Chapter Eleven

On the sidewalk outside the office, Callie paused to write down the phone number for the sale property. Hunter looked from her to the cottage and back to her. “You interested in that place?”

“I’m not sure I can afford it, but I’m curious, yes. I want to open a store, and it looks like it might be the perfect place.” Her grandmother had left her a nice inheritance with a note to use it for a life-changing purchase only. This seemed like it could be that.

“Come on.” Hunter started to cross the street.

“Wait. We need to get you home. I can come back for a closer look later.” She followed a step behind him.

“Closer look? I’m taking you inside.”

“We’re not breaking in.”

“That you would think that wounds me.” He brought his palm to his chest for the second time today.

She jogged around him, ashamed of herself for implying anything unkind. She stopped him with a hand up in front of his chest. “I didn’t mean it like that. Do you have a key?”

“No.”

“Then how—”

“It looks like there’s someone inside.” He raised his eyebrows. Now what do you say?

“Oh. Well, what are we waiting for, then?” She spun around and marched to the front door. She felt his eyes on her backside and for some inexplicable reason added a little sway to her hips.

Before she could knock, someone opened the door. “Hello,” a well-dressed forty-something woman said. “Can I help you?” The woman’s eyes slid to Hunter as he arrived at the doorstep beside Callie. “Hunter Owens, is that you?”

“It is. Hi, Mrs. Chapman.”

“How are you…” Mrs. Chapman didn’t stop talking for a solid thirty seconds, mostly because she talked about her daughter, Addison, and how she and Hunter should get together when Addison visited next. When Hunter was finally able to get a word in, he introduced Callie.

“You’re the good-luck-charm dressmaker! It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She gave a firm handshake.

“You, too,” Callie said around a smile. “We—I was wondering if this cottage is still available?”

“It is. But most likely not for long. I’ve had several interested inquiries. Come in, come in.” Mrs. Chapman waved them over the threshold. “The owner lives in Hawaii, and I manage the property for him. Please look around and let me know if I can answer any questions.”

“Thank you.” Hunter hung back while Callie walked through the cottage. The space was large enough for her to set up a work area, have a dressing room, and display some of her designs. The hardwood floor had seen better days, but a few rugs could help with that. The walls were white and looked recently painted. Crown molding added warmth and sophistication.

At the back, French doors opened to living quarters with a modest kitchen and bathroom. She loved it. All of it.

“I’m very interested,” she told Mrs. Chapman as she rejoined the realtor and Hunter.

“Wonderful. Here’s my card. You can go to my website for all the information on the cottage and click the link to get started on the application process if you want to proceed. I should warn you, though: one other party in particular is very interested as well.”

Callie put the card in her pocket, worried about the other interested person but telling herself if it was meant to be, it would be. Fate, and all that.

The three of them left together, parting ways on the sidewalk. “Scale of one to ten, how badly do you want that place?” Hunter asked.

“Nine. But it’s the first place I’ve looked at, so maybe I shouldn’t rush into it.”

“What’s your gut say?”

She thought about it for a minute. “To at least try. I had a good feeling being there.”

“I have a feeling your gut is rarely wrong.”

“What makes you say that?” Her gut had definitely screwed her over where men were concerned. Good thing she’d written them off.

“My instincts.” He pulled her to his side so she’d avoid stepping on a piece of pink bubblegum stuck on the sidewalk.

She laughed. “Thanks for the save and one-upping me with your talent for hunches. Should we go buy a lottery ticket? It might be the only way I’m able to afford the purchase.”

“Not one-upping. I have confidence in you.”

His sweet words were going to be the death of her.

“Besides, Mrs. Chapman will go to bat for you.”

They turned the corner, walking in the direction of the car. “She will?”

“Here’s my theory. If you get the cottage, then she can lay claim to helping find the perfect spot for Callie’s Designs. And if I have dinner with Addison when she comes to town, then wear the best man suit you design, it’s a six-degrees-of-separation type thing where Mrs. Chapman will get some bragging rights about the situation, whether it’s Addy I end up with or someone else.”

“That’s some interesting and confusing logic.” It made her belief in kismet sound much more reasonable.

He shrugged.

“Addy, huh?” It pained her to think about him being with someone, yet that’s exactly what she was counting on to increase her business.

He tossed her one of his mischievous smiles. “We’re friends and nothing more. She’s got a girlfriend.”

Callie’s mouth eased into an O shape.

“I’m pretty sure Mrs. Chapman knows, but that hasn’t stopped her. So bottom line, lottery ticket or not, you should at least try. What have you got to lose?”

“You’re right.”

“Usually am,” he teased.

She gave him her best eye roll. “The cottage really was a nice surprise.”

Hunter’s hand brushed hers, his skin hot to the touch. He said something under his breath that sounded like, “You’re a nice surprise.”

It had to be the fever talking—which she felt terrible about. She needed to get him home and tuck them into bed immediately.

Him.

Tuck him. There was no them. Not like that.