Chapter 6

Chapter

Six

Steppingout into the warm coastal breeze, I find myself behind the tiki bar of the Seashell Inn, my sanctuary and slice of paradise. The inn, with its quaint bungalows scattered along a stone path, each topped with thatched roofs, whispers tales of relaxation and escape. It"s more than just a business to me; it"s a testament to a life lived at one"s own pace, under the vast, open sky and beside the lulling waves of the Gulf.

I"m shaking up a cocktail, the rhythmic clinks of ice against the shaker blending with the distant calls of seabirds, when Jasper walks over. The change in him since his return to Mystic Hollow eight months ago is nothing short of miraculous. Back then, he was a man on a mission, dead set on severing a magical bond with Iris, only to find himself ensnared in a different kind of magic altogether—love. Now, they"re planning a wedding. Life"s funny with its twists and turns.

"How was Cali, man?" Jasper"s voice pulls me back from my reverie, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Ah, California never disappoints," I say, pouring the vibrant liquid into a chilled glass and handing it to a guest before turning back to Jasper. "The waves, the sun... it"s like hitting a reset button."

"Because you have so much to escape from," Jasper jokes, motioning to the ocean behind us.

I reply with a grin, because he's right. Not that I haven't been through hell to get where I'm at. Sometimes it still feels like I'm going through it. Life hasn't always been easy, and I'm not going to apologize for enjoying it when I do.

I get Jasper a beer and a bottle of Coke for myself. We"re sipping our drinks, the calm before the storm of friends for tonight"s BBQ and bonfire, when Gigi strolls up, her energy as infectious as ever. "Morgan, my dear, make me something sinful," she chuckles, perching on a bar stool. "And don"t you dare skimp on the good stuff this time. I know cheap rum when I taste it."

"Aye, Aye, Captain," I reply with a nod while I work to mix the dame up a rum punch comprised of pineapple juice, orange juice, dark rum, lime juice, and grenadine.

Gigi is Iris's grandmother, and I recently hired her to run the front desk after my sister Eliza started baking cakes full-time. Life at Seashell Inn has never been more exciting or amusing.

Gigi's already managing every part of my life that she can get her hands on.

"I took the liberty of watering your plants today," Gigi begins, her tone casual yet shaded with a hint of reproof. "And I"ve freshened up your bed linens as well—not that you ever use them."

Jasper lifts an eyebrow in my direction, a silent question hanging in the air.

"It"s more practical to stay here. Someone always needs something," I deflect, reaching for a glass and focusing intently on the task at hand, hoping to steer the conversation away from my living arrangements.

Gigi, unfooled and undeterred, tuts. "Practical, he says. As if that big, empty house is doing anyone any good sitting there all alone." Her gaze softens, though, betraying her genuine concern beneath the teasing.

Jasper"s laughter breaks free, earning him a pointed look from me. "Hey, I'm just glad she's giving you grief as opposed to me," he admits, raising his glass in a mock toast.

"Someone's gotta keep you boys in line." Gigi looks expectantly at me to finish her drink.

"Can"t a guy get a break around here?" I grumble, half-hearted, as I put the finishing touches on her drink, adding a tropical twist with a slice of pineapple and a miniature umbrella. "Only the best for you," I say, handing it over.

Gigi plucks the pineapple off the rim and bites into it, taking some of the juice before dropping it into her drink. "That reminds me. There"s a pineapple on your counter — don"t let it go to waste this time," she adds, the maternal note in her voice hard to miss.

Desperate to shift the focus from my domestic habits, or lack thereof, I quickly pivot. "Where"s Iris?" I scan the beach, genuinely curious. "Figured she"d be here by now."

Jasper"s grin widens. "Airport run. Picking up a friend, she said."

"Should've told me. I could've saved her a trip." My mind instantly goes back to the woman on the plane. I must've thought about her a hundred times in the past two hours.

"Guess it was last minute," Jasper replies.

The moment is interrupted by the arrival of Eliza, her arms laden with what can only be described as a masterpiece of a cake. "Look at you, putting those culinary skills to good use," I tease, admiring the intricate details of the frosting.

Eliza rolls her eyes. "You could have dessert like this every night if you married the right woman." She puts the cake on the wooden bar top next to the appetizers already set out.

"I don"t know; I don't see a ring on your finger," I reply, raising my eyebrows.

She huffs, a playful glint in her eye. "I"m looking, trust me. And when I find him, he"ll be dazzled by more than just my baking."

I hold up my hand in a stopping motion. I don't want to think about my sister dazzling anyone.

"Hey, you asked," she replies with a wicked smile. "When I find him, I'm not letting go."

I shake my head. The thought of settling down, of finding "the one," seems as foreign to me as the notion of leaving this little slice of heaven. Life"s too unpredictable, too full of opportunities for adventure and spontaneity. Why tie myself down?

Jasper, ever the romantic since his engagement, chimes in. "Quit shaking your head. You"ll see. When it happens? It hits you like a wave—unexpected and all-consuming."

"Sounds an awful lot like drowning," I reply with a laugh. I lean forward to take a swipe at the white frosting on the cake. Eliza swats my hand, her mock indignation only adding to the light-hearted banter.