CHAPTER EIGHT

As the afternoon sun filtered through the gauzy curtains of the upstairs room, April fluffed the pillows with a practiced hand. The scent of lemon polish lingered in the air as Jackson methodically wiped down the antique bedside tables, his tanned forearms flexing with each swipe of the cloth. He paused, the cloth dangling from his hand as he glanced over at April.

"How long did you say they"re staying again?" His voice was casual, tinted with curiosity.

"Only for a few days," April responded, smoothing out the freshly laundered bedspread. "They"re here to witness the bird migration, apparently." She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, watching as surprise lifted Jackson"s dark brows.

Jackson set down the cloth, turning to face her fully, his expression an amusing mix of intrigue and bewilderment. In this light, the fine lines around his eyes were barely noticeable, but they spoke volumes about the smiles and squints under the relentless sun of Dune Island.

April offered a nonchalant shrug, tossing a pillow into its rightful place on the neatly made bed. "They"ll probably spend most of their time outdoors, chasing after birds with binoculars and cameras," she said, her voice laced with a hint of amusement.

"Maybe we"ll learn a thing or two about our feathered friends," Jackson quipped, his tone playful, yet underscored by the warmth that always seemed to radiate from him.

April"s laugh, genuine and unguarded, filled the space between them. "Birds aren"t really my thing," she admitted, tucking the final corner of the sheet into place. There was an ease in her movements, a grace acquired from months of creating a refuge not just for guests, but for herself as well.

"Thankfully," Jackson replied, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he picked up the cleaning cloth once more, "otherwise I"d be roped into building a bird sanctuary next."

Their shared laughter was a gentle reminder of the bond they had formed, forged through hard work and mutual understanding—a partnership that had become the cornerstone of April"s new found life on Dune Island.

April"s fingers worked deftly, placing an assortment of local chocolates and a sprig of wildflowers into the welcome basket. The soft rustle of tissue paper accompanied her careful arrangements, each fold and placement an echo of the care she put into her bed and breakfast. A glance toward Jackson caught him in his final, methodical sweeps over the antique dresser, his movements precise and thoughtful.

The laughter they shared still hung lightly in the air, a pleasant melody that seemed to make the room glow warmer. Compelled by a wave of affection, April stepped across the room, her path illuminated by the late afternoon sun that streamed through the lace curtains.

She reached for him, her arms looping comfortably around his waist as she drew herself against his firm frame. The scent of sawdust and sunshine clung to his skin, a familiar fragrance that spoke of days spent outdoors, of labor and love intertwined. As she nestled her head into the crook of his neck, a sigh escaped her—a release of tension she hadn"t realized she was holding.

His hands came to rest on her back, solid and reassuring. For a moment, they stood in silence, their closeness speaking volumes more than words ever could. It was in this embrace that April found her haven, the tempest of her thoughts quieting in the harbor of Jackson"s presence.

The question slipped from her lips before she could catch it, a whisper barely louder than the beating of her own heart. "Jackson, are we going to make it through this weekend?"

He responded not with words but with a gentle tilt of his chin, resting it atop her head, a silent promise that he was there, unmovable. The weight of his affirmation was both comforting and disarming; his strength became hers.

Yet, when uncertainty flickered within her, he seemed to sense it, his fingers lifting her face to meet his gaze. His eyes, a mirror of the endless skies above Dune Island, held a conviction that bordered on certainty. "We"ll do it together," he assured her.

In those four words, there was no strategy, no detailed plan laid out before them—merely the unspoken understanding that, side by side, they were a force unto themselves. April knew the truth of it, that despite the absence of logistics, their unity was the most practical solution they needed.

Their foreheads touched, a quiet communion in the midst of preparations and anticipation, and in that small gesture, a universe of support was conveyed. Together, they would weather whatever storms life on the island sent their way.

April attempted a smile, but it faltered, a dim echo of her usual radiant grin. Jackson"s observant gaze narrowed slightly as he caught the subtle shift in her demeanor. His hands, still slightly damp from the cleaning, reached out and steadied her by the shoulders, guiding her through the fog of apprehension.

Without a word, his thumbs brushed gently along the fabric of her blouse, movements that seemed to sweep away her worries one by one. There was an unwavering certainty in his touch, a silent reassurance that spoke louder than any promise. He would take on the mantle of wedding preparations, leaving her to shine in the role she excelled at—hosting their family and creating unforgettable memories.

