Skye blushed, waving away the praise. "Just lucky, I guess. And speaking of - " she gestured toward a young couple approaching their table " - look who else is here."
“Heard you were back in town, Whitmore.”
"Alex Moretti!” Jess exclaimed, standing for another embrace. "How's your mom? Still fattening up the tourists with Italian food at the retreat?"
“Sofia’s good," the handsome twenty-something confirmed with a laugh. “And yes, though she's finally letting me experiment with the menu.” Alex turned to the petite attractive woman beside him. "This is my girlfriend, Nicole, a travel writer from the city.”
“Nice to meet you," Jess smiled, shaking hands, then introduced her friends. “You already know my beloved maid of honor of course, and these are my bridesmaids, Megan and Sloane."
Pleasantries were exchanged as their food arrived, heaping platters of golden-fried shrimp and overstuffed lobster rolls on buttered brioche buns. The aroma of fresh seafood and melted butter mingled with the salt air that drifted through the occasionally opened door.
"So," Skye said then, leaning in conspiratorially, "I hear you're getting married at The Harbor House. It looks amazing since the renovation."
"It's beautiful," Jess confirmed, studiously ignoring the flutter in her stomach at the mention of the venue - and by extension, its manager. "We're having a sunset ceremony on the terrace overlooking the water."
“Logan Calder did an incredible job with that place," Alex commented. ”Preserved all the history while making it functional for modern expectations. Not an easy balance."
At Logan's name, Jess felt Sloane’s eyes on her, but she kept her expression neutral. “It’s perfect," she agreed, taking a larger sip of her drink than intended.
As the girls dug into their food, Skye, Alex and his girlfriend eventually drifted away, promising to catch up again.
"I need another drink," Jess announced suddenly, pushing back from the table.
She moved with purpose toward the bar, weaving between dancing couples and groups of laughing islanders. A few called out greetings that she acknowledged with automatic waves, her focus narrowing to the simple task ahead: get drinks, return to table, continue pretending that being back here wasn't turning her inside out.
She was signaling to the bartender when she felt it - a presence beside her, the subtle shift in the air that preceded recognition. Jess turned, already knowing who she would find, and promptly collided with a broad chest coming from the opposite direction.
“Hello there,” Logan said, his hands steadying her shoulders, the touch sending unexpected heat through the thin fabric of her shirt. “We meet again."
30
Logan Calderin The Chicken Box was an entirely different creature from the polished hotel manager who had shown Jess around that morning.
The tailored shirt had been replaced by a faded Nantucket Boat Basin t-shirt that had seen better days, and his feet were in worn leather boat shoes rather than polished loafers. His hair was slightly mussed, as if he'd run his hands through it multiple times.
This Logan - relaxed, slightly rumpled, smiling with unguarded warmth and in such familiar surrounds - was achingly recognizable.
“Hey yourself,” she managed, stepping back from his touch with forced casualness. "Didn't expect to see you here.” He’d never been much of party guy, but then again, what did Jess know? It had been fifteen years after all.
"Finn is friends with the guys in the band," he explained, nodding toward the stage. “He dragged me out. Said I needed a night off."
Jess glanced toward the corner where Logan’s older brother stood talking with a group of locals, his easy stance andanimated gestures suggesting he was in the middle of a spirited debate.
"I was just ordering for the table," Jess said, then heard herself adding, "could you maybe help me carry them back?"
Logan signaled the bartender.. "Another round for bridal party, Mike. On my tab."
"You don't have to - " Jess began.
"Consider it a wedding gift," he interjected, the corner of his mouth lifting in that half-smile she remembered so well - the one that had always made her feel like they shared a secret joke no one else understood.
"How is Finn?" she asked, grasping for neutral conversation. "Still fixing everything that breaks on this island?"
"Everything and everyone," Logan confirmed with a genuine smile that creased his eyes. "Still has a savior complex the size of Great Point. Can't help himself."
The drinks arrived - four more fresh rum punches arranged on a weathered wooden tray. Logan lifted it with ease, nodding for Jess to lead the way back through the crowd. She felt the heat of his presence behind her as they navigated the packed floor, his height creating a wake that made their passage easier.
“More reinforcements," she announced, gesturing to Logan as he set down their drinks and she made introductions.
