Page 7 of Meet Me at Sunset Cove (Jonathon Island #5)

The sun dipped beneath the horizon, pulling the blue from the sky, as evening fell on Port Joseph.

Hunter sat in the bed of his truck, the cold glass of the window behind him soothing against his neck.

The distant horn of the approaching ferry barely registered as he stared at the envelope in his hands.

With a deep breath, he opened it and began to read.

The Barrett house is held within the Barrett Family Living Trust, with the oldest generation — that would be his dad— acting as trustee … Followed by a bunch of legal jargon. Hunter skipped to the section about selling the house.

The property holder has the right to sell the property, with the proceeds to be distributed among family members or used for other purposes specified by the trust, only if (any of the following):

The next generation hasn’t met the conditions outline section II of the trust by the end of their thirtieth year.

The upkeep of the property becomes financially unfeasible for the trust.

There are no eligible heirs in the next generation.

Hunter’s pulse quickened. By the end of his thirtieth year. He’d be turning thirty-one in a matter of weeks. There was still time. He flipped to Section II and scanned the conditions.

Trust stipulates that the house must be passed down to the next generation —i.e., himself and his brothers— when they get married, so long as the following conditions are met:

The next generation member must be at least twenty-five years old— at least he had that one in the bag.

They must demonstrate financial stability and the ability to maintain the property— and he could check that one off the list.

Hunter read the final condition and felt all warmth seep out of him.

They must be married or engaged to be married within six months of receiving the deed to the house.

Of course. Married. Because who wouldn’t want to marry into the Bad Luck Barrett Family?

* * *

Daisy leaned against the cherrywood bar at Martha’s, a diner she had learned was not only the local favorite for food, but also for gathering, loitering, and all-around small-town living.

A handful of townsfolk occupied several booths along the green-tiled wall opposite the bar, including Augo, who sat with another older gentleman.

The two of them made a show of heckling every person who stepped inside the diner.

It seemed to be the only rowdy spot on the whole island.

“You boys settle down, or I’ll make you pay your tab.” Vera, the waitress who’d served Daisy not once, but all three times she’d eaten there since yesterday morning, said.

“You don’t scare me!” called Augo with a chuckle.

“She scares me!” That from Augo’s friend, sitting across from him.

Vera’s smile settled easily into the lines of her face. “At least Roger has some sense to him.”

Daisy chuckled to herself at their conversation and took another bite of her meatloaf slider. It was easily the best thing she’d had in months, maybe even years.

With her free hand, she scrolled through the comments on the surprisingly successful livestream. Who knew getting trapped inside that old house would capture the attention of so many people?

@ParkzFam: That house is GORGEOUS! Can’t wait to see what you do with it!

@VintageGirlie: Those original hardwood floors Please tell me you’re keeping them!

@User8978: That sunroom is to die for. I need one just like it!

The overwhelmingly positive response should have lifted her spirits.

But she was back where she started. No house.

No prospects. No career. Just a failure with an agent.

That project should have been exactly what she needed to restart her HGTV career and prove to the network execs that she still had what it took to captivate an audience.

She winced against the sting in her throat as she took in the amount of comments asking about Logan.

@NorthshoreSandi: Where’s Logan? Is it true you two broke up?

@Nami8853: I was rooting for you guys

@bluebird37: Is it true you caught him cheating?

@GabbyGabi: I heard it was the other way around

Apparently, stories were already spinning about their breakup. It was no surprise.

Everything had happened so quickly she hadn’t had time to process the breakup. She’d really thought they were the real thing…She and Logan. Thought that he’d been gearing up to propose.

She should be heartbroken.

She should be burning pictures and slashing tires, or whatever it was you did to cheaters nowadays.

But if she was being completely honest with herself, the only thing she really felt was relief.

What did that say about her?

She popped a fry into her mouth and scrolled further, letting the comments distract her.

@CraftyKatie: Forget about Logan, can we talk about that contractor? The chemistry between you two was

Daisy’s brow furrowed. Did they mean Hunter?

@Malawimamma: The way that guy looked at you when he fixed the door…girl, love at first sight!

@Kelsiewiththekid: Please tell me Cutie Contractor is going to be a regular on this renovation!

@PosieDarling: I ship it already! Daisy + Mystery Man 4ever!

