Sweet Cravings

Chapter Four – Echoes by the Sea

Sebastian

The boys had been counting down the days—X’s on the calendar, paper chains snipped shorter each morning. By Friday, Sebastian was just as eager. Comfort Isle wasn’t just a vacation; it was a chance to breathe, to step away from the glass towers and endless meetings, and maybe—just maybe—find the part of himself he’d buried years ago.

He loaded the last bag into the SUV, grinning as Zack and Alex bounced on the sidewalk like coiled springs. “Okay, team,” he said, crouching to their level. “Adventure mode—activated.”

“ADVENTURE!” Alex shouted, arms flung wide. Zack echoed him, clutching his stuffed dinosaur like a talisman. Fae chuckled from the doorway, her cardigan slipping off one shoulder. “You’d think they were heading to the moon,” she teased.

Sebastian smiled. “Feels like it.”

The ferry ride was pure chaos—wind whipping hair into tangles, gulls wheeling overhead, the boys pressed against the railing with eyes wide as saucers. Comfort Isle shimmered in the distance, a jewel set in blue. Sebastian inhaled deeply, tasting salt and freedom. For the first time in months, his chest didn’t feel like a locked box.

By the time they pulled up to Harbor Haven Bed & Breakfast, the sun was sliding low, painting the lighthouse in molten gold. The boys went silent for a beat, awe softening their chatter.

“Dad,” Zack whispered, tugging his sleeve. “It’s a real lighthouse.”

Sebastian ruffled his hair. “Told you. Pretty cool, huh?”

The Victorian house stood proud, its blue shutters framed by baskets of pink flowers. Waves whispered beyond the garden. He felt something loosen inside him—a knot he hadn’t realized was there.

Margaret greeted them at the door, apron dusted with flour, smile warm. “You must be Sebastian—and these handsome young men are?” Zack puffed out his chest, “I’m Zack and he’s Alex. She bent to shake their hands like they were dignitaries. “Welcome to Harbor Haven. You’re just in time for cookies.”

The boys whooped, racing toward the kitchen. Sebastian laughed, following with their bags. The house was a cozy dream—polished wood floors, lace curtains fluttering, the faint aroma of lemon and sugar drifting through the air. Through the back windows, the lighthouse rose like a sentinel, its lantern room gleaming against the twilight sky.

Their room was perfect—two twin beds for the boys, a plush armchair by the window, and a view of the ocean that stole his breath. He stood there for a long moment, watching waves curl against the rocks, listening to the distant cry of gulls.

“Dad!” Zack’s voice yanked him back. “Can we climb the lighthouse tomorrow?”

Sebastian smiled. “Tomorrow is the summer fayre, but Sunday we can.”

Morning came bright and clear, sunlight spilling across the quilted bedspreads. The boys were up before dawn, bouncing like rubber balls. Sebastian dressed quickly, smoothing his T-shirt, running a hand through his hair. He felt… lighter. Like the island had peeled something heavy off his shoulders overnight.

“Breakfast,” he announced, and they barrelled down the hall ahead of him, voices echoing like bells.

He rounded the corner—and collided with someone.

“Oh!” A soft gasp. A flutter of papers. Sebastian reached instinctively, steadying her before she fell. Warm skin beneath his hands, the faint scent of vanilla and coffee.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, voice low, steadying her as she looked up.

And then he saw her.

Sunlight framed her face, catching in waves of chestnut hair. Her eyes—wide, startled, the colour of warm honey—met his, and for a heartbeat, the world narrowed to that single point of connection.

She blinked, lips parting. “It’s… okay,” she murmured, clutching the papers to her chest.

Sebastian stepped back, pulse ticking faster than it had in years. “Guess we both need coffee,” he said, a smile tugging at his mouth.

Her answering smile was small, hesitant—but it reached her eyes.

“Breakfast?” Margaret’s voice floated from the dining room, breaking the spell. The boys thundered past, oblivious, and Sebastian followed, but not before glancing back once.

She was still standing there, sunlight painting her like something out of a dream.

All through breakfast, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her, she had joined a table with another woman and a little girl, maybe a year younger than his boys. Every now and then their eyes would meet and a blush would rise on her cheeks, making him grin.

The Orchard Summer Fayre was everything the boys had dreamed of—bright stalls spilling over with candy-coloured ribbons, the scent of caramel and sea salt drifting through the air, laughter ringing like bells. Music floated from the bandstand, mingling with the cries of gull's overhead. Comfort Isle felt alive, pulsing with warmth and colour.

Sebastian walked between the stalls, Zack tugging his left hand, Alex his right, both chattering about the lighthouse climb tomorrow and the promise of ice cream today. He smiled, letting their excitement wash over him. For the first time in years, he wasn’t thinking about quarterly reports or board meetings. He was just… here. Present.

“Dad! Look!” Zack pointed toward a stall stacked high with wooden toys—boats, trains, puzzles, each piece polished to a soft glow. A sign read: Carpentry Workshop with Eli Turner – Today at 2 PM.

Sebastian’s pulse kicked. Sawdust. Timber. The scent of varnish ghosted through his memory, sharp and sweet. He swallowed hard, fingers tightening around Zack’s. “We’ll check it out,” he said, voice low.

They wandered closer, and that’s when he saw her.

She was standing near a stall draped in pastel bunting, her daughter perched on her hip, the other woman beside her laughing at something the vendor said. Sunlight caught in her hair, turning it to molten chestnut, and for a moment, Sebastian forgot how to breathe.

Bri.

He heard Margret call her that at breakfast, and it fit her—soft, strong, like the earth after rain. She wore a simple sundress, pale blue that echoed the sky, and when she laughed at something the toddler said, the sound curled through him like music.

He should look away. He didn’t.

Her gaze lifted—and collided with his.

And just like it had in the hallway that morning, the world seemed to slow down. Her lips parted, surprise flickering across her face, then something else—something that made his chest and pants tighten.

He smiled before he could stop himself. Small. Warm. A question hidden in the curve.

She hesitated, then smiled back—quick, shy, like sunlight breaking through clouds.

“Dad!” Alex tugged his sleeve, oblivious. “Can we get the boat? Please?”

Sebastian tore his gaze away, forcing a breath. “Yeah, buddy. Let’s pick one.”

But as he handed over cash and listened to Eli talk about the workshop, his mind wasn’t on the toys. It was on her—the woman with eyes like prairie skies and a smile that felt like a door opening