by Nina Lindsey
He’d played the field in his younger years and enjoyed the company of a lot of women, but the plan had always been to get married by the time he was thirty-five. Though the deadline was fast approaching, he hadn’t yet found anyone he could imagine spending his life with.
But Juliette…she had all the qualities he was looking for, and she didn’t seem to care that they wouldn’t have any hearts and flowers. The issue was their business relationship.
On the one hand, she was right—they could be a powerful couple.
On the other hand, if it didn’t work out, they’d have to navigate a minefield.
Hunter shook his head to dislodge the thoughts. He had more important things to focus on right now.
“I just emailed you the inspection reports for the Mariposa buildings,” Juliette continued. “And new revisions on the Oceanview drawings.”
“I’ll take a look later today.”
“So what’s it like there?” Amusement threaded her voice. “Have you gotten a shave at the barber shop? Bought penny candy at the general store? Chatted with Boss Hogg or that funny little deputy sheriff from the show with Andy Griffith?”
“The Andy Griffith Show.”
“Barney Fife, right? Have you run into him?”
“Not yet.” He wasn’t about to tell her who he’d run into. He couldn’t imagine two more opposite women than Juliette and Aria. “I gotta go, Juliette. I’ll get back to you later today about the drawings.”
Leaving his phone on the desk, he headed outside into the early morning air. After jogging the length of Starfish Avenue, he turned left and approached Mariposa Street. The district was an unfortunate blight in a perfect location. Every building would have to go. The plan was to construct the multi-level parking structure and build the complex out west toward the ocean.
Juliette had been right. It was a jewel—even if it was still a relatively small addition to the company portfolio. It was standard operating procedure for Imperial to keep plans under wraps until finances and contracts were secured, but there had to be a bigger picture for the Pacific Coast. Hunter made a mental note to ask Bruce again the next time they spoke.
He passed Meow and Then. The café was shuttered and dark, but a light glowed in a window on the second story.
Against his better judgement, Hunter stopped. A woman’s silhouette passed in front of the window. Though he’d seen her in person exactly twice, he’d have known Aria’s figure anywhere.
His heart was beating as if he’d just finished a five-mile run. That made no sense. His recovery heartrate was exceptional. It should have normalized within seconds of his slowing to a walk.
She sat down at a table in another window and lifted a coffee cup to her mouth.
Did she live here?
Unease twisted in his gut. Whatever old “charm” the district had, the state of disrepair combined with the surrounding vacant lots and forest…it couldn’t be safe. Especially for a young woman living alone.
All the more reason she should sell. With the money Imperial was offering, she’d be able to afford moving to a nicer neighborhood. She could even have her own place in an apartment building instead of living above her café.
An overhead light shone on her face. Even from a distance, he saw the elegant lines of her profile. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
What the hell was wrong with his heartbeat?
“Honey, you define the word longing.”
Hunter turned. Destiny, the new-age shop owner whom he’d met briefly yesterday, was approaching her store with a takeout coffee.
“Excuse me?” Hunter said.
“Longing.” Tossing the dangling end of a multicolored scarf over her shoulder, she stopped at the door of Moonbeams. “It’s a yearning or a hunger for something or someone.”
“I know what longing means.” He’d gotten the sense that Destiny was something of a wingnut with her “energy crystals” and “intuitive readings,” but she hadn’t been opposed to the Imperial proposal. So he intended to stay on her good side.
“Every so often, I can read a person’s energy, especially when it’s as intense as yours.” Destiny pulled a large keyring out of her flowered bag. “Usually that indicates a supreme imbalance in your psyche or a search for your One True Love.”
Hunter managed not to roll his eyes. “Good to know.”
“She told me you helped her rescue Porkchop.” Destiny’s lips curved. “It was no coincidence that you happened to be there right when she needed you.”
Aria had told her friend about their cat chase? Interesting.
Destiny glanced at Aria’s window. “She know you’re watching her?”
“I’m not watching her. I was out for a run—” he indicated his fitness tracker, “—and I saw her light on. How long have you known her?”
“Since she was a teenager.” Destiny pushed open her shop door. “She opened the café and turned the second floor into her living space about three months ago, after she moved back to Bliss Cove.”
“Where was she before that?”
“Not my story to tell, honey.”
“What is your story to tell?”
“About Aria?” She eyed him speculatively. “She puts her whole heart into everything she does. She has more backbone than she knows. And I’ll tell you two extremely important things about her.”
Every part of him went on alert. “What?”
“Her astrological sign is Cancer. And her spirit animal is the cat.” She pursed her lips, nodded sagely and stepped into her store. “Live in the light, honey.”
The door closed. Hunter shook his head, a humorless laugh erupting from his throat.
Astrology and spirit animals. No coincidences.
As if new-age crap would give him any further insight into Aria. He’d bet the cat spirits didn’t know she wore pink flowered underwear.
After returning to the inn to shower, Hunter pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. Taking his laptop and car keys, he headed out again to the Sugar Joy Bakery on Dandelion Street.
“Morning. What can I get for you?” The young woman behind the counter straightened from sliding a basket of cookies into the glass display case.
