Page 11 of Meet Me at Sunset Cove (Jonathon Island #5)

Chapter Five

H unter glanced at his phone for about the tenth time and slumped back against the old oak door, pulling his knees up to rest his elbows on them.

She wasn’t coming.

He ran a hand through his hair, hanging his head between his arms. What had he expected? That she’d just show up after the way he treated her?

He exhaled a heavy breath.

The crunch of leaves on the road and footsteps in the grass caught his attention, and Hunter lifted his head.

Daisy Decker.

She was picking her way across the lawn. She wore a brown flannel over a matching brown shirt. Her black leggings, which were tucked into high tan socks and boots, caught against every bush, collecting burrs as she shimmied sideways down the path.

Rising to his feet, Hunter strode forward and leaned against the wooden post supporting the awning, watching her fight against a waist-high thistle that had caught on her.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” he said, his tone carefully neutral.

Her gaze lifted and she stopped, her doe eyes wide. “I am so sorry. My phone was dead. I went to charge it at the coffee place and then I got caught up in conversation?—”

Hunter raised a hand, stopping the long string of explanation. “It’s fine.”

Daisy searched his eyes and then, as though accepting the statement, she released a breath. She finished picking her way through the grass and stopped at the bottom step of the landing. Her hands flitted nervously over her sleeves, pulling the cuffs down to her fingertips.

“Beautiful day for a”—she glanced toward the hill, still slightly breathless—“nice brisk hike?—”

“Daisy?” He cut in.

“Yeah?” Her gaze snapped back to him, brows raised.

“I don’t want to talk about the weather with you.”

“Right.”

He shouldered away from the post and stepped down the few steps between them. “In case you’ve forgotten, you proposed to me last night.”

“Yeah.” She laughed, dropping her gaze as she swept her hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me. I swear I’m not a nut…”

Hunter rolled his eyes, cutting to the point. “What’s the catch?”

And the doe eyes were back. Wide and blue and beautiful. “The catch?”

“Yeah.” He stepped down another step, ducking his head to meet her. “We get engaged. I get the house. What do you get?”

Daisy’s face flushed, embarrassment creeping into her cheeks. “Right. The catch.”

Hunter nodded. Raised an eyebrow. Waited.

She licked her lips, eyes darting to the house. “I…need a house to renovate.”

Hunter’s jaw ticked. Of course. He crossed his arms over his chest. “There it is.”

“So I can start up my YouTube channel again.”

Hunter scoffed, closing his eyes as he shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

“And I’d like you to be my contractor on the channel.”

His eyes snapped back to her. “Excuse me?”

“Look!” She scrambled up the step, pulling out her pink-and-blue phone and tapping the screen.

“These are the comments from the livestream the other day.” She turned the screen toward him, scrolling through pages of swooning comments.

Hunter struggled to wrap his head around what he was reading.

The number of hearts and flame emojis were…

unnerving to say the least. “They loved you. I don’t think I’ve ever had this kind of engagement.

Even at the height of my YouTube career. ”

He stepped back, leaning on the handrail. “You want me to costar?”

Daisy grinned, a bright laugh bubbling out. “No. Just cameo.”

He relaxed an ounce.

“You’ll show up once an episode, let the viewers see what you’re up to.” She shrugged. “Flash a little muscle.”

Hunter’s brows shot up. “Flash a little mus?—”

“Flirt a little,” she said, her gaze carefully studying the sleeve of her flannel.

“Flirt—You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he huffed.

Her cheeks flared pink. “The viewers would.”

He sniffed.

“Look, I know it sounds crazy,” Daisy went on, “but this could be good for both of us. You get the house, I get content, and six-ish months from now, I’ll either be out of your hair or we’ll be married.”

Was that a joke? Hunter didn’t laugh.

She let out a breath, looking around awkwardly. “Okay then…no joking allowed.”

Hunter studied her for a long moment, his jaw clenched.

She would wreck him again. His eyes traveled up the banister behind her, settling on the old front door of the house.

He exhaled a heavy breath. “Fine. Let’s say I consider this ridiculous plan.

What exactly did you have in mind for renovations? ”

Daisy’s face lit up, and she bounded up the remaining steps. “Okay, I have a lot of ideas. Can we do a walk through?”

Hunter eyed the phone in her hand. “Off camera.”

She blinked, and then his words clicked. “Oh, ha ha. Yes. Off camera this time. Promise.” She shot him a warm smile and waved toward the door as if to say, ‘after you!’

