Page 28 of Meet Me at Sunset Cove (Jonathon Island #5)

Chapter Thirteen

D aisy glanced again over her shoulder, her eyes skating over the thin layer of snow on the street of Sunset Cove. She didn’t know what she was looking for. She knew he wasn’t coming. Even still, she glanced again.

Her breath swarmed the winter air as she turned back to her task, her cold fingers wrapping around the old, rusted light fixtures that framed the front door.

It had been a long week. Hunter had spent the majority of his time holed up in the office, trying to keep the business running on his own while his dad recovered from his medical emergency.

Daisy had made the effort to go see Joe at the hospital.

After all, he was her fake future father-in-law.

But for the most part, she had been left to her own devices, given the space to let her imagination roam in these wild woods.

She’d spent the better half of the week throwing herself at the renovation, making daily trips to the mainland for supplies.

She’d ordered furniture for staging, picked out new light fixtures for the foyer and porch, installed the new stair runners, and anything else she could think of to keep herself from overthinking the fact that Hunter had simply disappeared.

She finished disconnecting the last of the old lights and frowned. Two…four…ten…Shoot. She’d miscalculated. She was short on wire connectors for the updated fixtures.

Sighing, Daisy climbed down the ladder and dusted off her hands. Another trip to Smith’s Hardware was in order. She was starting to become a regular there.

Tromping down the steps in her new winter boots, she stuffed her frozen hands into her pockets and started down the hill.

Twenty minutes later, Daisy stepped out of Smith’s with a fresh box of connectors. She was standing outside Martha’s, contemplating an early dinner, when a familiar face stepped onto the street.

Daisy frowned, recognition snagging her attention. “Lino! Hey.”

The man turned, his eyes trying to find the source. His eyes landed on Daisy, and his face lit with surprise. “Daisy!”

Beaming, he met her halfway down the sidewalk.

Lino O’Brien looked exactly how she remembered him.

In his mid-fifties, he had the polished look of someone who spent most of his time in metropolitan boardrooms rather than on a remote Michigan island.

His salt-and-pepper hair was expertly styled, and despite the cold, he wore a tailored wool coat that spoke more of urban fashion than Midwest practicality.

Daisy had always liked the producer.

“Crazy seeing you here. How are you?” she said, wrapping her free arm around him in a hug.

Lino smiled warmly, stepping back to look at her. “I’m good. You?”

“I’m good.” Daisy slipped back into her safe, secure smile. “What are you doing here?”

Her mind swarmed with possibilities. Was he here to talk to her about picking up the show? Or maybe something else?

A flash of awkwardness filled Lino’s face, and before he could respond, someone stepped out onto the sidewalk behind him.

Daisy felt dizzy. Like she’d been pushed through a frozen lake.

He was talking to someone, laughing, smiling.

He was bundled up against the cold in a sleek, charcoal-gray wool coat that hugged his broad shoulders—a far cry from the casual attire he used to wear on set.

His sandy-blond hair, once meticulously styled for the camera, was now slightly longer and tousled by the wind, giving him a more rugged look.

His face, still handsome in a way that used to make Daisy’s heart race, turned to her. His strong jaw was covered in a light stubble, and his blue eyes lifted, met hers.

Logan Double.

For a moment, no one spoke. The tension was palpable, hanging in the frigid air between them.

Logan broke the silence first. “Daisy,” he said, his voice a mix of hesitation and forced casualness. “I…didn’t expect to see you here.”

“It’s no secret where I’ve been,” she managed to say, her throat stinging. “What are you doing here?”

Logan glanced at Lino, who looked increasingly uncomfortable. “We’re, uh…we’re here on business,” Logan said vaguely.

Daisy frowned, her eyes darting to the door they’d just stepped out of. Miller Antiques. “Sorry…I don’t understand.”

Logan’s eyes darted to Lino. “Give us a minute?”

Lino nodded and turned to Daisy, giving her arm a polite squeeze. “It was good to see you, Daisy.” He stepped away, leaving them alone on the snowy sidewalk.

Logan took a deep breath. “The network is really interested in Jonathon Island. They want me to do a holiday special, giving a facelift to one of the houses.”

Daisy reeled back. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m doing a special, short-run series renovating one of the homes, and then we’re going to submit it for the HOME New Year’s Virtual Parade—you know about that, right?”

“What? Yes. I know about that—but…the one-dollar homes are not up for grabs. There are none left. And even if there were, you have to open a business. You have to move here. Those are the rules. I checked,” she said, her words stringing together in a jumble.

