Lighthouse Point

She flew to Sanibel to sell her grandmother's old shell cottage and say goodbye. She did not plan on a reason to stay - or on getting back the bright, wondering part of herself she thought she had set down for good.

At fifty-four, Marin Calloway has a quiet condo in Cincinnati, a grown daughter who worries about her, a long marriage that ended last year without a single raised voice, and one last errand: fly down to Sanibel Island, clean out the little Gulf-front cottage her grandmother Opal left her, and sell the failing old shell museum on the dune. Two weeks. In and out.

Then she meets Cole Renfrew - the gruff, widowed boat builder next door who mends the things nobody thanks him for and has quietly kept Opal's cottage from sliding into the Gulf for years. And she walks into the Shell Cottage at Lighthouse Point, the screened sorting porch and Friday-night gathering where the whole island used to come shell and sing under the sea grapes - only to find it shuttered and sagging, the brass lantern dark in the window, and a smooth developer circling the lease.

A retired librarian who grew up on her grandmother's shelling walks and famous key lime pie cannot quite walk away. So Marin stays past her two weeks, and she and Cole start bringing the old place back board by board - two people who thought their best years were behind them, learning that the brightest light on the island might be the one they keep lighting for each other. But a private resort wants the whole point, her daughter wants her home, and Cole swore a long time ago that he would never stand at another bedside.

A sweet, clean, slow-burn second-chance romance with no spice and a guaranteed happily-ever-after. Welcome to Sanibel Island, where every book is a new couple, a fresh start, and a happy ending.