Page 38 of Meet Me at Sunset Cove

But even with the seemingly endless cycle, she would rise and do it all again. Because the result was an overwhelming success. And every day, their subscriber count grew exponentially. People loved the show. They loved Hunter. They loved her.

And best of all, they’d overwhelmingly stopped asking about Logan.

Daisy had tried her best not to check up on Logan’s socials. But she was only human. She’d spotted a few self-congratulatory posts referencing another good year forDouble Decker. The posts had showed him alone, beside the last project they’d worked together, Logan holding a hammer. It was laughable. He’d become less and less involved in the actual renovation every season since they’d started. And there he was, taking the credit.

No, Daisy was better off not knowing. She’d keep her head down and come out ahead.

Her phone vibrated and Daisy picked it up quickly, half hoping to see Hunter’s name on the caller ID.

“Hey,” she said, answering the video call.

Robin’s face appeared on the screen, her short blonde hair framing her eyes. “I don’t know about you, but I think I might be in love with your fake fiancé.”

“Ha, you and every other woman in the Midwest, apparently,” Daisy said, aiming for playful and missing the mark somewhere around…jealous? Oh, that couldn’t be right. She’d put out the flame for Hunter years ago. Right after he stole her heart and then ghosted her…

Robin cut into her thoughts. “Listen, there’s something I want to run by you.”

Daisy frowned, her curiosity piqued. “Okay?”

“Do you think you could get Mr. Tall, Dark, and Serious to let you renovate that sunroom?”

Daisy’s mind flashed to the way he’d closed that door. The way he’d reacted when he’d found her there that first day. “I don’t know…Why?”

“Because we’re going to submit the house for theHOMENew Year’s Virtual Parade of Houses,” Robin said excitedly. “They’ve got a big contest going, with voting by fans. The winner gets featured in the January issue, as well as a large sum of money toward renovations, which I think could be a big step up for us.”

Daisy perked up. “That would be huge!” She was already nearing the end of her savings and was not looking forward to the idea of taking out a line of credit. Winning that contest could be exactly what they needed to be back on top.

“I know!” Robin grinned into the screen. Behind her, the LA skyline was growing dark, tones of gold and red fading into blue. It was a beautiful sunset.

Daisy had missed those sunsets.

Her gaze drifted out the window, toward the stars reflecting off the lake. There was something to be said for starry nights too.

“Okay, so, we’ll have to submit photos by December tenth. The contest will run through that whole month, so don’t break off your engagement until you’ve at least finished the foyer and stairs…And if you can get that sunroom done, I really think it will set us apart.”

“Noted,” she said, giving her friend adon’t push itlook. Except that’s exactly what she wanted to do. Daisy hung up the call and immediately pulled out her notebook, sketching the sunroom from memory.

* * *

There had to be a way out. Hunter’s fingers threaded through his hair as he leaned over the Barrett Family Living Trust documents, going through them again. His eyes strained as he read the same line again, the letters seeming to blur the longer he looked at them. He pressed his thumb to his lips, wetting it slightly before turning the page.

“…the oldest generation acting as trustees…” He leaned back, stretching his back as he closed his eyes in thought. From what he’d learned, a trustee might be able to go through a legal process to change a trust. But seeing as his dad had made it abundantly clear they’d be selling the house if Hunter and Daisy’s wedding fell through, there wasn’t much chance that his dad would be willing to change the trust. It seemed his dad, like everyone else, had given in to the idea that the house wasn’t worth saving. Fat load of help having the oldest gen—realization dawned on him and Hunter shot up, flipping through the pages again.

“It’s not Dad,” he muttered, smacking himself in the forehead. “It’s Grandpa.”

Hunter didn’t have to think much for a plan to formulate inside his head. In a few short weeks, Hunter’s grandfather would arrive for his annual Thanksgiving visit. Hunter just had to get him alone, tell him how much he wanted to preserve the house, to continue the tradition of passing it down, but he couldn’t do that if some rich yuppies bought it and made it a summer home. The house was meant to be filled and loved.

It was part of the family, and he wouldn’t abandon it.

It was worth the effort to save.

His grandpa would understand.

Hunter’s phone pinged, a text from Daisy, no doubt wondering when he’d get back to the house. They had plans to start in on the foyer. He tapped his screen and the clock showed 5:00 p.m.

Perfect timing.

He reached for his jacket and headed for the door.

---