The Sweetheart Secret Read Online Free Page B

misunderstanding.”
    She eyed him, her pale blue eyes squinting against the sun. “You should take a dose of your own medicine. Eat more broccoli, drink less bourbon, and most of all, don’t be afraid of love. Because in the end, it’s sure as hell better than the alternative.”
    He arched a brow. “What’s the alternative?”
    â€œDying alone, drooling into your Wheaties.” She grinned, then patted him on the arm. “See, Doc? It could always be worse.”

Two

    When Daisy Barton was five years old, her mother had enrolled her in kindergarten, dropped her off in front of the James K. Polk Elementary School, and told her to be a good girl. Daisy had gone inside the building alone, scared, and overwhelmed, wearing the hand-me-down red plaid jumper and white buckle shoes she had chosen with such care that morning. Before the heavy metal-and-glass door shut behind her, she heard the high-pitched squeal of tires against the pavement, and her mother was gone. Off to pursue needlepoint in the Ozarks or meditation in the desert, or whatever lark had captured Willow Barton’s attention that month.
    Aunt Clara had been the one to pick Daisy up at the end of the day, to wipe away Daisy’s tears, and to mend the tear in Daisy’s dress. Aunt Clara had filled in as Daisy’s mother, in between Willow’s “adventures.” Aunt Clara, long married to Willow’s brother Lou, had been the closest thing Daisy had to a maternal figure, and when she’d moved away from Jacksonville and down to Rescue Bay for a few years, Daisy had felt as if her right arm was severed.
    She’d called Aunt Clara regularly, and spent one summer here at the Hideaway Inn, but missed those family ties something fierce. Even from miles away, Aunt Clara had been the voice of reason and support, a steady foundation for Daisy to stand on when her life got too crazy. Which was like every other week.
    So when Aunt Clara had asked something of Daisy in return, there’d been no doubt that Daisy’s answer would be yes.
    The problem? Daisy had no clue how big of a task Aunt Clara’s request would be. Or how impossible it would be to bring to fruition. Or how Colt Harper would become the one monkey wrench she hadn’t expected.
    Two weeks ago, Aunt Clara had laid in that big white hospital bed in Jacksonville, taken Daisy’s hand in one of hers, Cousin Emma’s in the other, and said, “I only ask one thing of you two girls. That you don’t let my family legacy crumble into the sea. It’s time I faced facts. I’m too sick and too old to get back to running the B&B, so I’m handing you girls the keys.”
    And now Daisy was here in Rescue Bay, and hoping that if she got started, Emma would follow along. Turned out, though, that Aunt Clara’s “family legacy” needed more than just a spit and polish to get it back up and running. Nine years of being empty had damaged the wooden building housing the Hideaway Inn. The building had suffered serious storm and saltwater damage, along with plumbing and electrical issues, according to the contractor she’d had look at the place. Which meant money—something that wasn’t growing on trees or sprouting leaves in Daisy’s paltry wallet.
    With Aunt Clara already financially strapped and Emma refusing to have anything to do with the inn, that left Daisy to come up with a miracle. For the first time in Daisy’s life, she needed someone else’s help to get what she wanted. Specifically, Colt Harper’s help.
    If your husband signs off on the loan,
the banker had said,
I could get this approved without a problem.
    The banker apparently didn’t know Colt. Or know that anything between her and Colt came wrapped with a double-knotted problem bow. Which was what had had her blasting into his office like a pissed-off hornet, because she’d seen the divorce papers and panicked.
    Without