“Smart kid,” Claire teased. She glanced toward the fire, where Chloe and Gabe sat together, eagerly roasting marshmallows, their laughter intertwining with the waves crashing nearby. “Being a single parent comes with a lot of negotiation tactics, doesn’t it?”
Jack followed her gaze, his expression softening slightly. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s a constant balancing act.”
Claire smiled, sensing the shift in his demeanor. “Tell me about it. I once spent an entire afternoon in a superhero costume just to get Gabe to eat his vegetables.”
Jack let out a low chuckle, the sound deep and unexpectedly warm. Claire watched, intrigued by the way his shoulders loosened, just a fraction, as if shedding a small weight he hadn’t realized he was carrying. His eyes, usually guarded, softened for a brief moment, and she caught the flicker of something unspoken beneath his reserved demeanor.
It surprised her—how different he looked when he allowed even a sliver of lightness to seep through. If only for a moment, he wasn’t just the closed-off man keeping the world at arm’s length; he was someone capable of letting joy in. “I don’t believe you.”
Claire grinned. “Oh, it happened. There are pictures—blackmail-worthy ones, even. My dignity never stood a chance against broccoli.”
Jack shook his head, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly. “That’s impressive commitment.”
“What can I say? Parenthood is a performance art.”
Their laughter blended into the night, and for a moment, Jack seemed at ease, the weight he carried momentarily lifting. Claire felt an unexpected warmth spread through her, not just from the fire but from the realization that she had cracked through his walls, even if only slightly.
It was more than a fleeting moment—it was proof that connection was still possible, even for someone as closed-off as Jack. And maybe, just maybe, it was proof for her too. After everything she'd rebuilt in Seaview, the idea of reaching someone else, of helping him step into something lighter, felt like reclaiming a piece of herself she'd quietly feared was lost forever.
It made her wonder—was Jack’s solitude something he truly wanted, or just something he had resigned himself to? That brief glimpse of him unguarded, genuinely laughing, stirred something deep within her. She wanted to see that again. No, she wanted to be the reason for it.
The way his face had softened, even for just a moment, had stirred something in her—a quiet realization that beneath the guarded exterior was a man who had once known joy, who might even want to find it again. And that made her wonder: was he pushing the world away, or just waiting for someone willing to push back?
Sensing an opportunity, Claire gently placed a hand on his arm. “Come on, let me introduce you to some people.”
Jack hesitated, but after a beat, he nodded. Claire led him toward a small group gathered near the fire, seamlessly easing him into the conversation. Jack’s steps were hesitant at first, his jaw tight, hands briefly clenching before he forced them to relax.
Claire noticed the way his gaze flickered toward the ground, as if resisting the urge to retreat. But as introductions were made, she saw the subtle shifts—his shoulders dropping ever so slightly, his stance loosening, his replies becoming just a touch more natural.
She introduced him to Olivia, the owner of the local bakery, who immediately welcomed him with an offer to bring Chloe by for fresh pastries.
Next was Wally, the retired fisherman who always had a story to tell. Jack offered small, measured responses, his initial stiffness gradually loosening as Wally regaled him with tales of Seaview Harbor’s history.
When Wally dramatically described reeling in a fish “as big as a rowboat,” Jack actually laughed—softly, but genuinely—and the sound surprised even him.
A few more introductions followed—kind, welcoming people who made it easy for Jack to simply listen, respond when necessary, and avoid the pressure of carrying the conversation himself.
Claire watched the transformation unfold in slow, deliberate steps. Jack’s shoulders loosened a little, his answers came with a hint less reserve, and when Olivia teased Wally about his exaggerated fishing stories, Jack let out a quiet chuckle. It wasn’t much, but for a man so deeply walled off, it was a meaningful shift.
She noted the rare curve of his lips as he exchanged pleasantries, the way his posture eased ever so slightly, as if the weight he carried had lightened just a fraction. It was a small change, barely noticeable to anyone else, but to Claire, it felt significant.
As the evening wound down, Claire gathered Gabe, watching as Jack did the same with Chloe. Their eyes met briefly, and in that fleeting moment, she saw it—the briefest glimpse of something unguarded, something real beneath Jack’s carefully controlled exterior.
As she walked away, Gabe chattering beside her, Claire found herself unable to shake the image of that fleeting smile, the hint of warmth hidden beneath Jack’s reserve. She had seen glimpses of something more, something buried under years of solitude. And now, she couldn’t help but wonder—was she imagining it, or did Jack Montgomery, for all his gruffness, want to be found?
And she knew, without a doubt, that she wanted to see it again. More than that, she wanted to be the one to bring it out of him—not just once, but over and over, until that warmth wasn’t a flicker but a steady flame.
Maybe Jack didn’t realize it yet, but Claire was already dreaming up ways to gently widen the walls around his world. This felt like the start of something, and she planned to be there for every step as the next layer peeled back, even if he didn’t know he was ready for it.
Chapter Five
Jack
Thesoftchimeofan incoming email cut through the warm hush of the beach house, nudging Jack out of his thoughts like a pebble dropped into still water. Jack sat at his makeshift workstation—his laptop perched on the dining table, medical reports stacked in neat piles around him.
The setting felt worlds apart from the sleek, high-rise office where he'd once commanded a surgical empire, a place where people catered to his schedule, his decisions carried weight, and his bank account gave him the ability to walk away from the chaos whenever he wanted.
Except, he hadn’t walked away—not really. No amount of money or professional prestige could erase the burdens he carried, nor could it make fatherhood any easier. The contrast between his former life and this new existence on the island was jarring, and despite his best efforts, he wasn’t sure which version of himself fit anymore.
