Sweetheart Cottage (Cranberry Bay #1) by Mindy Hardwick

her eyes. In the last week, she’d been everywhere looking for work. She’d gone to every real estate agent in all the surrounding beach towns. She stopped in at all the hotels in the area. She’d even asked at the Cranberry Bay Historic Train Depot if they might need a receptionist or ticket seller. But, the story was always the same. People would hire if they had more business. The real estate agents apologized, saying that second homes just weren’t selling right now. The beach town hotel owners apologized and explained they were recovering from a couple seasons of low occupancy due to a series of unfortunate summer storms and a faltering economy. They didn’t have money to pour into remodels of rooms and entryways. Her headache pulsed, and she gripped the edges of the park bench. Yesterday, she had visited the local bank and asked to open a home equity line of credit. But without a regular steady means of income, the bank declined her request.
    Rylee tightened her grip on the cold wooden slates. She wouldn’t give up. She couldn’t give up. There had to be something she could do.
    Rylee looked toward the row of two-story brick buildings that lined the riverfront walkway below the park’s hillside. She remembered that there had been a candy store when she was a child, and she had selected different types of fudge from the glass cabinets. Chocolate almond had been her favorite. She always tucked a small package into her suitcase to eat on the plane ride back to Vegas. Now, darkened windows and storefront signs missing letters marred the buildings. A light flickered on in a small office at the end of the building with a real estate agent sign in the front.
    Resolved, Rylee threw back her shoulders. If she couldn’t get a job and was unable to secure a home equity line of credit, it was time to face selling her grandmother’s home. The cost of the repairs could be taken out of the sale, or a buyer could be found for an “as-is” sale. She had to let go of her childhood dreams that her grandmother’s home was worth a lot of money. She doubted any real estate agent in Portland was going to be interested in her grandmother’s home. Rylee squared her shoulders and clenched her teeth. She’d have to use Bryan’s real estate services.
    Rylee headed down a narrow pathway leading out of the park and to the riverfront walkway. Raisin trotted beside her, his toenails clicking on the cement pavement and his tags jingling. A seagull circled above her and landed on the marina’s ramshackle office building.
    Rylee reached the last brick building and pushed open the small door. A steep and narrow staircase loomed in front of her. She grasped the banister and stepped up the stairs to a small door on the second floor. A “For Sale” sign rested against a wall. In large red lettering, it read “Cranberry Bay Real Estate. Bryan Shuster.” Raisin whined beside her and tried to turn around in the dark space.
    “It’s okay, bud.” Rylee petted the dog and reassured both the dog and herself that things were going to be okay. “We’re just going to take care of some business.” She wanted nothing more than to bolt.
    Suddenly, the door jerked open and Bryan stood in the doorframe. The light behind him cast a glow around his muscular frame, and his blue jeans hugged his muscular legs. A green sweater stretched across his broad chest, and the heat surged in Rylee’s face.
    “Can I help you?”
    “I’d like to list my grandmother’s home.” Rylee gripped Raisin’s leash and willed herself not to run. Her heart pounded in her chest. It’s just the sale of a house, she told herself, knowing full well that the sale of the house was not causing her surging emotions. It was the man standing in front of her.
    “Not a problem.” Bryan leaned against the doorframe. “We can get that done.” He smiled at her, sending her heart crashing to her ribs. “I wanted to talk to you anyway.”
    Rylee could do nothing but nod, too