Sweet Cravings

Chapter five – Sunlight and Salt

Bri

Morning light spilled through the lace curtains, painting the room in soft gold. Bri stretched, listening to the distant cry of gulls and the rhythmic hush of waves against the rocks. Comfort Isle felt like a dream—one she wasn’t ready to wake from.

Sky was already awake, perched on the window seat with Bun Bun clutched tight, nose pressed to the glass. “Mawnin’, Mama,” she whispered.

Bri smiled, heart swelling. “Morning, baby.” She smoothed Sky’s curls and glanced at Gem, sprawled across her bed like a queen in exile, muttering something about coffee and civilization.

“Breakfast,” Bri announced, tugging on a soft sweater. “Come on, Gem—Margaret promised scones.”

Gem groaned but rolled out of bed, hair a wild halo. Sky skipped ahead, giggles echoing down the hall as she made a beeline for the toy basket. Bri followed, savouring the scent drifting from the kitchen—warm bread, butter, and something sweet. It wrapped around her like a hug.

She rounded the corner—and collided with solid wall.

“Oh!” Flyers scattered like startled birds. Strong hands caught her before she stumbled, firm yet gentle. Her breath hitched.

“I’m so sorry,” a deep voice said, smooth as glass. She looked up—and froze.

Sunlight framed him, catching in dark hair and sharp cheekbones. His eyes—storm-gray and startlingly gentle—locked on hers. For a heartbeat, the hallway narrowed to just the two of them.

“It’s… okay,” she managed, clutching the papers to her chest. Her pulse thudded like a drum.

He smiled—slow, easy, curling at the edges. “Guess we both need coffee.”

Her lips curved before she could stop them. “Guess so.”

“Breakfast?” Margaret’s voice floated from the dining room, breaking the spell. Sky darted past, Bun Bun bouncing in her arms, and Gem followed with a curious glance. Bri stepped aside, heart still racing, and watched him walk away—broad shoulders, easy stride, two little boys trailing behind like bright sparks.

The dining room was bathed in morning light. Several farmhouse tables stretched across the room, set with china plates and baskets of warm scones that smelled like heaven. Margaret moved gracefully between guests, pouring coffee and offering jam in little glass pots.

Bri guided Sky to a chair near the window, where the ocean glittered beyond the garden. Sky climbed up eagerly, Bun Bun perched beside her like an honoured guest. Gem slid into the seat opposite, already eyeing the scones like they were diamonds.

“Bri,” Gem whispered, leaning in as Margaret bustled away. “Who was that guy you nearly flattened in the hall?”

Heat crept up Bri’s neck. “Just… another guest, I think,” she murmured, reaching for the teapot like it was a lifeline.

Gem’s grin was wicked. “Someone tall, dark, and ridiculously handsome, you mean?”

Bri shot her a look, but Gem was relentless. “And did you see those eyes? Stormy grey. Like a romance novel cover.”

“Gem,” Bri hissed, but her friend only smirked and buttered a scone with exaggerated elegance.

Before Bri could retort, movement caught her eye. He was there—sitting across the room, two little boys chattering excitedly to him, their laughter bright and unrestrained. Her breath hitched.

He looked relaxed, like someone carved from sunlight and shadows. His shirt was simple, sleeves rolled to his forearms, but it did nothing to hide the strength in his frame. The boys were talking about lighthouses and cookies, and he listened with an easy smile that made Bri’s pulse skip.

Margaret greeted him warmly. “Good morning, Sebastian, Zack, and Alex. Did you sleep well?”

Bri tried not to stare, but her eyes betrayed her, tracing the curve of his jaw, the way his hand rested lightly on the back of a chair as he smiled at Margaret. “We had a perfect night, thank you. You have a wonderful inn.”

The low timber of his voice sent a shiver down her spine; heat rushed through her belly. Gem’s voice was a low hum of amusement. “Oh, Bri. He’s got kids. And dimples. You’re doomed.”

Bri tore her gaze away, focusing on Sky, who was happily smearing jam across her toast. “I’m not doomed,” she muttered, though her heart thudded like a drum.

“hum, don’t look now but dark and dreamy can’t take his eyes off you.”

She couldn’t help herself and risked another glance, their eyes met across the room, a flicker of something hot, sparking like sunlight on water. He smiled—small, warm, and devastatingly perfect. Bri felt something shift inside her, something she hadn’t felt in years, her breath caught in her throat, as parts of her body seemed to flare to life.

Gem nudged her under the table. “Yep,” she whispered. “Totally doomed.”

After breakfast, they wandered through the now-familiar streets. Orchard Park was already bustling with activity—stalls spilling across the green, bright bunting fluttering in the breeze. The scent of caramel and sea salt mingled with laughter and music from the bandstand.

Sky bounced on the balls of her feet, overwhelmed by choices. “Mama, look!” She tugged Bri toward a stall lined with wooden toys—boats, trains, puzzles, each piece polished to a soft glow. Sky touched a wooden bunny, eyes wide. She held Bun Bun up to meet its painted twin. “Look, Bun Bun—it’s a bunny wike you!”

Gem grinned, handing her card to the vendor. “Wrap it up,” she said, winking at Bri.

Bri gazed around the stall—and froze when her eyes met a familiar storm-gray. He was there, leaning casually against the counter, a smirk tugging at his mouth. He gave a small nod, and Bri’s stomach flipped.

“Hey, Bri?” Gem’s voice yanked her back. She grimaced as Gem wiped her mouth with a tissue. “Sorry, you had a little drool there.”

Bri punched her friend’s arm, making Gem roar with laughter. “One of these days, Gemima Suzanne…”

With one last glance at the man who had her heart racing and her lady parts reacting for the first time in three years, Bri turned toward the centre of the Fayre, pulling a laughing Gem with her.

They played games, sampled treats, and then Sky spotted the carousel. “Mama, horsies? Pwease?” Her pout melted Bri’s heart. “Okay, baby—let’s go ride the horsies.”

They joined the line, Bri smiling at the other children waiting their turn. Sky tugged on her hand, then darted forward, pulling on a jean-clad leg. “Up, up, mwister! Sky wanna see horsies!”

Bri spun, mortified. “Oh, baby, no—Mama will lift you.” She reached for Sky, then froze as her gaze collided with storm-gray eyes.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice warm, steady. “I can lift the princess.” And before Bri could protest, Sky squealed as he swung her up, settling her on his broad shoulders like she belonged there.

In the excitement, Bun Bun tumbled to the ground. Sky gasped. “Oh no—Bun Bun!”

One of the twins bent down, scooping up the bunny with a grin. “It’s okay. I’ll keep her safe. Look—she’s already friends with Dino.” He made the stuffed toys dance together, Sky giggling from her perch high above the crowd.

He grinned down at her and held out his hand, “Hi I'm Sebastian.” She slowly took his hand, “Bri, my name is Bri.”

Bri’s breath hitched. Heat curled low in her stomach, holy sh*it one touch and I'm ready to cream my pants. What is wrong with me? Get a grip, Bri.