Better than Home (Sunset Siesta #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

HARPER

I inhaled the scent of raw lumber and possibility while ignoring the undercurrent of pure panic.

Bungalow number four—full of potential, unfinished, and one of the reasons I couldn’t sleep at night.

The gutted space represented everything wonderful and terrifying about Siesta Sunset’s resort renovation—opportunities wrapped in financial risk, dreams entangled with practical nightmares.

“Come on.” I led my older brother Eli down the unfinished hallway, stepping carefully around a stack of drywall. “I wanted you to see the progress before your shift.”

Sunlight streamed through the empty window frames, illuminating swirling dust motes and highlighting the gleaming light-gauge steel studs where walls would eventually stand.

The exposed concrete subfloors echoed our footsteps, awaiting the hardwood flooring that would transform this skeleton into the luxury beachfront bungalow of my imagination.

And Chase Ashworth’s meticulous designs.

“Progress, huh?” Eli ran his hand along an exposed steel beam, his deep indigo eyes dancing. “It looked like a hurricane hit, and then someone sent in a wrecking crew for good measure.”

I shot him a look. “That steel framing you’re lovingly stroking isn’t just for show, Eli. Chase designed it to withstand hurricanes. It’s called in progress. Two weeks ago, this was just a concrete foundation.”

“Ah, yes, the famous Harper Coleridge optimism.” He grinned, the same effortless smile that charmed tourists into booking his dive excursions.

My brother had perfected the sun-kissed beach bum look—tousled dark blond hair, perpetual tan, and an easy, humorous confidence that made everyone instantly comfortable.

Today, he wore board shorts and a faded Sunset Siesta Dive Shop T-shirt, already dressed for his upcoming class.

I gestured toward where the bed would eventually be. “The windows will face the ocean. The bathroom plumbing is starting. And look—” I pointed to the far wall. “That’s where the private deck will extend, with steps down to the beach. Or something like that. Chase is still working on the design.”

Eli whistled low. “Fancy. I’m still getting used to the idea of our little family resort going all premium on us.”

“We have to evolve or die.” The weight of my general manager responsibilities settled on my shoulders like a lead balloon. “The Florida Keys might be paradise, but Sunset Siesta can’t survive on nostalgia and charm alone anymore.”

“Especially when the charm includes leaky roofs and air conditioners from the Reagan era.”

I let out a wry laugh. “Tell me about it. I spent an hour yesterday placating the Hendersons in room twenty after their AC died. Again.”

The resort’s situation wasn’t exactly dire, but it wasn’t far off.

Our ancestors had built something special here on Dove Key, but after Dad’s disappearance fifteen years ago, Mom had struggled to keep things afloat.

Now that she was stepping back, the responsibility fell mostly to me to keep the family legacy from crumbling beneath waves of deferred maintenance and outdated amenities.

Eli kicked at a scrap of wood. “You doing okay, sis? You’ve been looking tired.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Not in a bad way,” he amended quickly. “Just in a ‘my sister is trying to run a struggling resort while single-parenting a kindergartner’ kind of way.”

I sighed, leaning against a half-constructed wall. “It’s been intense. The construction crew hit an unexpected framing issue in bungalow two yesterday, which means more delays and probably more money.”

“And the amazing nephew?” Eli’s face softened.

A mental snapshot of my son flashed through my mind—his bright blue eyes always searching, golden brown hair a wild mess no matter what I did.

And his energy? Boundless. “Finn’s great.

Except he announced last night that he has a part in the school play, which means costume-making falls to me, his hopelessly uncrafty mother. ”

“Sweet. What’s the play?”

“Something about ocean conservation. He’s a parrotfish.”

“A parrotfish?” Eli’s expression brightened. “Perfect! That kid’s already obsessed with everything underwater. Must be genetic.”

“He wants blue and green scales and a rainbow tail.”

“Which is only right, you know.”

“The play is the kindergarten class’s major project. It’s not for several months, so at least I have some time to work on my costume-making skills.”

“Tell you what,” Eli said. “I’ll help with the costume. I can be crafty when proper uncle duties motivate me.”

I smiled, genuinely grateful. “You’re the best.”

“Of course I am,” he replied with a mock bow. “I’ll be proud uncle number one in the audience, front and center, embarrassing him with excessive applause.”

