“Nope.” He grins, gently pushing a stray hair out of my face, his eyes soft on me.
Nash yawns, stretching. “Lucky ones. I need to go to work, or my new boss will fire me. I’m already late,” he jokes.
I turn to Hunter. “Don’t you need to work?”
He shrugs. “Why be the boss if you can’t take a day off on your birthday?”
We all reluctantly get up, and Nash and Hunter dress quickly. Nash hugs me from behind, nuzzling my neck, while Hunter gently kisses my nose.
“I’ll text you when it’s ready, but give me an hour?” Hunter asks.
“Sure.” I smile, thinking of the extra time that gives me to freshen up.
“See you later,” Hunter calls out as he leaves the van.
Nash lingers, whispering against the side of my head, “Text me later, okay? I love you.”
As they leave, my heart swells with an unfamiliar optimism. Maybe, just maybe, this could work, leaving only thewhat to dowith North and Saylor.
Piece of cake.
This iswhere Hunter wants me to meet him?
The large, red brick building appears slightly industrial. I feel a mix of curiosity and confusion as I stand before it. He texted me to come here, right behind the shipyard of Jones & Sons, butthe place appears deserted. No signs of a café or restaurant, just an empty, unused building.
As I’m about to text Hunter, almost certain I’m in the wrong place, the door swings open. Hunter stands there, his smile warm and inviting. “Hey, glad you found it. Come in,” he beckons.
I step inside, finding myself in a vast space. The concrete floor, the unadorned walls, and the doors at the back give it a raw, unfinished look. Yet, it’s bright and welcoming. My eyes are drawn to a large window with a view of the ocean and a wide windowsill beneath it. A to-go mug, an energy drink, and what appear to be croissants are neatly arranged on it.
“What is this place?” I ask, taking in the surroundings. It smells citrusy fresh, like someone just cleaned.
Hunter’s hand finds the small of my back, guiding me toward the windowsill. Then he opens the energy drink for me, handing it over. “Sorry, the plan to show you this wasn’t spontaneous, but doing it right now was. I only had time to clean up a bit.”
I sip the drink, a contented breath escaping my lips. Hunter sips from his to-go mug. “Coffee?” I inquire, wanting to learn more about him and what he likes to drink in the morning.
I don’t really know much about him at all, and it bugs me.
He nods. “Yeah, though I only like it with a lot of sugar and cream.” He offers me the mug, and I take a tentative sip, humming in delight.
Sugary goodness.
“I might become a coffee drinker if it always tastes like this.” I laugh.
Hunter smiles and gestures around the room. “What do you say?”
“To what?” I shrug, still unsure. “What is it?”
“What do you think it is?” He grins, stepping closer.
“An empty space?” I ask hesitantly.
“A little more imagination, Ms. Wilson.” He chuckles.
Setting down his mug, he takes my drink and places it back on the windowsill. He gently takes my hand and pulls me to him, kissing my forehead before he leads me to the middle of the room. He stands behind me, placing his hands on my hips. “Imagine this…” he begins, his tone filled with excitement and his whispering in my ear sending a shiver down my back. “Over there…” He points over my shoulder to one corner. “That could be your main work area… lifts, tools, everything you need. And here…” he turns us slightly, “… a waiting area for clients, comfortable chairs, and a small coffee station.”
I… what?
“In the back are two office spaces,” he adds, pointing to the door.
