Chapter One
HARPER
I inhaledthe scent of raw lumber and possibility while ignoring the undercurrent of pure panic. Bungalow number four—full of potential, unfinished, and one of the reasons I couldn’t sleep at night. The gutted space represented everything wonderful and terrifying about Siesta Sunset’s resort renovation—opportunities wrapped in financial risk, dreams entangled with practical nightmares.
“Come on.” I led my older brother Eli down the unfinished hallway, stepping carefully around a stack of drywall. “I wanted you to see the progress before your shift.”
Sunlight streamed through the empty window frames, illuminating swirling dust motes and highlighting the gleaming light-gauge steel studswhere walls would eventually stand. The exposed concrete subfloors echoed our footsteps, awaiting the hardwood flooring that would transform this skeleton into the luxury beachfront bungalow of my imagination. And Chase Ashworth’s meticulousdesigns.
“Progress, huh?” Eli ran his hand along an exposed steel beam, his deep indigo eyes dancing. “It looked like a hurricane hit, and then someone sent in a wrecking crew for good measure.”
I shot him a look. “Thatsteel framing you’re lovingly stroking isn’t just for show, Eli. Chase designed it to withstand hurricanes.It’s calledin progress. Two weeks ago, this was just a concrete foundation.”
“Ah, yes, the famous Harper Coleridge optimism.” He grinned, the same effortless smile that charmed tourists into booking his dive excursions. My brother had perfected the sun-kissed beach bum look—tousled dark blond hair, perpetual tan, and an easy, humorous confidence that made everyone instantly comfortable. Today, he wore board shorts and a faded Sunset Siesta Dive Shop T-shirt, already dressed for his upcoming class.
I gestured toward where the bed would eventually be. “The windows will face the ocean. The bathroom plumbing is starting. And look—” I pointed to the far wall. “That’s where the private deck will extend, with steps down to the beach. Or something like that. Chase is still working on the design.”
Eli whistled low. “Fancy. I’m still getting used to the idea of our little family resort going all premium on us.”
“We have to evolve or die.” The weight of my general manager responsibilities settled on my shoulders like a lead balloon. “The Florida Keys might be paradise, but Sunset Siesta can’t survive on nostalgia and charm alone anymore.”
“Especially when the charm includes leaky roofs and air conditioners from the Reagan era.”
I let out a wry laugh. “Tell me about it. I spent an hour yesterday placating the Hendersons in room twenty after their AC died. Again.”
The resort’s situation wasn’t exactly dire, but it wasn’t far off. Our ancestors had built something special here on Dove Key, but after Dad’s disappearance fifteen years ago, Mom had struggled to keep things afloat. Now that she was stepping back, the responsibility fell mostly to me to keep the family legacy from crumbling beneath waves of deferred maintenance and outdated amenities.
Eli kicked at a scrap of wood. “You doing okay, sis? You’ve been looking tired.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Not in a bad way,” he amended quickly. “Just in a ‘my sister is trying to run a struggling resort while single-parenting a kindergartner’ kind of way.”
I sighed, leaning against a half-constructed wall. “It’s been intense. The construction crew hit an unexpected framing issue in bungalow two yesterday, which means more delays and probably more money.”
“And the amazing nephew?” Eli’s face softened.
A mental snapshot of my son flashed through my mind—his bright blue eyes always searching, golden brown hair a wild mess no matter what I did. And his energy? Boundless. “Finn’s great. Except he announced last night that he has a part in the school play, which means costume-making falls to me, his hopelessly uncrafty mother.”
“Sweet. What’s the play?”
“Something about ocean conservation. He’s a parrotfish.”
“A parrotfish?” Eli’s expression brightened. “Perfect! That kid’s already obsessed with everything underwater. Must be genetic.”
“He wants blue and green scales and a rainbow tail.”
“Which is only right, you know.”
“The play is the kindergarten class’s major project. It’snot for several months, so at least I have some time to work on my costume-making skills.”
“Tell you what,” Eli said. “I’ll help with the costume. I can be crafty when proper uncle duties motivate me.”
I smiled, genuinely grateful. “You’re the best.”
“Of course I am,” he replied with a mock bow. “I’ll be proud uncle number one in the audience, front and center, embarrassing him with excessive applause.”
The worry lines between my eyebrows relaxed. This was Eli’s gift—making everything more manageable with his easy confidence and humor. Where I carried the weight of responsibility, Eli navigated life with a light touch. It had driven me crazy when we were younger, but now I appreciated his counterbalance to my constant stress. Though it still surprised me that he’d recently found the love of his life in our straitlaced, laser-focused accountant. They balanced each other and Jules had recently moved in with Eli.
