Eli looked between us with a barely contained smirk. “Well, I’ll leave you two professionals to your… professional things. I’ve got a room full of future divers waiting to discover they can’t clear their masks without panicking.”
“Your confidence in your students is inspiring,” Chase said.
“Hey, they’ve all come back alive so far, haven’t they?” Eli headed for the door, then turned back. “Take good care of the project and the project manager, Chase. My sister works too hard.”
Before I could protest this characterization, Eli was gone, his footsteps fading down the walkway that connected the bungalows to the main property.
Which left me alone with Chase amid the constant hum of distant construction and the soft whisper of oceanwaves from beyond the half-built deck. I became hyper-aware of my appearance—dusty jeans, resort polo shirt with the embroidered sunset logo slightly tilted, brown hair pulled back in a hasty ponytail.
“I got the final renderings late yesterday,” Chase said, breaking the momentary silence as he held up the rolled sheaf of documents. He moved to a makeshift table formed from sawhorses and a sheet of plywood. “And some material samples I’d like you to approve.”
“Wonderful.” My voice sounded overly bright to my own ears. I stepped closer as he unrolled a large, detailed color rendering of the finished bungalow.
My breath froze. His design was stunning, more beautiful than I had ever imagined from his hand-drawn sketches. The exterior featured storm-resistant concrete siding in a warm white tone, with crisp black trim and large windows that maximized the ocean view. A private deck stretched across the ocean side, with built-in seating and steps leading directly to the beach. The surrounding landscaping incorporated native plants that would provide both privacy and beauty.
“Chase,” I whispered, moved by the vision he’d created. “It’s perfect.”
Something flashed across his face—pride, pleasure, something deeper I couldn’t name. “You think so?”
“It’s exactly what I wanted but couldn’t articulate.” I leaned closer, examining the details. “You’ve captured the essence of what makes Sunset Siesta special but elevated it to something new.”
“That was the goal,” he said, his voice warm. “Honoring the history while moving forward.”
He pointed to various elements of the design, and I listened, entranced, as he explained each decision with the passion of someone who truly cared about creatingmeaningful spaces. The interior featured vaulted ceilings with exposed beams, large sliding doors that opened the living area to the deck, and a seating area.
“For the bathroom countertops, I’m thinking this.” He produced a sample of polished quartz with tiny fragments of sea glass embedded throughout. The surface caught the light, sparkling with blues and greens that evoked the ocean beyond.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmured, running my fingers over the smooth surface. “Local?”
He nodded. “A craftsman in Key West. Costs a bit more, but the quality is exceptional, and it tells a story about this place.”
“The ideal balance of practical and special,” I agreed. “Our guests will love it.”
“Speaking of guests, I’ve been thinking about the target market for these bungalows.” Chase leaned in closer, his arm brushing against mine as he indicated the floor plan. The light contact sent a ridiculous tingle up my spine. I forced myself to focus on the plans, not on the way his presence filled the unfinished space. “These aren’t just rooms. They’re experiences. Honeymooners, anniversary celebrations, special occasions.”
“Premium pricing.Which we’ll need to offset the building costs.” I hesitated, then added, “Thank you again for the investment. I know it was a risk.”
Chase’s expression turned serious, and his eyes held mine. “Not a risk. An opportunity. I believe in this place, Harper. And I believe in your vision for it.”
Something unspoken passed between us, and I found myself wondering, not for the first time, what had prompted Chase Ashworth—successful architect with afledgling firm here in Dove Key—to invest his own money in our struggling family resort. His twenty-five percent stake and cash infusion had made the renovation possible, but the business case didn’t quite explain the passion he brought to every aspect of the project.
“Well,” I said, breaking the moment before it became too intense, “your belief is paying off. These bungalows are going to save us.”
I’d nearly had a coronary when he unveiled the design for four brand-new bungalows stretching along the far end of the beach. He’d kept the idea to himself until he was sure, then had lobbied hard for the unexpected project. And expense. I’d reluctantly approved it, but now that I saw the real potential, I was fully on board.
Chase nodded, turning back to the renderings. “The indoor-outdoor flow was key to the design. I wanted guests to feel connected to the beach and water even when they’re inside.”
“It’s just right. Authentic luxury, not pretentious.”
“Exactly.” His smile was warm, appreciative. “You get it.”
“We make a good team. Even when we argue about budgets.”
“Especially then,” he countered with a hint of humor. “Your practical constraints rein me in a little.”
“And your insistence on quality saves me from my worst penny-pinching instincts.”
Chase laughed, the sound rich and genuine in the bare space. “Remember the great light fixture debate of last month?”
