Page 7 of Meet Me at Sunset Cove

Hunter turned, leaning his elbows on the edge of the boardwalk railing, switching the coffee to the hand that had grown cold. “You know Dad. He works too hard. I wish he’d take a break.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Miles poked.

Below, Mia Franklin caught his eye from the dock and gave him a wave, gesturing for him to come down and talk to her. “Hey, Miles, I wish I could catch up more, but it looks like Mia needs to talk to me.”

“No problem, let’s talk later.”

“Sure thing.” He hung up and strode down the dock as Mia made her way to meet him, two kids in tow. It was still hard to see an old friend, now a widow, managing on her own. Then again, she wasn’t on her own anymore. She and Cody Hart were getting pretty serious from the sound of it.

“Hey, Mia, what’s up?”

“Sorry to cut your call short. Was it important?”

“Nothing to worry about.” Hunter shrugged. “What’s going on?”

She released her son’s hand to brush a strand of dark hair behind her ear, and he dropped into a crouch, stalking the seagull a few feet behind them. “I was hoping you might ask your dad to give me a call. I couldn’t get through to him just now, but I have someone who’s interested in the house.”

Hunter frowned. “Interested?”

“Finn, honey, leave the bird alone.” Mia waved her son closer and turned her gaze back to Hunter. “Yeah, some designer. I told her where to find the house so she could take a look. But I think she’s looking to buy immediately, so I really need Joe to call me back.”

The pre-recorded announcement interrupted over the speakers. “On behalf of everyone at Jonathon Island, we’d like to thank you for coming to the island…”

Mia began ushering the children onto the ferry. “Come on, kids, time to go.” When Hunter made no move to follow, she paused, turning back toward him. “You’re not coming?”

“My first meeting’s not until two o’clock. I’ll catch the next one.”

The ferry pulled away and Hunter turned toward home.

No way he was letting someone take his house.

ChapterTwo

Daisy’s breath fogged the air as she continued hiking the long road encircling the island. Her frozen hand clutched her now ice-cold coffee cup, as though there was still a drop of warmth and it just needed to be squeezed out. In her other hand, her fingers were turning red with the cold as she held her phone, following the GPS toward her destination.

“It’s not a sure thing,” Mia had told her as she’d tapped the location into Daisy’s Google Maps. “But I know Joe’s been toying with the idea of selling for a while. And nobody nearby will touch the place, so you could probably get a bargain price for it.”

She handed the phone back over. “Anyway, it can’t hurt for you to at least see the house. Nobody’s lived there inyears.” She’d drawn the word out, planting a seed of doubt as to Daisy’s chances of reselling the place once it was done. Well, that and the little tidbit about nobody being willing to touch the place. But before she’d had a chance to inquire further, Mia was pointing her toward the road and pushing her on her way with promises to call and schedule a tour later.

And so there she was, hiking up the sloping hill that split off from the main road just behind the massive hotel, her weathered boots beating against the pavement.

A few locals on bikes waved politely as they whizzed by.

An actualhorseclopped past. And riding it was none other than the world-famous singer, Eli Noble. Daisy’d tried to play it cool as he passed, giving her a polite nod.

A wooden fence curved along the path, and trees rose on either side until they dissipated and gave way to the view beyond. Daisy stopped, her lips parting in surprise. The road overlooked the shores of Lake Huron, and it seemed to glitter for miles. The bright morning sun scattered gold among the wave as it finished its ascent. The wind carried the scent of fresh water and pine, and for once, the cold didn’t bite.

Daisy let out a soft breath, unable to take it all in in one glance.

Her cell phone pinged, her GPS indicating she’d reached her destination.

Daisy turned around.

“You’ll know it when you see it,” Mia had told her.

She was right.

On the hill behind her stood a well-aged two-story Queen Anne-style Victorian house. The ground level boasted a deep apron porch with stone-worked balustrades, and on the right, a weathered door overlooked the overgrown lawn, its stone walkway nearly lost to time. To the left stood a stunning three-story turret, its oval roof rising above the golds and reds of the tree line.

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