Page 15 of Meet Me at Sunset Cove (Jonathon Island #5)

He paused, letting his words sink in. “Society tells us we are the sum of what we do in life. Our jobs, our accomplishments, our social media presence—it’s all supposed to define who we are.

But you know what? God is here to tell us that we’re so much more than that.

” He leaned forward, his hands gripping the sides of the pulpit.

“And thank goodness for that! Because if who we are was determined solely by the things we did, we’d all be in for a nasty surprise. ”

A ripple of laughter spread through the congregation. Daisy shifted in her seat, her shoulder brushing Hunter’s.

“Think about it,” Pastor Arnie said, his voice softening. “If our worth was based on our actions alone, on our successes and failures, our good deeds and our mistakes—where would that leave us? We’d all fall short. Every single one of us.”

“Fortunately for us, God’s grace is sufficient. He doesn’t tally up our good works. He doesn’t compare them against the saints, or the celebrities, or even our neighbors. He gives life we don’t deserve, out of a love we could never earn. Just because.”

The pastor’s eyes landed on Daisy, and she felt her breath hitch.

It wasn’t a foreign concept to her. Sure, for God so loved the world…

But when it came down to reality, people always expected something.

And frankly, that was a little easier to handle.

There were social transactions she could follow.

But when you pull works out of the equation of faith, you’re left trusting in God’s grace.

Hoping that His love will still be there when you fall short.

No thank you. Daisy was happy with her terms and conditions.

“Today we’re going to continue our series on Ephesians, with a glimpse at the message behind Ephesians 2:8-9. Let’s open our Bibles…”

Daisy settled back and listened to the rest of message, but the words were like writing in the sand, each carefully crafted point washed away by waves of doubt.

When the sermon was over, she and Hunter stepped out of the church into the midmorning sun.

Daisy lifted a hand to shade her eyes, turning to her pseudo-fiancé. “So, what’s next?”

Hunter quirked an eyebrow. “Now you meet the rest of the Barrett Boys.”

* * *

Hunter’s truck pulled up to the modest ranch-style house on the outskirts of Port Joseph. He let out a tense breath, and Daisy noted the slight white of his knuckles against the wheel.

“Everything okay?” she asked when he strung a hand through his hair.

He gave a gruff nod and unbuckled. “I’m fine.”

He hopped out of the truck and came around for her door. He extended a hand to help her out, but he seemed miles away as he led her to the door.

They stepped up to the welcome mat that read ‘Go on now, git!’ and Hunter suddenly turned to her, his expression serious. “We’re Lions fans.”

Daisy frowned, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “Okay?”

“But more importantly, we hate the Packers. You see even a flash of green and yellow on that screen, you should be booing and tossing popcorn. Got it?”

Daisy let out a laugh and then, “You’re serious?”

“Of course I am.” Hunter’s expression remained stoic. “You’ll never convince them we’re in love if you don’t take this very seriously.”

Before she could respond, the door swung open. A man who must have been Hunter’s brother filled the doorway. He had the same chocolaty-brown hair, the same dark eyes, but where Hunter’s were dark and guarded, his were easygoing and light.

“Better late than never. Kickoff’s about to…” His words died off and a goofy smile slid across his five-o’clock shadow. “Well, who’d you bring us, Hunt?”

Hunter brushed past his brother, pulling Daisy along into the house, which entered directly into the living room.

The room was arranged around the large TV, which pictured the Detroit Lions facing off against the Packers.

Near an archway, leading to what looked like a dining area, a pair of men, who had to be twins, stood, blinking away matching looks of astonishment.

Seated in an overstuffed armchair in the corner, an older man sat up, craning his neck to get a look at her.

If the other men were Hunter’s brothers, based on resemblance, this man could only be his father.

He rose from his chair, easily matching Hunter’s height, with broad shoulders that spoke of years of physical labor.

His face was weathered, etched with lines and creases that told stories of a hard life.

His hair, likely once as dark as Hunter’s, now thin, was a salt-and-pepper mix, cut short and slightly messy, as if he’d just run his hand through it.

“Daisy, I’d like you to meet my dad, Joe.

” He pointed toward his dad, who gave a polite nod.

“And these are my brothers. This is Waylen.” He gestured toward the man who’d answered the door.

“That’s Jude.” He pointed to the slightly taller of the twins.

He smiled, nodding and lifting a cheesy nacho in what looked like cheers.