Hunter reluctantly opened the door and stepped aside, allowing her to enter. As they walked through the foyer, Daisy’s enthusiasm bubbled over. “We could open up this space, create a more welcoming entrance. It should be bright and inviting, so we replace doors?—”

Hunter barked a laugh. “Absolutely not.”

Daisy froze, her hands still splayed in the air as though painting the picture inside her head. She let her arms fall. “Okay. No problem.”

She turned toward the stairs and gestured toward the faded, floral stair runner.

“I think it goes without saying that the matching carpet and wallpaper have to go.” She stepped toward the heavy wooden banister.

“This banister too. It’s pretty, but it’s too bulky for the space. Totally distracts from the room.”

Hunter shook his head. “The carpet stays. The banister stays.”

Daisy’s brows pulled together. “The carpet stays?” She pointed at it as though he must be confused. “This carpet.”

“It’s vintage, Daisy. It was installed with the house.”

Daisy gave him a look of complete disbelief, her rosy lips parted slightly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you had so much attachment to a strip of carpeting so aged that you can’t even tell it was once a lovely peach floral.

From the 19 60 s—not the late 1800s. Which you would know if you had gone to design school like I did.

Would you like to throw a little funeral for it? Pay your respects?”

Hunter remained unmoved.

Daisy clicked her tongue. “Okay.”

As they walked through the house, Daisy continued her tirade of ideas. “We could move this door to the opposite wall and turn this drawing room into a pantry. Oh, and in the kitchen, imagine continuous granite counters and backsplash, add an overhang on the island for seating.”

“No,” Hunter said flatly to each suggestion. He wasn’t going to inherit the house just to have it completely changed, wall to wall.

Daisy continued until they reached the sunroom, and Hunter quickly closed the door. “This room is off-limits,” he said gruffly.

“What?” Daisy gaped at him. “Hunter, it’s the focal point of the house. Every person who watches the show will be looking forward to the sunroom renovation.”

“No.”

Finally, Daisy’s perpetual optimism seemed to crack. “Why did you call me out here if you were just going to shut me down?”

Hunter’s jaw ticked. Why had he called her out here? It was obvious this was never going to work.

“Were you just looking to get the last word? To pay me back for supposedly stealing your career by getting my hopes up and shutting me down?”

Hunter felt his throat go dry. That’s not what he’d intended at all.

Her eyes flashed as she continued, “Well, news flash. I have NO idea what you meant when you said I stole your designs. I never did that. But I wouldn’t expect you to believe me.”

“Good,” Hunter replied coldly. “Because I don’t.”

“Good,” she shot back.

“Good.”

“Great,” she said, her head tilting, her long hair sliding over her shoulder. “Now that that’s out of the way. Why don’t you tell me what you will let me renovate.”

Hunter crossed his arms over his chest. Pretended to consider for a moment. And then, “The porch.”

Daisy stared at him for a moment, her eyes widening in outrage, and then released a furious snarl before storming out of the house.

Hunter let out a satisfied chuckle, watching her storm out before following.

She was already halfway across the lawn, burrs snagging the hems of her flannel, clawing at her to stay. Her brows were pinched with frustration, her face flushed with pink.

Shoot. She was really leaving…

He rushed down the steps. “Hey! Where are you going?”

Her feet pounded the pavement. “To catch a ferry.”

Hunter jogged after her, catching her by the elbow gently. “Daisy, wait.”

She stopped but made no move to turn. Her lips were pressed together. Her jaw locked tight. Hunter felt a pang of guilt for giving her such a hard time. She was trying to help him, after all.

“I’m sorry, I…I’m not ready to give you free rein over the whole house.” He ducked into her line of vision, but she refused to meet his eye. “But…maybe we can start with the porch and see how it goes. If it turns out well, we can discuss expanding the project.”

Her gaze flicked toward him, her eyes calculating, searching, and he had the sense he was being measured up. Against what, he wasn’t sure.

“The porch…and the foyer,” she said finally.

Hunter winced.

Daisy shrugged. “That’s fine. I’ll just wait it out. House goes on the market in, what did you say, a few weeks?”

Hunter raked a hand through his hair. She was bluffing.

She couldn’t afford it…could she? He straightened, really seeing her for the first time since she’d arrived on the island.

And he couldn’t help but feel a grudging admiration for her determination.

She might be infuriatingly sunny, but she certainly wasn’t backing down.

And it wasn’t like he had any other options. For now. He’d work something out. They wouldn’t have to lie for long.