One look at her face clinched Hunter’s belief that this was still a family-run bakery. The woman was wearing a Grateful Dead T-shirt and bright red lipstick, and with her pale skin and long dark hair, she was the opposite of honey-like, summery Aria. However, her fine-boned features and thick-lashed eyes left no doubt that they were related.
“Chocolate-chip cookies are fresh out of the oven,” she added.
“No, thanks.” Hunter scanned the baked goods. “I’ll have a blueberry muffin and a black coffee, please.”
He dug into his pocket for his wallet and paid for the food.
“Have a seat, and I’ll bring your food out to you.” Aria’s sister nodded toward the round tables.
He took a table by the window. If he were the kind of man who liked cafés that served coffee in oversized earthenware mugs and had a shelf full of board games for customers, he’d have appreciated the homey atmosphere. Green plants flourished in colorful pots, people sat reading or talking in comfortable chairs, and bright paintings decorated the walls.
Nice for a small-town bakery, but he’d never understood how people could spend hours at a place like this. Didn’t they get bored?
He opened a browser on his laptop. Though it was stupid, he typed “Astrological sign Cancer” into a search engine and studied the results.
Strongly connected to family and home. Ruled by the moon. Led by her emotions and heart. Guarded at first, but if you earn her trust, she’ll be a lifelong loyal companion. Deeply erotic. Bonds passionately with one person.
Strengths: tenacious, imaginative, loyal, emotional.
Weaknesses: Moody, suspicious, insecure.
Yeah, well, he could have figured all that out on his own. Not to mention, most people exhibited those traits at one point or another. They weren’t exclus
ive to Aria.
Deeply erotic.
Based on her responsiveness to his kiss, he already knew that.
“Here you go.” The counter girl’s voice sliced through his thoughts.
Hunter moved his laptop aside. She placed the muffin and coffee in front of him.
“Thanks.” He took a swallow of the coffee. “I understand this place is a town institution.”
“We’ve been here for twenty-five years, at least.” She tucked her hands into her apron pockets. “My mother opened it when my sisters and I were kids.”
“Hey, Rory, can you pack up two dozen cupcakes for me?” A woman in her early thirties dressed in a beige skirt and white blouse hurried through the front doors. “Some of my students are getting together for a study group, and I want to bring them a treat.”
“Careful. You don’t want to get a reputation for actually being nice.” The dark-haired woman—Rory—returned to the counter and took a box from a shelf.
“I’m only doing it because they took the initiative to plan it on their own.” The other woman, whom Hunter guessed was Aria’s other sister Callie, started toward the wooden doors leading to the kitchen. “Is Mom here? I need to ask her about the roofing estimates she was supposed to get.”
“She’s doing payroll in the office.” Rory began placing cupcakes in the box. “I’m sure she can handle the roofing estimates on her own.”
“I just want to look them over.” Callie disappeared into the kitchen, not catching Rory’s eye-roll and heavy sigh.
Hunter pulled up Aria’s document on his laptop and added information about the bakery and her sisters.
Okay. He could work with this. Aria had roots and family here. That would partially explain her attachment to the old district. Most of the other Mariposa building owners also had a history here, but they’d been around for a lot longer and were ready to move on. They also recognized that he was offering them something much better than what they had.
“Oh my god.” The incredulous voice spilled into his veins like cherry syrup.
His heart kicked against his ribs. Slowly, he turned to find Aria standing at the wooden doors leading to the kitchen, her hands planted on her hips and her face darkened by a scowl that was a direct contrast to her flowy, rose-colored sundress.
“Are you stalking me?” she snapped.
Rory whipped her gaze toward Hunter, her features hardening. A few other customers glanced his way warily.
“Just having a coffee.”
Aria’s eyes flashed. She started toward him. Rory grabbed her arm and hissed something in a low tone. Aria whispered back, pulled her arm away, and strode to Hunter’s table.
He remained seated so he’d appear less physically intimidating, but the closer she got, the heavier his heart pounded. By the time she was standing in front of him, his pulse was racing.
Even though he’d just seen her close-up yesterday, her beauty hit him with renewed force. Again, she wore no makeup aside from a lip gloss that made her mouth even more kissable. Her hair was pulled back into a messy knot, leaving little strands dangling over her bare shoulders that looked as if they tasted like cream.
He shifted, trying to ignore the heat pooling in his groin.
“Not for one second do I think it’s a coincidence that you showed up at my mother’s bakery the day after trying to bully me into selling my café.” Aria folded her arms. The movement caused the bracelets on her wrists to clink together. “I heard you were looking into health code ordinances to see if I was violating any rules. Whatever other tactic you’re planning to use to try and get to me, it won’t work. In case you need me to repeat myself…”
She placed both hands on the table and leaned in close to him. His head filled with the scent of her, a thousand tropical summer aromas—coconuts, salt, oranges, sunshine.
“I. Am. Not. Selling. My. Café.” Aria spoke through gritted teeth.
For the life of him, Hunter couldn’t think of a retort. All he could do was think about how badly he wanted to slide his hand around her warm nape, pull her closer, and crush her pretty mouth with his again.
