Chapter 30
THIRTY
Waking up between Nash and Hunter is like being cocooned in warmth. I blink sleepily, noticing the bright light filtering through the van’s curtains. A quick glance at the radio clock shows it’s after eight a.m.
I never sleep this late.
“I missed my run,” I mumble, more to myself than to them.
Nash stirs, his voice muffled by sleep. “No run today. North’s stuck home with Lio.”
Hunter chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. I lean back to look at him. He gazes back, his eyes barely open, heavy with sleep.
“Happy birthday,” I say again, leaning in for a small peck on his lips.
He’s so surprised he tenses up, a faint blush colors his cheeks, and his heartbeat quickens under me.
“What are you doing today?” I ask Hunter. “Is there a party planned?”
He shudders lightly. “God, no. But I’d love to have breakfast with you.”
Feeling a pang of guilt for not having a gift, I jump at the opportunity. “Sure, I could buy us breakfast at Tally’s café.”
Hunter shakes his head. “No, I’m going to get us something. I’ll text you where to meet, okay?”
“So, not the café?”
“Nope.” He grins, gently pushing a stray hair out of my face, his eyes soft on me.
Nash yawns, stretching. “Lucky ones. I need to go to work, or my new boss will fire me. I’m already late,” he jokes.
I turn to Hunter. “Don’t you need to work?”
He shrugs. “Why be the boss if you can’t take a day off on your birthday?”
We all reluctantly get up, and Nash and Hunter dress quickly. Nash hugs me from behind, nuzzling my neck, while Hunter gently kisses my nose.
“I’ll text you when it’s ready, but give me an hour?” Hunter asks.
“Sure.” I smile, thinking of the extra time that gives me to freshen up.
“See you later,” Hunter calls out as he leaves the van.
Nash lingers, whispering against the side of my head, “Text me later, okay? I love you.”
As they leave, my heart swells with an unfamiliar optimism. Maybe, just maybe, this could work, leaving only the what to do with North and Saylor.
Piece of cake.
This is where Hunter wants me to meet him?
The large, red brick building appears slightly industrial. I feel a mix of curiosity and confusion as I stand before it. He texted me to come here, right behind the shipyard of Jones & Sons, but the place appears deserted. No signs of a café or restaurant, just an empty, unused building.
As I’m about to text Hunter, almost certain I’m in the wrong place, the door swings open. Hunter stands there, his smile warm and inviting. “Hey, glad you found it. Come in,” he beckons.
I step inside, finding myself in a vast space.
The concrete floor, the unadorned walls, and the doors at the back give it a raw, unfinished look.
Yet, it’s bright and welcoming. My eyes are drawn to a large window with a view of the ocean and a wide windowsill beneath it.
A to-go mug, an energy drink, and what appear to be croissants are neatly arranged on it.
“What is this place?” I ask, taking in the surroundings. It smells citrusy fresh, like someone just cleaned.
Hunter’s hand finds the small of my back, guiding me toward the windowsill. Then he opens the energy drink for me, handing it over. “Sorry, the plan to show you this wasn’t spontaneous, but doing it right now was. I only had time to clean up a bit.”
I sip the drink, a contented breath escaping my lips. Hunter sips from his to-go mug. “Coffee?” I inquire, wanting to learn more about him and what he likes to drink in the morning.
I don’t really know much about him at all, and it bugs me.
He nods. “Yeah, though I only like it with a lot of sugar and cream.” He offers me the mug, and I take a tentative sip, humming in delight.
Sugary goodness.
“I might become a coffee drinker if it always tastes like this.” I laugh.
Hunter smiles and gestures around the room. “What do you say?”
“To what?” I shrug, still unsure. “What is it?”
“What do you think it is?” He grins, stepping closer.
“An empty space?” I ask hesitantly.
“A little more imagination, Ms. Wilson.” He chuckles.
Setting down his mug, he takes my drink and places it back on the windowsill.
He gently takes my hand and pulls me to him, kissing my forehead before he leads me to the middle of the room.
He stands behind me, placing his hands on my hips.
“Imagine this…” he begins, his tone filled with excitement and his whispering in my ear sending a shiver down my back.
“Over there…” He points over my shoulder to one corner.
“That could be your main work area… lifts, tools, everything you need. And here…” he turns us slightly, “… a waiting area for clients, comfortable chairs, and a small coffee station.”
I… what?
“In the back are two office spaces,” he adds, pointing to the door.
“Hunter,” I protest, tone low, but he ignores me.
