Page 12 of Saving it with My Best Friend's Brother

Sophie lingered in my doorway, relief clear on her tired face. “Mr. Miller offered them complimentary drinks in the lounge while we finished preparing their rooms. He also mentioned a sunset champagne toast for the entire party on the deck.” Shepaused, her next words hitting harder than any of Michael’s warnings: “He’s... quite good at this.”

“Yes,” I said, watching him chat with the bride. “He is.”

She hesitated, then added words that stopped me cold. “The staff likes him, you know. He takes time to learn everyone’s names, asks about their families.” A small smile played on her lips. “This morning, he helped Jorge fix that temperamental coffee machine in the breakfast room that’s been driving us crazy for months. He rolled up his sleeves and got to work like he’d been here forever.”

The information shouldn’t have affected me, but it did. Hunter wasn’t just swooping in with business strategies—he was becoming part of Pine Haven’s daily life. Like he’d done with that tech startup in DC and that boutique hotel in Ohio. Making himself essential before...

“Was there something else?” I asked, noting Sophie’s lingering presence.

“Just...” She smiled softly. “It’s nice seeing someone care about this place the way you do.”

After she left, I sank back into my chair, Michael’s warning warring with what I’d just witnessed. Through the window, Hunter had the entire wedding party laughing now, Mrs. Harrison’s earlier fury forgotten as he described something with animated gestures. He’d probably just saved us from a scathing review, maybe even gained us future bookings.

He was exactly what Pine Haven needed, or the biggest threat to my heart since the last time I’d let myself feel something for him.

The memory of Taylor’s wedding hit me unexpectedly—Hunter pulled me onto the dance floor after Taylor’s first dance, his hand warm on my waist. “One dance won’t kill you, Amelia,” he’d teased. But then the music slowed, and his eyes met minewith an intensity that made me forget every reason why we wouldn’t work.

My phone buzzed, breaking the dangerous train of thought. A text from Michael: Did you think about what I said? Be careful, Sis.

I stared at the message, then at Hunter through my window. He’d moved the wedding party to the newly restored deck, where the afternoon sun caught his profile as he pointed out landmarks in the valley. As if sensing my gaze, he glanced up, catching my eye. The smile he gave me was small, private—just for me.

My heart betrayed me by skipping a beat.

Careful might already be too late.

A knock at my door made me jump. Jorge stood there, looking apologetic. “Ms. Horton? About that plumbing issue in the east wing...”

I welcomed the distraction and the chance to focus on something concrete rather than the complicated emotions Hunter stirred up. But as I followed Jorge down the hall, I heard Mrs. Harrison’s voice drift from the deck:

“You must have grown up here. You know so much about the resort’s history...”

“Not exactly,” Hunter replied, his voice carrying that warmth that made everyone feel special, “but Pine Haven’s always been special to me.”

I quickened my pace, refusing to analyze why those words struck a cord deep within me.

***

Evening settled over Pine Haven like a soft blanket, the last rays of sunlight painting the mountains in shades of purple and gold. I stood on the newly renovated deck, trying to sort through thechaos of emotions the day had brought. The wood still smelled of fresh stain—another detail Hunter had gotten exactly right.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

I didn’t turn at Hunter’s voice, keeping my eyes fixed on the horizon. Below, the Wilsons’ grandchildren were having their first ski lesson on the same slopes where their parents had learned. “Just thinking about what my grandfather would make of all this.”

His footsteps were quiet as he joined me at the railing. “The changes?”

“Everything.” I gestured vaguely at the resort spread out below us. A place caught between past and future, just like my feelings for the man beside me. “The financial troubles, the modernization plans, you...”

“And what’s the verdict?”

I finally looked at him. The setting sun caught his profile, softening his usual sharp edges. He’d rolled up his sleeves to help Jorge with some last-minute maintenance—another way he kept surprising me. “I honestly don’t know anymore.”

He was quiet momentarily, then said, “I found something today, while I was looking through old marketing materials.” He pulled a weathered brochure from his back pocket—how long had he been carrying it, waiting for the right moment? “From Pine Haven’s first year.”

I took it carefully; the paper was fragile and old. My grandfather’s words jumped out:“A haven for those seeking both adventure and comfort, where modern luxury meets mountain tradition.”

“He wasn’t afraid of evolution, Amelia,” Hunter said softly, his voice carrying that same gentle tone he’d used when he’d found me crying at Taylor’s wedding. “He built this place to grow, to change with the times while keeping its heart intact.”

“Stop that,” I muttered, handing the brochure back, trying not to notice how our fingers brushed.

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