They turned a corner and stepped into a tucked-away shopping strip. Claire’s eyes lit up.
A couple of local boutiques.
An old-school diner with checkered floors.
And a coffee shop with a crooked sign that read Spilt Beans.
“How did you even find this place?”
Jaxon grinned. “When you went to the restroom at dinner, I asked our server for recs. Told me this spot was worth checking out.”
“Why the server and not the concierge?”
He shrugged. “Because the server lives here. He’s not trying to impress anyone—he’s telling me where he goes. The concierge would’ve sent us to some polished mega-center with valet parking and a celebrity-owned gelato place. I don’t want the nicest, Claire. I want the best.”
He motioned to the diner across the lot.
“That place? Bet they’ve got the best burgers in the city.”
Claire looked at the half-empty booths. “But it’s dead.”
“It’s one. Lunch rush is over. Locals here probably get a half-hour max. Come back at six, and it’ll be packed. Line out the door.”
She laughed. “And you know this how?”
“Because every city has that spot. The hole-in-the-wall that serves fries better than Michelin-star places. It’s not about the lights—it’s about the flavor. Trust me.”
Claire looked around again. The colors. The smells. The charm that didn’t try to sell itself. The way his world never felt like an accident.
And maybe that was what was getting to her the most.
He didn’t just know how to plan a day.
He knew how to make it feel unforgettable—without ever saying that was the goal.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye.
And quietly, almost guiltily, she thought—
This doesn’t feel like a trip anymore.
It feels like the beginning of something that might be impossible to walk away from.
34
Tourist Spotting
Afterscarfingdownbreakfastand cleaning up like they were on a timed cooking show, the girls made their way out to the dock, bare feet dangling over the water.
“I swear,” Macie said, sighing into the breeze, “we’ve been here how many times now? And this view just keeps getting better.”
“It’s the peace,” Taylor said. “Everything just... slows down here.”
“It’s the kind of place,” Sara murmured, “you could see yourself staying. All the time.”
There was a pause. One of those soft, dangerous ones.
“Okay,” Macie said, “instead of going out tonight, how about we cook dinner? We eat out here. Dock lights, music, wine—vibes.”
