Page 27 of Meet Me at Sunset Cove

Hunter frowned. “What’s that?”

“When do we start?” she asked, brushing her hair behind her ear again, suddenly shy. “I mean, do we walk into town hand in hand, or are we more of a zero PDA kind of couple? Or do you not want the town to know? Any of which are fine with me. It’s your engagement…” Her words drifted off as she glanced back up at him.

The balls of her cheeks grew pink the longer she spoke. He’d almost forgotten that endearing way she rambled when she was nervous.

Hunter grimaced, running a hand over the back of his neck. “Right. I guess we should probably get on the same page.” He glanced toward the town, splayed out at the bottom of the hill. This was a terrible idea. A terrible, horrible idea. But he couldn’t lose the house. He wouldn’t abandon it. Might as well rip the Band-Aid off. “Let’s start today. Now.”

“Now?” Daisy’s eyes shot up. “Don’t you think we should plan this out a little more?”

“I think if I plan this out, I’ll come to my senses.” Hunter sucked in a breath. “We start now.”

* * *

Daisy hadn’t really expected the charade of their engagement to startimmediately. After all, any sane person would assume they would ease into it. Drop some hints around town. Introduce her to his family, make a whole whirlwind romance escapade out of it. It would take planning to get it right. To make people believe in their love story.

So when Hunter’s fingertips slid into the space of her palm, curling between her fingers with ease as they reached the outskirts of town, she’d tried, and failed, not to flinch in surprise.

“Relax,” he said gruffly, nodding toward one of the houses lining the street, and more specifically, the older woman flitting around her front yard, raking leaves into neat little piles.

“What are you doing?” she hissed through smiling teeth.

Hunter tilted his head close to Daisy’s, his voice dropping low. “Martha Kelley. Owner of Martha’s on Main and all-around busybody. We want people to start talking about us? She’ll get the rumor mill going.”

Daisy’s eyes widened as they passed the woman. She’d eaten at Martha’s several times already, but apparently their paths had simply missed each other. The woman paused her raking, her eyes pausing on their clasped hands. Her gaze narrowed, like a hawk zeroing in on its prey.

“Afternoon, Martha,” Hunter called, raising his unoccupied hand to wave at her.

Martha blinked without response and then scurried off into the house, taking her rake in with her.

“Oh yeah, that’ll get the job done,” Hunter said, a smug smirk tugging at his lips. He quickly dropped her hand, and the cold rushed in to take its place.

At midday, the sun shone brightly over the town, making the colorful awnings pop as she and Hunter strolled down Main Street. It really was a storybook town.The American dream: Island Edition. Daisy found herself craning over her shoulder to examine the colorful storefronts while trying to keep up with Hunter’s long strides.

“So, the town really gave away those storefronts along with every dollar house?” she asked as they passed an adorable little studio with yellow-striped walls and a For Lease sign in the window.

Hunter shot her a glance over his shoulder. “Yeah.”

“It’s a brave move, that’s for sure,” she said as they passed a grayish-colored horse parked outside the Jonathon Island Bank, flicking its white tail lazily down its legs. “Where’s yours?”

“My horse?” He asked, his brows pulling together.

“Your storefront. You’re a contractor, right?”

“It’s on the mainland.” Hunter pointed toward the lake. “We don’t do business on the island.” The way he said it made her wonder if that was a policy…or a choice.

“Why’s that?”

Hunter sighed, his jaw tightening. “We don’t have to talk, you know.”

Daisy grinned, undeterred. “Ah, but then how will I get to know my”—she dropped her voice into a whisper—“fake fiancé?”

Rolling his eyes, he shot her a sideways glance. “You already know me.”

“Correction,” she said, skipping a little to catch up to him. “Ididknow you. But that was another time. Another version of whateveryouthis is.”

Hunter’s lips pulled into a tight line as they crossed the street. “The company policy is to focus on mainland projects,” he replied, a hint of frustration in his voice. “They’re less risky and more cost-effective.”

“Hmm,” Daisy mused. “Is that why you’re so charming? Saving all that personality for your fancy mainland clients?”

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