He, too, looked like Hunter, but taller, with a slight beard. “And lastly, Evan.”

“Always last.” Evan shook his head, his lips tilting in a crooked smile. It would have been difficult to tell the twins apart if not for Evan’s neatly trimmed hair.

“Dad, Waylen, Jude, and Evan”—Hunter threaded his fingers through hers, pulling her into his shoulder—“I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Daisy.”

* * *

Hunter leaned back on the couch, his arm draped around Daisy’s shoulder in his best attempt to be casual as the Lions made another fifteen-yard pass down the field.

To say he’d been surprised by how well they’d taken the news was an understatement.

Even now, as they sat watching the game, Hunter felt like everything could come crashing down any moment.

“Oh, come on! Are you blind? That was clearly interference!” his dad bellowed, gesturing wildly at the screen.

He was in rare form today, shouting at the TV with every flag, regardless of which player it had been thrown on, or which team was penalized.

It was clear who the real opponents were in his mind, and they were wearing stripes.

Jude and Evan had created a small smorgasbord of nachos, donuts, and drinks on the coffee table, and they were now lounging on the floor in front of the TV, chuckling at their dad’s outbursts.

And Waylen stood at the side of the room, arms crossed, scowling at every play, regardless of which team had possession.

Like father, like son. His initial reaction to the news had been a whooping bear hug tossed around Hunter’s shoulders, but it had been quickly swallowed up by suspicion until Daisy had told them the story of how she’d come to the island looking for a project for her show and had run into ‘the one who got away.’ Hunter wasn’t oblivious to the fact that it wasn’t exactly a believable story.

But then again, Waylen had been there when Daisy had been in the picture.

She’d been the whole picture. So maybe it wasn’t so hard to believe after all.

“Touchdown!” Daisy cried, jumping to her feet along with Hunter’s dad.

“Let’s go!” Waylen shouted, thumping his chest as he cheered at the screen.

Hunter remained quiet, hyperaware of Daisy’s presence as she settled back down beside him, her hand briefly squeezing his bicep. The touch sent his heart racing as he reminded himself once again that the whole thing was an act.

Daisy Decker was a character meant to make people love her. And he would not be fooled again.

“Halftime,” Jude said, clapping as he hopped to his feet.

“You ready, Daisy?” Evan reached out a hand to help her up.

Hunter tensed, immediately knowing what was coming. “She doesn’t have to, guys.”

Waylen raised a brow. “I think you should let her decide for herself, lover boy.”

Daisy looked between them, her beautiful doe eyes clearly curious. “Ready for what?”

Joe chuckled as he rose from his chair. “Halftime backyard football.” He winked, reaching for her hand as though he already knew what she was going to say.

Her eyes lit up with that familiar excitement of hers. “I’m in!”

“Oh, this is gonna be good,” Evan said, and he and Jude raced toward the back deck.

Twenty minutes later, Hunter crouched low, his eyes locked across the makeshift line of scrimmage. His opponent, five foot four, 120 pounds soaking wet, flashed a mischievous grin, and he rolled his eyes.

“Scared, Barrett?” Daisy taunted playfully, the scrunch in her nose as she gave him her best “game face,” smothering any shot she had at intimidation.

“Quaking,” he shot back.

Jude crouched beside her. “All right, you two, that’s enough. There’s no flirting in football.”

Hunter nodded accusingly toward his fiancée. “Tell that to your teammate!”

She gaped in exaggerated outrage. “I don’t know what you’re implying here! I’m one hundred percent in the game.”

“Yeah, yeah, just play,” Evan said, crouched to Hunter’s right.

On Daisy’s other side, Waylen snatched up the ball, starting the play, and Daisy took off down the yard.

Hunter backpedaled, keeping his eyes on her as she darted left, then right.

He had to admit, she was quick, even in those ridiculous boots.

Waylen, playing quarterback for their team, launched the ball in a perfect spiral.

Hunter saw it coming. He leaped, his fingers just grazing the ball as it sailed over his head. And Daisy snatched it out of the air with ease, spinning around to face him with a triumphant grin.

“Ohh! Another one for the dream team!” she called out, spiking the ball as she squared up against Hunter, the top of her head barely reaching his chin. “What’s the matter, Barrett? Can’t keep up with the pros?”

“As a reminder, we’re all Barretts here!” Waylen called from the distance, but they ignored him.

“Just warming up, Decker ,” Hunter said, his eyes narrowing on hers. She wanted a challenge? So be it.