Chapter 16 Crossed Wires
Crossed Wires
The smell of burgers on the grill drifted across the yard, riding the breeze like a memory. It carried through the laughter at the outdoor table, wrapped around the porch railings, and floated down toward the sound—smoke curling like soft fingers toward the marsh.
Claire stood back from the crowd, her eyes scanning the scene like she was trying to memorize it.
The sounds, the scents, the effortless connection—every laugh and shout tangled with something else in the air. Something warmer than charcoal, more intoxicating than beer.
It was belonging.
She looked around, watching the way everyone gravitated toward Jax. The way they smiled when he spoke, the way he tossed jokes back and never missed a beat. And it wasn’t just charisma. It was respect. It was love.
He’s built this, she thought. Not just the house. Not just the dock. But this life.
And the thought that struck next—quiet but jarring—was one she couldn’t ignore:
He’s surrounded himself with the people I’ve always hoped to meet.
Claire blinked against the thought, eyes falling on Mike, standing beside Jax with a beer in hand. The same man who dropped everything just to help four strangers in the middle of the night. She glanced toward Carter and Trevor, who were already stirring up the crowd.
Fifteen years in Duluth, and she couldn’t name five people who’d do what these men did for her in a single weekend.
Then came Jax’s voice, breaking through her spiral:
“Burgers are hot like the chef—come get some!”
Laughter erupted from the table. Claire smiled, already bracing herself.
“Are we getting some of the burgers or the chef?” Carter shouted.
Trevor chimed in, voice slick with teasing. “I’ll take a bite of both!”
“I feel like no serious conversations happen when you three are together,” Macie yelled over the laughter.
“Laughter is the best medicine,” Trevor called back. “Why do you think we look so damn good?”
The group howled.
Claire laughed too, but not just at the joke.
She was laughing at herself.
Because even in the middle of the laughter, her mind was slipping again. Back to that bedroom. The one with the floor-to-ceiling view. The one that made her imagine mornings wrapped in warm sheets and quiet love. The one that made her wonder.
What if I stayed?
The thought slid in before she could stop it.
I’m a teacher. I have the credentials. All I’d need is to align my licensure and take the North Carolina exam. It wouldn’t be impossible.
It was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous.
She scolded herself. It’s only been a few days.
But her thoughts didn’t listen.
They never did.
She stepped away from the table, down the dock, needing air that didn’t feel so thick with feeling.
From behind her, footsteps. Then warmth.
Jax’s arm slipped around her shoulder, easy, unassuming, like it belonged there.
“I know that look,” he said.
Claire turned to him, smiling despite herself. “What look?”
He exhaled slowly. “The look of change. It’s the same one I had all those years ago—when I fell in love with this place.”
Claire looked out over the sound. The water was a sheet of silver, the sun starting its slow descent toward the horizon.
“I can’t help it,” she admitted. “This place… it’s magic. The island’s always felt special, but this? This feels different. Like I’m seeing the real island for the first time. And it’s making me question… everything.”
Jax nodded, quiet.
“I get it. I was right where you are. And I was lucky enough to be at a point in my life where the decision was easier than I expected.”
He paused, then grinned. “But right now, Claire? You don’t have to figure all that out.”
He turned toward her, eyes bright.
“You just have to decide what you want on your burger. Come on.”
She laughed, shaking her head.
But even as she followed him back toward the crowd, something stayed with her.
Most people can’t pull me out of my head when I get like that.
But he did.
With a joke. With a look. With a moment.
And somehow, that meant everything.
The afternoon melted into evening, the laughter stretching long past golden hour. Music drifted through the speakers, drinks clinked, and stories flowed like they’d known each other for years.
When the sun dipped below the marsh and the sky turned to velvet, the goodbyes began. The crowd thinned slowly, the warmth lingering like the smoke from the grill.
Claire stood at the edge of the dock again, just for a minute, needing one last look before leaving.
The sound was still.
The lights from the house reflected off the water like a mirror, and the breeze tugged softly at her hair.
She didn’t say it out loud.
But she felt it.
I don’t want to go.
Jax met her at the end of the dock, keys in hand.
“Ready to head back?” he asked, voice low and soft.
Claire turned, offering a gentle smile. “Yeah.”
But part of her?
Was already trying to find a reason to stay.