Page 19 of Meet Me at Sunset Cove (Jonathon Island #5)

Chapter Eight

With the success of House to Home so far, she was sure she could convince Hunter to add the sunroom to the renovation. After all, it was just one room.

Daisy’s boots crinkled against the tarp they’d laid on the freshly painted porch to keep it clean.

“Before you lecture me for being late,” Daisy called as she stepped into the house. “I think you should know that I…”

Her words trailed off at the emptiness of the foyer.

It wasn’t like Hunter to be late.

“Hunter?” she called, her voice carrying through the house.

She crossed the parlor, where their workstation—a table built from plywood and sawhorses—stood over a canvas tarp, protecting the floor. She set her notebook down and continued to the door at the other end, which was slightly ajar. Unlike the way Hunter had left it.

She pressed the door slightly, and it opened to reveal Hunter, sitting on the floor of the sunroom, his back against the rounded wall, arms resting on his knees. His dark hair hung over his eyes, casting them in a shadow—but not enough to obscure the weight of whatever was bothering him.

“Hey,” she said, still standing at the threshold of the room. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, his chest rising and falling in even breaths. His eyes lifted slowly, landing not on her, but on the scorched mantel against the outside wall. “Do you know why they call it the Bad Luck Barrett House?”

“No,” she lied, Roger’s words from the diner weeks back coming to mind. Not one good thing happened to that family since the day Joe and Lisa said “I do.” Daisy took a hesitant step into the room, quietly sitting down beside him. “Will you tell me?”

He flipped his phone in his fingers absentmindedly, his head resting against the wall. “When I was growing up, this house was the Barrett legacy. It held the history of every generation, all the way back to my great-great-grandparents. It was just ‘the Barrett house’ when I was growing up.

“But it had its history. It’s been struck by lightning, caught on fire, a collapsed roof line. Still, people didn’t start calling it bad luck until my family lived here.”

He slid one leg out, leaving the other for his elbow to rest on.

His eyes traveled the walls, as though trying to decide which memory to tell.

“My dad built this room, you know. For my mom. It used to end just here.” He pointed to a spot in the floor where the direction of the floorboards changed, marking the outline of the circular turret structure.

“She wanted a big family with lots of kids, and these old houses are so compartmental. She wanted somewhere we could all be together. So, one year as an anniversary gift, my dad opened it up and connected it to the old breakfast room. She loved this room…I used to see them dancing in here when I was a kid.”

Hunter sucked in a breath, his eyes returning to his hands as though the room was too much to take in.

“I was the youngest for a long time, until my mom finally managed to get pregnant again. I remember my parents were so excited. The whole town was. They decorated all of Main Street with blue and pink streamers the week my parents found out what they were having.”

Daisy felt an ache in her chest. She knew what was coming, if only because she’d met his family…All but his oldest brother, Miles.

“And I was almost ten when they went in for the eight-month appointment and there was no more heartbeat,” Hunter said, his voice growing hoarse. “My parents…they just never recovered.”

“That’s when they started calling it the Bad Luck Barrett House…” Daisy said, her voice close to a whisper.

Hunter shook his head. “They didn’t start calling it that until the boardwalk collapsed.”

Daisy frowned slightly, confused.

“My dad has a bad habit of throwing himself into his work as a way of avoiding life. So, when things got rough between him and Mom, he picked up whatever projects he could get…even ones he wasn’t prepared for.”

“Like a lakeside boardwalk…” Daisy added as the information clicked.

Hunter glanced over at her, his shoulder brushing hers as he nodded slightly.

“Anyway, my parents stuck it out for two years. During which time, Dad’s company picked up the new boardwalk project, even though they specialized in carpentry and luxury renovations.

They weren’t ready for that kind of project.

Dad should have brought in a specialist to consult, but he couldn’t afford it.

So he built it anyway, and he miscalculated the spacing for the lateral braces.

About a year later, the boardwalk collapsed.

Dad’s construction company took a major hit.

And to top it all off…the house was struck by lightning again. ”

Hunter let out a breath. “I remember that night like it was yesterday. Dad had been working late, spending most nights off island, sleeping in his truck so he could work twice the amount of jobs. I remember my mom sitting on the porch, watching the lightning over the lake.”