Heat crept up Daisy’s neck. She hadn’t realized the camera had captured that moment. Her mind flashed back to Hunter’s face when he’d opened the door, the shock and…something else in his eyes. Something that had made her chest flutter.

What her followers hadn’t seen was that “cutie contractor” turn into the world’s biggest jerk about two seconds later.

Daisy rolled her eyes and set the phone down.

“Sorry guys, that’s one ship that’ll never set sail.

” They’d already tested those waters. No, no matter how cute he was, with his chocolate-brown hair and dark eyes, those long lashes that had made her melt time and time again, she wasn’t going to fall for Hunter Barrett again.

But at least she could appreciate the little boost in engagement she’d gotten thanks to him.

She reached for her drink just as Vera swooped in, snatching it up onto her tray before setting down a replacement. “Pardon my reach, sweetie.” Her eyes hitched on Daisy’s open screen. “Is that the Barrett house?”

“Hmm?” Daisy replied, still caught on thoughts of Hunter. “Oh, yeah…I was touring it this morning.”

Vera brows rose. “Oh really?”

“Yeah.” Daisy ran her hands over the fresh condensation on her glass. “The realtor I was with said it might be for sale.” She watched the water bead up and fall. “Turns out she was wrong.”

“You should count yourself lucky,” came a shout from across the room. Daisy jumped, not realizing the old coots had been listening to the conversation. Roger gave a purse-lipped nod. “House is bad luck!”

Vera shot him a look of disapproval, her red lips pressing into a tight line. “It is not.”

“Sure it is.” Roger gestured to his friend across the booth. “Augo, tell ’em.”

Augo glanced between his friends, the tiebreaker. “Well, I don’t like to gossip…but they do call it the Bad Luck Barrett House for a reason.”

Daisy’s brows shot up. “The Bad Luck Barrett House?”

“Sure!” Roger said, as though confirming the sky is blue.

“There’s not a person on the island who hasn’t heard one thing or another about something bad that happened to that house.

” He took a long drink of his beer, savoring his rapt audience of one: Daisy.

“I heard, back in the thirties, they had a party at the house with guests from the Grand.” Roger leaned out of the booth.

“Chandelier fell right out of the ceiling and almost killed Franklin D. Roosevelt.”

“Oh stop!” Vera said, waving the story away. “Franklin D. Roosevelt never stayed on island.”

“You don’t know that!” Roger’s eyes were alight with mischief. He turned toward Augo, dragging his friend back into the conversation.

“I don’t know about FDR,” Augo said carefully, “but I do know the house has had some rough times.”

“Been hit by lightning.” Roger lifted up two bony fingers. “Twice.”

“Twice?” Daisy echoed, horrified.

Vera set her tray down on the bar top and slid onto the green leather barstool beside Daisy. “Don’t let that scare you away,” she said gently, a smile sliding into the corner of her mouth. “It might be called the Bad Luck Barrett House now, but it used to be called the Honeymoon House.”

Daisy blinked in surprise. “Well, that sounds a lot nicer.”

“Doesn’t it?” Vera said warmly. “It’s been passed down generation to generation. Gifted from father to his son on his wedding day.” She shot the boys a scathing look and returned her attention. “That’s how Joe Barrett got it. It’s a shame he wants to sell it.”

Daisy felt a pang of guilt. That was such a beautiful notion. A family home, filled with history and love. She could see why Hunter didn’t want to lose it.

“Probably why he wants to sell it too,” Roger cut into her thoughts. “Not one good thing happened to that family since the day Joe and Lisa said, ‘I do.’”

Vera’s expression shifted from warm to serious in a heartbeat. “That’s enough.”

Augo and Roger straightened like a pair of children being reprimanded by a parent.

Daisy cleared her throat, sensing the conversation being shut down. “Well, thank you all for…all that.” Nailed it. Way to make things less awkward. “I think I’ll be heading back to California tomorrow, so I should probably head out. Throw my things together.”

She paid for her meal quickly, before she could get roped into another controversial conversation, and stepped out of the diner.

A deep knot burrowed into her chest. She’d really thought…

when she saw that house…maybe God really did have plans for her.

But then again, when it came to things that mattered—her job, her heart—she really couldn’t afford to leave them up to the Big Guy anyway.

It was a blueprint for failure. So, maybe it was for the best. The house was beautiful, but it needed a lot of work.

“Maybe it’s time to cut my losses,” she muttered to herself. “Start fresh back in California.”