The worry lines between my eyebrows relaxed.

This was Eli’s gift—making everything more manageable with his easy confidence and humor.

Where I carried the weight of responsibility, Eli navigated life with a light touch.

It had driven me crazy when we were younger, but now I appreciated his counterbalance to my constant stress.

Though it still surprised me that he’d recently found the love of his life in our straitlaced, laser-focused accountant.

They balanced each other and Jules had recently moved in with Eli.

He studied my face for a moment, then his expression shifted subtly. “So… back to the disaster area. Is my best friend making your life hell?”

And there was the other reason I couldn’t sleep at night.

Chase Ashworth, award-winning architect, my brother’s best friend since forever, and now—through a series of events that still baffled me—our family’s business partner in this massive renovation project. Both Eli and Chase were a year older than me at thirty-five.

“Chase is doing precisely what we wanted him to do.” I kept my voice deliberately neutral. “His designs are amazing, and he’s been incredibly patient with our budget constraints.”

“But…”

“No but,” I insisted. “The fact that he invested his own money into becoming a partner still feels like a small miracle. Without him, I’d be even more stressed about how much this is costing.”

Eli looked skeptical. “That doesn’t answer my question about whether he’s making your life hell.”

I sighed. “It’s complicated.”

Like the fact that every time Chase walked into a room, my heart did this irritating flutter thing that had no place in a professional relationship. Or how his quiet confidence and focus made me simultaneously calmer and more flustered. Or the way his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that—

“Define complicated,” Eli prompted, interrupting my inappropriate mental tangent.

“Chase has a very expansive vision,” I explained. “Sometimes that vision requires materials that cost more than the original budget for these bungalows. We debate. We compromise. It’s the normal back-and-forth of any project.”

“And?”

“And nothing.”

Eli’s eyebrow arched knowingly. “Harper, I’ve known Chase since we were kids. He can be intense when he cares about something. And he definitely cares about this project.”

“He’s been a rock,” I insisted, perhaps a bit too forcefully. “Professional. Supportive. Understanding.”

“Glad to hear it. If he steps out of line, let me know. I’ll pound him to smithereens. Or send him diving with concrete shoes.”

That made me laugh, bless him. “At least wait until we’re finished with the renovations to do him in, okay?”

He hesitated, studying my face with unexpected seriousness. “You know I’m here if you need anything, right? Even if it’s just to take Finn for an evening so you can decompress.”

The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard, and a rush of gratitude for my eccentric, loyal family suffused me. “I know. Thank you.”

I turned back to survey the unfinished space. In my mind’s eye, I could picture Chase’s designs coming to life—the clean lines, the natural materials, the careful balance of luxury and authenticity. He understood what I wanted for the resort even before I could articulate it.

A complicated flutter ran through my chest. I couldn’t deny Chase had become an unexpected highlight of my chaotic days, with his quiet confidence and dry humor.

That somehow over the years, he’d gone from being Eli’s brainy, meticulous friend to a successful, distractingly handsome architect.

And since the resort remodel had begun four months ago, I swore he even smelled better, a combination of cedar and drywall that shouldn’t have been as enticing as it was.

But my life was complicated enough already.

Besides, Chase had never given any indication that he thought of me as anything other than his best friend’s sister and now his business partner.

Just then, the man himself walked through the unfinished doorway with a rolled set of documents tucked under his arm.

Unlike my sawdust-covered self, Chase managed to be utterly composed amid the construction chaos—dark hair neatly styled, a crisp button-down with sleeves rolled to reveal those distracting forearms, and slacks that were somehow immune to the dust coating everything else in the building.

His hazel eyes, flecked with gold and green in the morning light, immediately found mine across the unfinished space. His gaze made my heart stutter in my chest. It held a quiet intensity reserved for buildings, blueprints, and occasionally, disconcertingly, for me.

“There you are.” His voice carried that calm steadiness that had anchored our project through every crisis. “I was looking for you at the main office.”

“Harper’s giving me the grand tour of Sawdust Palace,” Eli chimed in, crossing the room to greet his friend.

Chase’s mouth twitched at one corner. “You like it? I call this style Contemporary Destruction. Very avant-garde.”