Page 3 of The Fake Fiance's Billionaire Adversary
“And do you really want to sink every dime you have into it when you know…” She paused a beat. “When you know you may not be able to keep it?”
Carlin was talking like there were more dimes to sink into it. Reagan nearly snorted and said, “As if.” But she held the snarky comment back. Instead, she took a deep breath as reality settled in.
Tears pooled in the corner of Reagan’s eyes. “I just can’t give up.”
“Reagan, I know you’ve always felt like…” It seemed like she was searching for the best word.
“A failure because you’re good at everything?”
Carlin groaned. “You aren’t a failure. You’re the hardest working person I know. Whether the bed and breakfast succeeds or not, it won’t be your fault. You’ve put your heart and soul into it.”
Reagan sniffed. She could have some knock-down, drag-outs with her sister, but she was also the best at wiping away tears. “Do you really think that?”
“I don’t think it; I know it. If there’s a way to save that place, you’re the only one I’d trust to do it.”
The little confidence booster her sister was dishing out was making her feel better. It didn’t change her circumstances, but sometimes just knowing someone believed in you was enough to revive a fighting spirit. “Thanks, Carlin.”
“I love you, Reagan. I just…I want you to be happy.”
“I love you too. I want the same for you.” Reagan needed a mental break from her problems, if only for a minute. “That reminds me. How did that date go the other night?”
The arrogant house flipper, Hunter, floated to mind. Sheesh. That guy. At first, she’d thought he was downright adorable. Little dimple on his left cheek. That flashy smile. And, mercy, those blue eyes. Those things were like beacons. He’d been by more than a dozen times before she knew his real motive for coming by. Man, he was charming. She’d been close to picking out china when he’d offered to buy her family’s bed and breakfast.
Oh, he’d made her furious. All that charm to butter her up into selling. She’d told him under no uncertain terms was she selling. Then he’d had the audacity to tell her he knew it was in financial trouble.
All her life, she’d thought Southern men knew better than to kick a wasp’s nest. Clearly, Hunter West had missed that school tutorial, but, buddy, she’d gotten him up to speed real fast. She’d been so ticked that she’d knocked back enough sleepy tea to put an elephant down. Just thinking about it got her dander up.
“What are you mumbling about, sis?” Carlin asked her.
Reagan startled. “What?”
“You said something about wasps and elephants. I’m not entirely sure how those two things relate to one another.”
“Oh, nothing. Sorry. My thoughts drifted for a second. Now, tell me about that date.”
Reagan could imagine her sister hunkering down to give the whole scoop. More than likely, not only would Carlin be better at business, she’d be a pro at relationships too. Her little sister was young, cute, and way more popular in high school than Reagan could have ever thought of being.
More than once, Carlin had chastised Reagan for focusing on her failures rather than her successes. Only, Carlin didn’t understand. Her business was thriving. She was doing well. It was easier not to compare when everything was perfect.
As Reagan listened to her sister, she sent up a silent prayer in the hopes that maybe someone or something was listening. All she wanted was to taste a little success. It didn’t even have to be perfect success. Just…a nibble. The cookie could be hard on the top and burned on the bottom. She wasn’t asking for much. Just a small jaunt through that bright green plush grass that seemed to always stay on the other side of the fence.
Chapter 3
Hunter had knocked a few times, and then he’d figured Reagan hadn’t heard him, so he let himself in. He’d stepped into the kitchen quietly then heard her say, “It’s a foreclosure notice.”
It bugged him that he felt like a vulture circling in wait for the place to take its last breath. He hated how dire her situation was, but he’d learned early on that making things personal only led to complications. This was just business. If he didn’t buy it, someone else would. Who could say they wouldn’t tear it to the ground and put up a beachfront condo? At least he wasn’t doing that.
When he realized she was having a private conversation, he’d quietly stepped back out. There was no reason to let her know he’d overheard her conversation and embarrass her. He might be a shrewd businessman, but he was also a gentleman.
While he waited for her to finish her phone call, he put his back to the door, took a deep breath, and let the salty breeze wash over him. This was peace. All he needed was some sweet tea, a warm woman, and a swing, and this would be his definition of paradise.
As he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a board creaked. Another thing he mentally added to the list of things to fix. When he no longer heard the murmur of Reagan’s voice, he paused a minute and then knocked again.
“Hello?” Reagan said as she opened the door. A second later, the yellow glow of a porch light flickered to life.
He blinked as his eyes adjusted. “Hey, Reagan.”
“Hunter.” The sharp tone held a warning that he needed to tread carefully.
