Page 5 of Meet Me at Sunset Cove

“You know, the whole cops and donuts thing is a common misconception,” Waylen said, threading his hands behind his head as he leaned back again. “I’m more of a Danish guy myself.”

Hunter shot him a teasing glare over his shoulder. “How about you become an electrician guy, or I’m gonna start charging your full half of the rent?”

“Yeah yeah…”

Hunter cracked a smile, rolling his eyes.

Giving up on a nutritious breakfast, he snatched a bagel from the top of the fridge and popped it in the toaster.

“Speaking of appointments,” Hunter said, leaning back against the counter. “You said you’d help out at the Riverfront project tomorrow. Dad really can’t afford any delays, so don’t forget.”

Waylen appeared completely taken aback by the reminder. “What makes you think I’d forgotten?”

The bagels popped out of the toaster and Hunter spun to retrieve them, butter knife in hand. “Because one of the sticky notes you use to keep appointments ended up on the bottom of my shoe last night.”

Waylen shrugged. “So?”

“That, and you forgot to show up to the last two projects you agreed to help out with.” He finished slathering the bagel with butter, wrapped it in a napkin, and stuffed it into the pocket of his jacket. “I mean it, I don’t want the demo team giving me any dirty looks by association when you forget again.”

Waylen waved him off with a sheepish grin. “Thanks,Mom.”

“You joke, but maybe if you had a mom around, you’d know better than to put your feet up on my handcrafted hardwood table.” He pushed his feet aside again and picked up a stack of papers from the table, sliding them into his backpack. “You need anything from the mainland today?”

“I’ll survive,” Waylen replied, finishing his last bite of waffle.

Hunter gave a nod and checked his watch. Right on time. He’d have exactly forty minutes to catch the 10:15 ferry.

* * *

Hunter soaked in the morning light as he stepped out of Good Day Coffee with a warm cup of joe steaming into the air. Overhead, the sound of seagulls mixed with the lapping of water on the shore, and across the street, Jack, the town dog, was getting some morning affection from Dani Sullivan. She rose, giving him a wave as she stepped into the Tourism Bureau.

It was another beautiful day on the island.

Hunter made his way down Main Street, his eyes gazing over the wild blue of the water. The wind flicked at his hair as he rounded the corner at the end of the street and hurried up the hill. His boots creaked over the wooden ramp, leading up to the old post office building. The small, cream-colored house sat nestled on the corner with lilac trees, now past bloom, framing the walkway. A bell rang out as Hunter stepped inside.

“Morning, Hunter!”

“Morning, Roger,” Hunter replied, waving at the white-haired man behind the counter.

“Some exciting mail today!” the older man said, leaning over the desk to watch as Hunter opened his PO box.

“I keep trying to tell you, Rog.” Hunter slid the contents out of the small metal box and closed it back up. “You’re not supposed to look at people’s mail while you’re sorting it.”

Roger scoffed. “First of all, I’m too old to waste away of boredom. Second, it just jumped out at me.”

Hunter frowned. “What did?”

“See for yourself.” He rapped a knuckle against the counter and wandered back into the office.

Hunter sorted through the pile, not sure what he was looking for.

And then he did.

His address was written in gold cursive, with a floral stamp in the corner. A wax seal weighed it down, but that was nothing compared to the weight of the sender’s address.

Hunter’s heart jumped into his throat as he opened the envelope and pulled out the thick cardstock.

Lisa Sherman

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