas Sparks-themed abduction.”
“The GPS says this is it,” Macie replied, squinting at the phone like it might betray her.
As they rounded a bend in the drive, the trees opened just enough to reveal a massive boulder nestled between two trunks. One word was chiseled clean into its surface: Stone.
“Wait… have y’all ever heard of a restaurant called Stone?” Sara asked, suddenly alert.
No one answered.
Because just past the boulder, the trees cleared—and jaws dropped.
A pristine white Victorian cottage came into view, its wraparound porch glowing under warm lights. The grass was perfectly manicured, the flower beds sharp, and the balusters along the porch were hand-carved like they belonged in a Southern Living magazine.
“Oh my God,” Macie gasped. “This is his house!”
“This is stupid beautiful,” Sara added, barely able to blink.
Jaxon stepped out onto the porch as the SUV rolled to a stop. Claire opened the rear driver-side door and slowly stepped out, bare legs swinging down first, followed by a breath of nerves she couldn’t quite catch.
Jaxon didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
He was watching her—fully.
As Claire straightened up and closed the door, the girls watched from inside with the kind of intensity normally reserved for reality TV finales.
Sara rolled down the window. “You gonna be okay?”
Claire nodded, her voice steady but soft. “Yeah. I’ll call when I’m ready.”
Then she turned and walked down the stone pathway, each step crunching gently beneath her. Jaxon stepped off the porch to meet her at the base of the steps.
He took her hand.
“You are,” he said, voice low and reverent, “the absolute most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Claire flushed, lips curving into a smile. “Thank you… You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He grinned. “I hope you're hungry. I’ve got the table set out back.”
And just like that, Claire was speechless.
No one had ever treated her like this—like she was worth planning for. Preparing for. Like he wanted her here, not just wanted her.
The only thing she could come up with was, “Show me the way.”
Still holding her hand, Jaxon led her around the deck, down the side stairs, and across the lawn. As they turned the corner, Claire froze.
A honey-stained pergola stood at the edge of the property, wrapped in soft string lights that cast golden shadows across the lawn.
Beneath it was a dining table dressed in linen, lanterns flickering softly, and a view that looked like it belonged in a movie—sun dipping low over the sound, water glinting like it was made of molten silver.
“Oh my God,” she breathed.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” Jaxon said as they reached the table. “So I made a little of everything.”
Claire blinked, taking in the spread. Grilled chicken, shrimp, salad, roasted veggies, handmade sides.
“You… made all of this?”
He shrugged, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Everything but the dessert. I’m not a baker. I know my limits.”
They sat. And for the first time since the plane, the nervousness between them melted.
They talked. They laughed. They traded stories like they were playing cards. But somewhere between the second beer and the third story, Claire tilted her head.
“You’ve asked about me, but you really haven’t said much about yourself.”
Jaxon looked down for a second, then back up. “I’m an open book… I just don’t open often.”
“Fine,” Claire smirked. “Then I’ll talk about you, and you can fill in the blanks.”
“I can do that.”
“You’re a great cook. You have a stunning home. You clearly have a good job, and everyone in town seems to like you. So tell me—why are you single?”
Jaxon didn’t flinch. He just set his drink down and looked her dead in the eyes.
“I was wondering when that would come up.”
Claire leaned in slightly. “So?”
He paused—long enough to make her pulse skip.
“I’ve had good relationships. Ones that made sense on paper. Ones that were fun… for a while. But I haven’t had the hard one.”
“The hard one?” Claire echoed.
He leaned closer. Voice softer. Slower.
“The one you work at. The one where you fall for someone so hard, it bothers your soul to be apart. Where the connection is so intense it drives you both insane, but the second you’re not together, you ache for them.
You forget why you fought. You only remember that you’d rather be losing your mind beside them than at peace without them.
And when you finally make up… it’s not just makeup sex.
It’s sacred. It’s breathless. It’s magical. ”
Claire sat back, stunned.
No man had ever said anything like that to her. Not with that much conviction. That much rawness. He wasn’t playing a role. He wasn’t trying to impress her. He was just telling the truth.
And it wrecked her.
She picked up her beer, took a long sip to quiet the ache in her throat, and nodded once, slowly.
Because she didn’t need to say it.
She felt the same damn way.
And maybe—just maybe—she was already starting to feel that hard one… too.