Page 35 of Fixing Up My Love Life

Kira fills the bucket with sand and seaweed like she’s creating a five-star hotel. Snappy immediately tries to escape.

“He’s a runner,” Lila says, arms crossed. “Classic Twin Waves guy.”

Caroline chortles with laughter. “Tell me about it.”

What have those poor girls been dealing with at high school? Or were they referring to Jack?

Jack and Brett chat again by the grill, and my chest tightens.

Jack catches my gaze and walks over.

“Mom! He’s escaping,” Ellen calls at my feet.

Jack and I both lunge for the bucket at the same time. Our hands collide, fingers tangling as we try to catch Snappy. For a heartbeat, we're frozen—his thumb tracing across my knuckles, his face inches from mine.

“Got him,” Jack murmurs, but his gaze is on me, not the crab.

“Jack . . .” My breath catches. “Lucas is staring,” I whisper, pulling away reluctantly.

Jack straightens, clearing his throat. “Crisis averted.”

But my pulse is still racing, and from the heat in Jack's gaze, his is too.

I laugh despite myself, and it’s the kind of laugh that bubbles up from deep inside, a place I didn’t realize had gone quiet.

The sun dips below the trees, and fireworks begin popping in the distance. The kids gather on towels, sticky with s’mores and wide-eyed with wonder. Ellen guards Snappy’s bucket like it holds national secrets.

Jack slides onto the porch step beside me.

We sit in silence for a moment, watching the kids twirl their sparklers and cheer at each firework. It’s warm, easy, deceptively peaceful.

“I saw you and Brett talking earlier.” I try to keep my voice steady. “Planning your exit strategy?”

Jack turns to face me fully, his jaw tight. "Is that really what you think of me?"

"I think you're scared." The words come out more vulnerable than I intended. "I think when things get real, you run."

"And I think you're looking for reasons to push me away before I can hurt you." His voice is rough, honest. "But I'm not going anywhere, Hazel."

"Prove it," I whisper.

The challenge hangs between us, loaded with everything we're both afraid to say. Jack's hand moves toward mine on the step, and I don't pull away. His fingers brush mine, sending electricity up my arm.

"How?" he asks, voice barely audible over the fireworks.

Before I can answer, Ellen's voice cuts through the moment. "Mom! Snappy's getting away again!"

We spring apart, the spell broken but not forgotten.

My heart dips.

Below us, Snappy makes another escape attempt, ramming his shell against the side of the bucket like a tiny armored escape artist.

“I feel like that crab,” I mutter. “Constantly trying to bust out of a life that doesn’t quite fit.”

Jack chuckles softly, but there’s tensionbehind it. “Maybe Snappy’s not trying to escape,” he says. “Maybe he’s trying to see if someone will stop him.”

I glance at him, caught off guard by that. The fireworks explode louder now, but somehow the silence between us feels just as loud. He doesn't say anything more. Neither do I. And even though the night is beautiful, I can’t shake the feeling that he’s still holding something back.

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