"Besides," Jackson continued, "they"ll all be doing their own thing in no time. We"ll be able to sit back and focus on the wedding, and everything will fall into place. Today will be the most chaotic because everyone"s getting here, and they"re all so excited for us. But it"ll fizzle out until the wedding day, when it"ll probably be chaos again."

As April watched Jackson, his unspoken commitment wrapping around her like a warm blanket, her thoughts drifted to their partnership. It was a dance they had perfected without ever stepping on each other"s toes; him leading when needed, her following with grace. The realization dawned on her, a quiet sunrise illuminating the truth—she"d never known someone who could ease her burdens with such intuitive precision.

In his presence, the weekend"s work loomed less dauntingly, its edges softened by the knowledge that Jackson stood with her. The pressure that so often tightened around her chest seemed to dissolve, her breaths coming easier. They were a team, seamlessly interwoven threads in the tapestry of this endeavor.

"You're right," she replied simply.

April's gaze lingered on the strong lines of Jackson"s face, the set of his jaw that spoke of determination, and the gentle slope of his nose that hinted at his kindness. Together, they were a balance of strength and softness, a harmony that transformed labor into something akin to a symphony.

April reached up, her fingers brushing against the stubble on Jackson"s jaw, an action that was both familiar and exhilarating. His lips met hers in a kiss that was tender and lingering, a silent conversation of shared dreams and promises. A smile brightened her face as she pulled away, her eyes sparkling with the anticipation of their future together.

Jackson"s arms wrapped around her, his embrace a fortress against any tempest life could brew. Within the circle of his hold, the chaos that so often swirled within April stilled to a tranquil sea. Here, anchored by his steadfast presence, she found solace. All the worries about the bed and breakfast, about the wedding, seemed to melt away in the warmth of his touch.

"Ready to show our guests to their rooms?" Jackson"s voice rumbled softly, his breath tickling her ear.

She opened her mouth, the reply perched on the tip of her tongue, but before the words could take flight, Grandma Vera"s voice echoed from the staircase, calling them with an urgency that couldn"t be ignored.

"April, Jackson, get down here, quick!"

April glanced at Jackson, a silent communication passing between them, and with a final squeeze of assurance, they parted—ready to face whatever awaited them below.

Hand in hand, April and Jackson descended the old wooden staircase, their steps synchronized. The air seemed to thicken with tension as they reached the landing, an undercurrent of unease that had nothing to do with the sun-dappled coziness of the bed and breakfast"s main hall or the quiet hum of anticipation for their wedding day.

The living room was aglow with the muted blues and grays of the television screen, casting flickering shadows over the comfortable furniture. Grandma Vera stood statue-like, her posture rigid, eyes unblinking as she absorbed the news report.

"A hurricane is currently making it's way inland. What was assumed to be a simple storm over the ocean seas is now turning in towards land. All members in the listed counties must be careful of being outdoors and should prepare for the storm heading their way. It's said to have extremely fast winds, harsh rain and lots of flooding."

April felt Jackson's grip tighten around her fingers, an unspoken solidarity forming between them as the reporter"s voice cut through the soft buzz of conversation. With each word about the hurricane"s unexpected turn inland, a knot formed in April"s stomach, a contrast to the gentle flutter of excitement that had been there just moments before.

"Can you believe this?" Jackson muttered, close enough that his breath warmed her ear.

She didn"t need to voice her disbelief; it was painted plainly on her face as she watched the projection of the hurricane"s path—a sinister swirl of nature"s unpredictability barreling towards Dune Island.

"No," was all she managed to let out. It was a mix of disappointment and defeat echoing in her voice.

A surge of frustration coursed through her. Another storm. Another test to her resolve. Why here? Why now? But even as the thought surfaced, she knew the answer. This place, with its wild beauty, with its capacity for both calm and chaos, mirrored the life she had chosen—far from the structured, sterile world of law she"d left behind.

With the island came the storms, but also the unparalleled joy of clear skies, the thrill of the high tides receding to reveal treasures hidden beneath, and the sense of accomplishment from every nail hammered into the BB"s restoration. She loved it here—the land, the sea, the community, the new beginning.

And so, as the weight of uncertainty pressed down upon her, she turned to look at Jackson, who met her gaze with a steady one of his own. In his eyes, she found the silent promise that had bound them together: no matter what storms may come, they would take it on together.

But a storm like this, so close to the wedding? Could she really be sure they would all make it through this?