Page 95 of Merritt and Her Childhood Crush
“Ben, you own Oakley Island, right?”
“You own this whole island?” Liam practically shouts.
“Yes.” I didn’t think Benedict King could look uncomfortable, but as he shifts from one expensive boat shoe to the other, he actually looks a bit embarrassed. “My mom passed full ownership on to me five years ago.”
His neck flushes pink. Definitely embarrassed—which is kind of endearing.
“How can a person own an island?” Liam still looks flabbergasted. “Does that make you our landlord? Mom hates our landlord and says he’s a—” Abruptly, Liam stops, then whispers, “I’m not supposed to repeat the word.”
Ben grins, returning to his easy, playboy charm. “I guess I’m sort of like the landlord—hopefully not one your mom would call names you’re not supposed to repeat. People own their land, but there is a yearly maintenance fee and the historic preservation society—this is all very boring stuff.”
“I’m actuallyveryinterested,” I say. “Specifically in any open retail spaces. Is that something you handle?”
Understanding lights his green eyes. “It is. And it’s funny you should ask. The dog grooming place at the other end of Main Street just let me know they’re relocating to Savannah. It’s a hard space to fill though. Double the size of most of the places on Main Street.”
“That sounds perfect, actually.” I think of the size of the tabletops hanging in Hunter’s workshop.
My eyes drop to Liam. Knowing how much he’s already toldmeabout the other adults in his life, I don’t really want to ask any follow-up questions while he’s listening. There aren’t enough degrees of separation between Liam and Hunter for me to trust my questions wouldn’t get back to him. And there are too many loose ends for me to iron out before I even letmyselfget excited about this idea, much less get Hunter excited about it.
Back then, we dreamed of ways to work together on the island. We talked about building a future. This would be one way to do that—even if Hunter doesn’t want to sell his tables, this could work. This could bemywork.
For the first time since I quit my job, I’m actually excited about something work-related.
“Can I email or call you?” I ask Ben. “Maybe at a better time?”
He nods knowingly, glancing at Liam. “Sure thing. Jake knows how to reach me. And let me know next time your other sister is in town. We didn’t finish our argument last time she was here.”
I get the very distinct sense he’s not just interested in finishing anargument. But whatever. Sadie is the sister I don’t need to worry about. She’d eat Ben for breakfast and then spit out his bones by lunch. Probably end up owning half the island in the process.
As Liam and I finally make it to Jake’s, I find myself smiling, wondering if maybe, in the end, all three of us—Eloise, Sadie, and me—will end up calling Oakley home.
TWENTY-ONE
Hunter
I’m a humble man.A man with simple wants. Simple needs. Simple life.
But when it comes to feelings—having them, having to talk about them—I am an absoluteking. The king of avoidance, that is.
Deciding to do practical but not fully necessary updates underneath Genevieve’s house this week helped me avoid dealing with my current emotional turmoil. No way was Merritt going to wiggle under there with me.
Conveniently, when I’m not at work, Isabelle’s constant presence makes it impossible for me to think too hard or have a conversation alone with Merritt. And as long as we aren’t having any conversations—will she stay, does she want me, will she ever want a family—I can muddle along in blissful ignorance.
So why don’t I feel blissful?
I heave my ax overhead and swing it down onto the waiting log like it’s personal.Okay.Maybenot-so-blissfulignorance.
As for Merritt, at this exact moment, she seems determined to sit on my porch, waiting out both Isabelle’s bedtimeandmy avoidance.
It’s why I’m chopping firewood—a task I won’t technically need to do for at least another month or two. It means I don’t need to talk. I can just grunt.
And if doing it shirtless means Merritt gets an eyeful, well, that can’t exactly hurt my cause. It’s not like I think my muscles are enough to make her stay.
But they certainly won’thurt.
Isabelle has been explaining some school drama for what seems like an hour. “And then she said I took her stickers, but she’s just jealous because hers don’t glow in the dark.”
“Wow. I had no idea stickers were so complicated,” Merritt says, but she sounds like she’s hardly paying attention to her own words.