He licked his lips and went on. “I didn’t recognize it back then, but she was exhausted. She didn’t smile much anymore, but she was smiling that night. I went out to check on her and she asked me to sit with her, and I remember thinking that it felt nice, just sitting and watching the storm.

“That night I woke up to the loudest noise I’d ever heard.

Felt like the house might just split down the middle.

My mom came rushing in. Dragged me and my brothers out of bed and out of the house.

I remember standing in the street, waiting for the fire truck to arrive while smoke billowed from the house. This room.”

He sucked in a breath, the memory fading from his eyes. “Anyway, we stayed at the inn for a while, waiting for Dad to do repairs, but the damage was done.”

Daisy winced, but Hunter’s focus was back on the mantel, the focal point of his father’s gift of love for his mother. To the literal ashes of his childhood. And suddenly, her plans to renovate the room felt…wrong.

“And that’s when they started calling it the ‘Bad Luck Barrett House,” Daisy whispered.

“Mom couldn’t handle it. She couldn’t take the pitying looks, people walking on eggshells.

” Hunter flipped the phone between his fingers again.

“So, she packed up her bags and left. She told me it wasn’t worth being a Bad Luck Barrett if it meant she’d have to keep putting her life back together.

” He drew the words out in loose imitation of the memory.

“And just like that, our family fell apart.”

Hunter let his other leg slide out, his hands falling with the great weight of hurt into his lap.

“Hunter?” she asked, tears aching in her throat for him. “Did something happen?”

A sad smile played on his lips. He lifted the phone. “My mom called…” He let out a breath. “She wants me to come to her wedding.”

Through the window, a ray of light broke through the clouds, the warmth of it spilling into the room, reaching almost across, but not quite touching their feet.

“I haven’t talked to her in years,” he admitted.

“Not since my high school graduation. To be fair, she hasn’t reached out much either.

She tried a few times but…” He shook his head.

Paused a moment before going on. “Still…I guess I was still holding out hope that she’d come back,” he said, his voice thick.

Daisy felt the urge to reach out and take his hand. To pull him into her arms and hold him the way she wished she’d been held when her dad walked out. Because she knew where he was inside his head. She knew the nagging voice that told him he wasn’t good enough.

“I’m really sorry, Hunter” was all she could say.

“It’s okay.” He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall with an exhausted thump. “I don’t suppose you know any good stunt doubles I could hire to go to a stuffy wedding?”

Daisy snorted a laugh. “I don’t. But I know a fake fiancée who’d love to go with you.”

He gave her shoulder a playful nudge. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” she said softly.

Hunter turned to face her, his brows drawing together as his eyes searched hers. “I really wanted to stay mad at you,” he said quietly.

Daisy scrunched her nose. “That’s really too bad for you.”

And slowly, as they sat in that old house, the tension in his shoulders melted away.

And Daisy felt like something between them was changing.

The air between them felt magnetic, a force that drew them together. Hunter’s gaze dropped to her lips for a heartbeat, and she let herself lean that one breath closer, knowing somewhere inside her head that it was a terrible idea.

Her eyes fell shut when his fingers curled through her hair, drawing her in. And…

Daisy pulled back, placing a steadying hand on his chest as reality broke through her momentary lapse in judgment.

There were a hundred reasons not to kiss Hunter Barrett. Only one of which was the fact that their fake engagement was just that. Fake.

“We should…we should probably call it an early night,” she said, her shaky voice betraying her.

Hunter blinked, looking as dazed as she felt. “Right…yeah.”

He climbed to his feet, reaching out to help her up. His hands were warm and strong and—Daisy needed to get out of there. Like. Immediately.

“Okay, good talk. See you tomorrow,” she said, practically running for the door.

* * *

In what world had it seemed like a good idea to lean in for a kiss?

Hunter groaned, running a hand over the back of his neck as he tried to banish the mental image of Daisy’s shocked expression from his mind.

Closing his eyes, he breathed in the scent of coffee and donuts, anchoring himself in Good Day Coffee rather than the cold floor of the house, where Daisy had left him last night.