Sweet Cravings

Chapter six – Burgers and Beginnings

Sebastian

Sebastian was still smiling as they walked away from the carousel, the boys and little Sky had ridden three horses all in a line, their laughter still ringing in his ears. And Bri’s smile—God, her smile could light up the darkest day.

When they’d climbed down, Zack and Alex each grabbed one of Sky’s hands, leading her toward the workshop with the solemnity of knights escorting a princess. “Daddy’s gonna carve something!” Zack announced proudly. “You’ll see!”

Bri’s friend laughed, falling into step beside him. “Looks like we’re joining your troop. Your boys have really taken a shine to our Sky.”

Sebastian chuckled, glancing at Bri. “Guess I should warn you—they’re relentless when they adopt someone.”

Her answering smile was soft, warm enough to make his chest tighten.

The group of six trooped across the park, weaving through stalls until they reached the woodworking tent. The scent of fresh-cut timber hit Sebastian like a memory—sharp, sweet, and achingly familiar. He stared at the workbench, heart thudding.

What if I can’t get it back? What if I fail?

A cheer broke his spiral. He glanced over to see his boys bouncing at the edge of the tent, fists pumping. “You can do it, Daddy!”

His gaze lifted—and found Bri watching him, her smile steady, like sunlight breaking through clouds. Something inside him shifted. He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and wrapped his fingers around the chisel.

And then he lost himself in the wood.

An hour vanished in a blink. When he finally set down his tools, his breath caught. A small bird perched on a branch stared back at him, its beak tilted skyward as if ready to burst into song. Imperfect, yes—but alive.

A hand landed on his shoulder. Eli bent down, eyes crinkling as he studied the carving. “It’s been a while since you let your talent out, hasn’t it, son?”

Sebastian nodded, throat tight.

“Raw talent’s rare,” Eli said, squeezing his shoulder. “But you’ve got it in spades. Whatever made you lose your way—give this another chance. That little bird isn’t perfect, but it’s got soul.”

As Eli moved on, Sebastian stared at the carving, Eli’s words echoing in his chest. For the first time in years, peace settled over him like a warm tide.

Bri

Bri watched him work, transfixed. His focus was absolute, brows drawn, tongue peeking at the corner of his mouth as the chisel danced. A small hand slipped into hers, and she looked down to find Alex gazing up at her, eyes wide.

“Daddy’s doing so good,” he whispered, awe soft in his voice.

Her heart melted. For the whole hour, all three children sat spellbound, watching Sebastian coax life from a block of wood. And Bri… she couldn’t look away either.

The sun was dipping low, painting Comfort Isle in shades of honey and rose. The Fayre was winding down, music fading to a gentle hum as families drifted toward home. Bri walked beside Gem, Sky skipping ahead with Zack and Alex, their laughter ringing like bells.

“Daddy, Sky wants burgers too!” Zack called over his shoulder, grinning like he’d just solved world peace.

Sebastian chuckled, falling into step beside Bri. “Looks like I’ve been volunteered.”

Gem smirked. “Well, if you’re buying, we’re not saying no.”

Bri shot her a look, but Gem only winked. “What? I’m hungry, and it is not often we get invited to dinner by three handsome men.”

Sebastian’s smile was easy, warm enough to make Bri’s stomach flutter. “There’s a place near the harbour—best burgers on the island. You in?”

Bri hesitated, pulse ticking faster. Gem answered for her. “Absolutely.”

The diner was a cozy nook tucked between a bait shop and an ice cream parlour, its windows glowing amber in the twilight. Inside, the air smelled of sizzling beef and sweet pie, laughter mingling with the clink of cutlery. A jukebox hummed softly in the corner, playing something old and sweet.

They slid into a booth—Sebastian and the boys on one side, Bri and Gem on the other, Sky squeezed between her new best friends like royalty. The table was a riot of crayons and menus, the kids debating toppings with the seriousness of diplomats.

“Extra cheese,” Alex declared.

“Pickles,” Zack countered.

“Sky want ketchup!” Sky announced, slapping her tiny palm on the table for emphasis.

Sebastian laughed, the sound rich and warm. “Ketchup it is, Princess.”

Bri’s heart did a strange flip. Watching him—easy, patient, his grey eyes crinkling when he smiled—felt like sunlight breaking through clouds she’d lived under for years.

Gem leaned in, voice low. “You’re staring.”

“I’m not,” Bri whispered, heat creeping up her neck.

Gem smirked. “You so are.”

Before Bri could retort, Sebastian glanced up, catching her gaze. For a moment, the diner faded—the chatter, the jukebox, even Gem’s smug grin. It was just him, storm-grey eyes steady, a question lingering in their depths.

The burgers arrived, breaking the spell. Plates piled high with golden fries, buns glistening under melted cheese. The kids dove in like pirates claiming treasure, laughter spilling across the table. Sebastian reached for the ketchup, his fingers brushing Bri’s as she did the same. A spark shot through her, sharp and sweet.

“Sorry,” he murmured, voice low.

“It’s fine,” she said, though her pulse was anything but.

Dinner was loud and messy and perfect—stories about school, knock-knock jokes that made no sense, Gem tossing sarcasm like confetti and Sebastian catching every piece with a grin. Bri laughed more than she had in years, the sound strange and wonderful in her own ears.

When the plates were cleared and the kids were sticky with ketchup and joy, they spilled out into the harbour night. Sky clung to Zack’s hand, Bun Bun tucked under her arm, while Alex skipped ahead, humming some tune only he knew.

Sebastian walked beside Bri, close enough that his arm brushed hers. “Thanks for joining us,” he said softly.

She glanced up, heart thudding. “Thanks for inviting us.”

His smile was slow, curling at the edges. “Maybe we should do it again.”

Bri swallowed hard, the words tangling in her throat. “Maybe,” she whispered.

And for the first time in years, maybe didn’t feel scary. It felt like hope.