Lighthouse Way (Huckleberry Bay 1)

Until you shove that loyalty in her face—the way Sarah did. Then, June is more likely to write a person off.

Not that I blame her. Sarah hurt us both.

She hurt everyone when she left, including Sarah’s younger brother, Scott.

But we took Scott under our wing. Despite some rocky moments, he’s doing well now and even owns his own home.

“I know Sarah did a lot of damage when she left,” I admit softly. “And I’m not making excuses for her. I’m just worried.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” June replies. “She’s just…busy. Now, I need to get started on some demo in here. And you can’t be in here because you’re not dressed right.”

“That’s what Wolfe said.”

“Sexy and smart.” June’s mouth relaxes into a playful smile. “That just doesn’t seem fair.”

“Well, if you’re sure you have this handled for now, I have some errands to run.”

“Go.” June waves me off, already focused on the job. “Have fun. I’ll see you later.”

“See you later.”

I leave the dusty old barn and walk across the grass to the house attached to the lighthouse. I’ve lived here my whole life. Well, except for the years that I went away to college, and when June and I were roommates here in town until my parents decided to retire and move to Florida. Once they did, I moved back in—after making some minor improvements and decorating the place to my tastes.

I don’t think I could have moved in and left it exactly how Mom and Daddy left it. It wasn’t in bad shape. It was just…outdated.

And now I have an updated kitchen with white cabinets and black granite countertops, perfect for baking and cooking. I had the floors refinished and stained to a light honey color. With white walls, the house is bright and inviting and not at all cold, thanks to beautiful local artwork and plenty of pillows and throw blankets.

I love it here. It’s the perfect mix of familiar and fresh.

After I quickly change out of my dirty clothes and into a pretty, yellow summer dress with a light pink cardigan and sandals, I walk out to the car and fire it up.

My ten-year-old Mazda has seen better days, but she usually gets the job done. If Wolfe is good to his word and takes the time to give her a once-over, she’ll last quite a while longer.

The lighthouse is perched on a hill, high on the cliffs so the beacon can be seen many miles out into the Pacific Ocean. I’m only a couple of miles outside of town, so the drive is relatively short, even on the twisty road by the sea.

I never tire of seeing the blue of the Pacific. I went to college inland and felt like a fish out of water. I couldn’t wait to get back.

Whether the ocean shimmers with sunlight as it does today, or churns gray with a storm, it fuels me the way nothing else ever has.

Because it’s still summer, it means we’re still in the heart of tourist season. I don’t allow tours of the lighthouse—not yet, anyway—so it stays pretty quiet at my place. Our little town, however, is hopping with visitors. Finding a spot near Three Sisters Kitchen is a challenge, and I end up parking about a block away.

But I don’t mind the short walk in the warm sunshine to the front of the adorable establishment. Three Sisters is a farm-to-table restaurant that has quickly become a favorite in Huckleberry Bay. I’m not here for a meal today, though. Instead, I’d like to pick Cordelia’s brain.

“Well, it’s good to see a familiar face,” Cordelia says when she sees me walk through the door.

“You’re busy,” I reply, glancing around at the full tables. “I can come back another time.”

“Don’t you dare leave me,” she says, shaking her head. “Do you want a table? I have a delicious corn chowder in the kitchen for lunch.”

“Actually, I’ll take some of that to go, thanks, but I’m really here to ask you a couple of questions. But it’s not urgent. I can come back when there aren’t so many customers in here.”

“That probably won’t be until October.” She laughs. “Come on back to the office where it’s a smidge quieter, and we’ll talk. Phoebe, honey, just call if you need somethin’. Oh, and have a bowl of the corn chowder packaged up to go for Luna, please.”

Phoebe, the young woman working the cash register, gives a thumbs-up, and I follow Cordelia to her office.

“How’s business been this summer?” I ask as she shuts the door behind us.

“More than we can handle,” she replies. “It’s both a blessing and a curse if I’m being honest. A blessing because our tables are full from the time we open until we close, but a curse because we’re all exhausted around here. But on the upside, this busy season will get us through the lean ones when the tourists go home and leave our town quiet for a while.”