“And maybe on that wall, you could display some of your favorite car models or achievements.”
Even if I don’t want to, I can’t help but imagine what he’s painting. The space starts to fill with his vision. I can almost hear the buzz of tools, the soft music playing in the background, the scent of coffee mingling with the smell of cars being brought back to life.
“This could be yours, Sloan. Your shop, your dream. Yours,” Hunter whispers in my ear, stroking my upper arms.
“I can’t afford this,” I say, stepping back to face him, my tone edged with cold reality.
He smiles, undeterred. “This used to be Jones and Sons’ headquarters. We merged the buildings for efficiency, leaving this one empty for years. It’s ours but unused. You’d be doing us, the whole town, really, a favor by bringing it to life. We need a good shop nearby.”
His offer ignites a flicker of hope, but I’m quick to douse it. “Hunter, you can’t just hand me a building like this. It’s too much. A shop isn’t just a present. And it’s your birthday. I should be the one giving you something, not the other way around.”
He laughs, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and heat.
“Oh, you gave me a very nice present last night.” I blush, but he just continues, “And I’m not just giving it to you.
Think of it as an investment. You’re gifting me an opportunity.
I’ll provide the location and resources to start, holding a…
let’s say, forty percent stake in the business.
You work with what I provide until you turn a profit.
Then, you can buy me out. I’m confident you won’t need more than five years. After that, it’s all yours.”
“Why would you do this? It feels wrong. I could go to a bank. Handle it myself.” I hear the childish defiance in my voice and wince internally.
Hunter’s expression softens as he steps closer, gently lifting my chin with his hand. “You could do it on your own, sure, but you shouldn’t have to. Not anymore.”
His words stir something in me, a mix of gratitude and unease. “You know what people will say if you buy your girlfriend a shop?” I retort, crossing my arms defensively.
The amusement in his eyes flickers, his face lighting up with a grin, his voice a tender murmur. “Girlfriend, huh?” I find myself caught off guard and just bite my lip.
Wow, Sloan, you idiot.
Hunter gently frees my lip from my teeth with his thumb, leaning in for a soft, lingering kiss.
As he pulls back, he whispers with a grin,“ I thought we already agreed on fuck them all…” He pauses, giving me another quick peck.
“Besides, I’m not buying my girlfriend a shop.
I’m investing in a brilliant business idea. ”
“And North is okay with you just giving me this?” I motion around myself, trying to protest some more.
“Again, it’s not a handout. And you would be surprised what North’s willing to do for you.”
A strange sensation flutters in my chest, like butterflies tumbling in a storm. It’s overwhelming, almost nauseating.
“Why do you look like you’re going to be sick?” Hunter’s concern is evident, his brow furrowed. “This is a good thing, Sloan.”
I break away from his hold, walking over to the window. Staring out, I grapple with the enormity of the offer. This is a good thing, a chance of a lifetime. But it feels almost too good, teetering on the edge of too good to be true.
My heart and throat tighten, but I force myself to turn and speak. “I’m scared,” I admit, my voice quivering. “Terrified that all of this is just temporary. You promised once you’d always want me, and then…”
Hunter’s expression softens into one of understanding as he approaches me. He knocks on the sturdy brick wall. “Does this look temporary to you?” His voice is gentle yet firm. “This building is older than both of us combined.”
“Hunter,” I murmur, my gaze dropping to my feet.
“I know my promises might not mean much to you right now, and that’s fair,” he tells me earnestly.
“But I swear, what happened before will never happen again. We’ll pay a lawyer, draft a contract, and set it up just how you want.
We can even include a clause that if I fuck up, you receive one hundred percent of the business, no payback needed.
I don’t care about the money or this space.
What I care about is you, your dreams, and making you happy. ”
“I don’t know if I can ever just be happy. I’m a mess. I have trauma, insecurities… the ghost thing. Every time something good happens, I’m ready to run or find the flaw in it. Do you really want all that? All that struggle?” My voice is barely above a whisper.
Hunter’s smile is tender and full of warmth. He cups my cheek gently. “You can’t have rainbows without a little rain.”
“But I’m not just a little rain, Hunter. I’m a storm, and you’ve had more than enough storms in your life.” Tears well in my eyes, threatening to spill over.
Hunter’s gaze holds mine, unwavering, and his fingers twine in my hair. “I would choose your thunder, storm, and rain over anyone else’s sunshine.”
My lips meet hers in a kiss that feels like a promise, a vow to weather whatever storms may come together.