“I didn’t apply for a one-dollar house.” Logan’s gaze dropped to her lips, the corner of his mouth tilting upward in a smirk.

“I just had a great conversation with one of the owners up on Zinnia Boulevard, the Millers—nice family—and they’ve agreed to let us do a small reno, courtesy of HGTV, of course. ”

“Why?” Daisy blurted out.

Logan stuffed his hands in his pockets, brows raised at her outburst.

She blinked, cheeks flushing. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Why did they do that?”

“Why wouldn’t they? I’ve got the show, after all.” Logan explained, his tone careful. The unspoken words hung heavy between them. I’ve got the show, and you don’t.

Heat rose to her cheeks, embarrassment welling behind her eyes. She was not going to let him see her cry. She nodded. “Got it.”

She shouldered past him, heading toward her apartment. The light fixtures would have to wait.

“Daisy, wait.”

She didn’t wait. She didn’t slow down.

She heard footsteps running after her, and then he was in front of her, blocking the sidewalk.

“What do you want, Logan?” she asked, her voice tight.

“You’ve got a lot of eyes on your channel right now. It’s really a clever thing you two have got going. I’d forgotten about Hunter.” He paused, a smirk touching his lips. “How’d you dig him up, anyway?”

“What do you want?” Daisy asked again, changing the subject.

“I thought maybe we could collaborate.”

Daisy recoiled. “Collaborate? With you?”

Her eyes darted for an exit, and she turned, stepping onto the snowy street.

“I can get you your show back.”

Daisy froze, just for a moment, and Logan seized the opportunity, stepping up beside her. “I talked to Lino. We think we could pull some strings, get you back on the show.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” she whispered.

“I miss working with you. Please. Let me help you.”

Her eyes stung.

She risked a glance up and found him staring down at her, those blue eyes imploring her to see reason.

“I have a show.” She stepped past him, walked away, and didn’t stop until her apartment door shut behind her.

* * *

He couldn’t keep this up.

The door creaked open, well past dark, and Hunter stumbled in, exhaustion etched into every muscle of his body. He barely made it to the couch before collapsing, sinking face-first into the worn cushions with a heavy sigh.

Waylen emerged from his room, his police uniform slightly rumpled, the top button undone. “Oof, you’ve seen better days, my man.”

Hunter let out a grunt in response, his eyes already sealed shut for the night. There was no way he was making it to his bed.

“How’s Dad?” Waylen asked, crossing to the studio kitchen.

Hunter rolled over, his eyes still shut. “He’s sick of turkey and he misses salt.”

“So, not liking the heart-healthy diet Doc put him on?” he said over the sound of the fridge opening, followed by the clink of glass.

“Not liking it at all…Today, when I stopped by, I caught him red-handed, eating shredded cheese straight from the bag.” Hunter dragged a hand over his face, wiping at the exhaustion. “Guy’s lost it.”

Waylen chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

Hunter peeked an eye at his brother. “You know how it is, getting him to follow the doctor’s orders. If I could just find a way to make him eat his veggies…”

He’d be okay. The doctor said his condition was reversible. Even so, Hunter couldn’t help the sting of guilt.

Dad never would have run the business so hard if Hunter hadn’t enabled it.

The worn leather armchair across from his crinkled as Waylen settled into it. “So…uh…I saw Daisy today. She was eating at Martha’s…alone.”

Hunter’s eyes snapped open, a different kind of guilt washing over him. “Aw, man. I’ve just…I’ve had a lot going on.”

“I know.”

“The business is swamped.”

“I know.”

A heavy pause settled between them.

“Listen, Hunt. You know me, I don’t like to poke my nose in where it doesn’t belong?—”

“That’s not something I know about you.”

“—but, it’s been two weeks,” Waylen continued.

Hunter ran a hand through his hair, sitting up. “I know, I know. I’ll be there tomorrow, help her with the house.”

Waylen frowned. “Help her with the house? How about just spend some time with her? She’s your fiancée .”

The words hit Hunter like a bucket of cold water. “Yeah. Yes, you’re right. It’s okay though. She gets it.”

Waylen took a sip of his beer and leaned forward, his expression tight. “Maybe she does get it. But I wouldn’t count on that lasting too long.”

Hunter considered for a moment, a seed of worry sinking in. How long before Daisy realized she could do so much better?

They may be more effort than they’re worth.

“Okay.” Hunter nodded. “Okay, yeah. I’ll get over there. First thing tomorrow.”