Page 12 of Meet Me at Sunset Cove

“Really.”

“Because I just talked to a realtor who said some guy namedJoewas selling it. Last time I checked, your name’s not Joe.” Her hair swished behind her as she tilted her head in mock confusion.

Hunter let out a growl of frustration. “Joe is my dad, and it’s not his house to sell.”

At that, Daisy blinked, doubt sinking into that ever-present light in her eyes.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He started toward the door. “I need to make the next ferry. I’d say it was nice seeing you again, but…”

He’d made it nearly to the door when the sound of her soft footsteps pattered after him. “Hold on! Hunter, wait!”

He stepped out onto the porch and continued down the path. The sooner he could put this whole thing behind him, the better.

“Hunter!”

Daisy caught up to him at the street, her hand hooking his elbow. “Please, just hear me out.”

Against his better judgment, he stopped, his jaw pulsing as he turned toward her.

Winded, Daisy looked as though she’d run a marathon somewhere between the house and the street. The long hair that framed her face was swept back, showing off the flush in her cheeks. “Sheesh, you’re fast,” she said, dropping her hands to her knees as she sucked in another breath.

Hunter gave her his best apathetic expression. “What?”

Rising back to her full five foot three, she pasted on that Daisy Decker smile. “I’m sorry about trespassing. I don’t have an excuse except that it’s a gorgeous house and I am so in love with it.” Her words came out in a breathless string as she grinned, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear in that familiar way that he’d only just managed to forget. “But I don’t need to buy the house. I just want to remodel it. Restore it.”

Change it, she meant. Hunter could read between the lines. This was his home. His family. No way.

Drawing in every ounce of his patience, he stepped into her space.

“Understand this, Daisy.” He ducked his head to meet her eyes as he enunciated every word. “You. are. never. touching. that house.”

Daisy blinked, her doe eyes wide as her lips parted in surprise.

Hunter straightened, satisfied his words were sinking in.

“I don’t remember you being this much of a grouch!” she shouted as he turned, leaving her behind.

“That’s funny. I hardly remember you at all,” he lied over his shoulder as he stomped back down the hill.

ChapterThree

For a day that had started so well, it hadn’t taken long for things to spin out of control. The morning’s events were still replaying in his head as Hunter pulled into the parking lot of Barrett Construction in Port Joseph, having picked up his car from long-term parking near the ferry. He didn’t know what to be more upset about…His mother’s unsolicited wedding invite, his father trying to sell the family home, or the reappearance of the woman he’d spent years trying to forget.

He gathered himself and stepped out of the truck, carrying his jacket. This far onto the mainland, the air off the lake didn’t quite have the same chilling effect that kept the island a good ten degrees cooler year-round.

Hunter pushed through the glass doors, the familiar scent of coffee and sawdust doing little to calm his frayed nerves as he made his way toward his dad’s office.

“Morning, Hunter,” Dawn said, catching Hunter’s attention from behind the administration desk with a hand over the receiver of her phone. Her desk was piled high with forms and notes, a coffee cup sat forgotten beside the computer with a sticky note scribbled on in teal ink. She grabbed a stack of files and plopped them down on top of the reception desk. “Can you look at these when you get a chance?”

“Will do,” Hunter said, sliding the pile into his palm. He nodded toward the scattered mess on her desk. “That kind of day already, it seems.” Good to know it wasn’t just him.

Dawn shoved out a breath. “Where do I start?” She rolled her eyes dramatically.

“I’ve been on hold all morning with the permit office. The inspection for the Wilkinsons’ project has been rescheduled?—”

“What—why?” Hunter flipped through the pile with furrowed brows.

Dawn shook her head. “Your father stopped by and noticed that the window trim was half an inch wider than the approved specs.” Of course he did. “Then there’s the issue with the supplier for the Morton renovation. They’re saying the order is delayed by at least three weeks because of some custom moldings we ordered?”

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