Hard, this time. More of the hot, open-mouthed kiss they’d shared on the sidewalk. He wanted to devour her, inhale her, eat her right up. Everything about her was so damned tempting.
“What’s going on here?” Callie marched up behind her sister, her spine ramrod straight and her glare sharp enough to cut through an iceberg.
“None of your business.” Aria whirled to frown at her sister. “I can handle it.”
“Is that why I heard you all the way in the kitchen?”
“Would you please go away and let me take care of this?” Aria snapped.
Hunter shot his gaze to Rory, who was tapping her fingers impatiently on the glass counter as if she were poised to leap over it and enter the fray.
“I’m Callie Prescott.” Callie stepped in front of Aria and extended her hand to him. “You appear to know my sister.”
Somehow, he found his voice. “We’ve met.”
“Mr. Armstrong is from Imperial Properties.” Aria moved into her sister’s space, her mouth compressing. “And Callie is a bossy professor who can’t stand not being in control of everyone else’s lives.”
“Someone has to try and stop you from making colossal mistakes.” Callie smiled thinly at Hunter. “I assume you’re here to discuss the contract.”
“Mr. Armstrong stopped by Meow and Then yesterday and attempted to intimidate…excuse me, convince me to sell my building to him.” Aria grabbed Callie’s arm and dragged her a few feet away. They started arguing in low voices.
“All right, break it up.” Rory approached, pushing between her sparring sisters. “Back to your corners, both of you.”
Callie and Aria stepped away from each other, their eyes shooting sparks.
“Look.” Hunter rose to his feet. He loved a challenge, and he appreciated Aria’s fire—hell, he liked it a lot—but he also wanted…needed her to understand the facts. “In three weeks, I’ll have the votes of at least eighty, if not over ninety percent of the Mariposa Business Association owners. If you’re the only holdout, I’ll then be legally allowed to make you an offer as low as thirty percent of what you paid for the building. Do you really want to be forced to sell at that kind of a loss? Especially while knowing what kind of profit you refused?”
Callie started to speak. Rory pinched her arm.
“Of course not.” Wariness darkened Aria’s expression before she lifted her chin in defiance. “But I won’t find myself in that position because despite your arrogance, I’m here to tell you that you won’t convince my fellow business owners to sell. I’ve known those people much longer than you have, and I sure as hell know them better. They believe in Mariposa Street as much as I do, and they’re not going to see it torn down to make way for a bunch of stupid high-rise condos and offices.”
“What do they want done in that district, then?” Hunter crossed his arms, his shoulders tensing. “What do you want? The numbers speak for themselves. Mariposa Street has been in a steady decline for years. The vacancy rate is at an all-time high. You’re the first person to have opened a new business there in well over two years. The thread is about to snap, sooner rather than later, and then what? What’s your plan for turning things around?”
“Do you seriously think I’d tell you the first thing about my plan?” she replied crisply. “Everyone knows you don’t show your hand to your opponent. You may think I’m a naïve small-town girl who doesn’t know the first thing about property development, but I’ve done my research. You’ve built multi-billion-dollar centers in cities like New York and Tokyo. The Oceanview Plaza would be Bliss Cove’s first and only high-rise complex, but it’s easily one of Imperial’s smallest developments. So why did our little town catch your eye, Mr. Armstrong?”
Great question.
When he opened his mouth to respond, she shot her hand out, palm up.
“On second thought, don’t answe
r that. I’m not interested in a bunch of bullshit about economic growth and increased revenue. The fact is that your plaza will destroy an integral part of this town’s history and create an industrial blight leading to pollution, gridlock, congestion, and a terrible environmental impact on the redwood forest and beaches. Would you like to ask me again why I will never sell my building to you?”
“Go, girl!” shouted a gray-haired man wearing a bandana and torn T-shirt. He rose to his feet and applauded along with several other customers.
“What’s the alternative?” called a woman standing near the counter. “I’m sick of paying taxes for that part of town. It’s brought us nothing but trouble for over thirty years. I say it’s about time we get rid of it and do something useful there.”
“Hear hear!” Another man clapped in support.
“What in the world is all this noise?” A woman in her sixties flew out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishrag. With short blond hair and elegant features, she was an older version of Aria.
Callie hurried forward. “Mom, don’t get upset.”
“It’s just a minor debate.” Rory shot Aria a warning look.
“The town hall is a far better place for debates.” Mrs. Prescott’s glare swept over both Aria and Hunter. “Rory, grab that tray of fresh croissants from the back. Complimentary coffee and a croissant for everyone. I apologize for the disturbance.”
Murmurs of surprised pleasure rose from the customers as they settled back down at their tables. Callie and Rory began quickly distributing the coffee and pastries.
Mrs. Prescott approached Aria, concern darkening her eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Aria sighed and indicated Hunter with a grudging thrust of her chin. “Mom, this is Hunter Armstrong from Imperial Properties. Mr. Armstrong, my mother Eleanor Prescott.”
“Hunter, please.” He extended a hand, somewhat relieved when Eleanor chose to shake his hand rather than slap him.
“Mr. Armstrong and I are on opposing sides of an issue,” Aria added, tossing him a scowl that was the visual equivalent of a slap.