He disappeared out the door—and was back so fast she barely had time to run a brush through her hair and stack pillows for them to lean against while they enjoyed their breakfast in bed.

“That was quick.” She sat cross-legged as he approached with the loaded tray, a white-wrapped square package under his arm.

“Every minute away from you felt like an hour.” He eased the tray onto the bed.

“You have a silver tongue.”

“Nope. You inspire eloquence.” He set the three-inch-thick package next to the tray and gave her a short but potent kiss.

“Another gift?” She lifted her hand and touched the flat platinum choker with the sapphire in the center that he claimed matched her eyes—and which she’d insisted on wearing to bed.

“Not from me. I caught a glimpse of this through the front window on my way to the kitchen. It was on the porch, leaning against the railing.”

“It must be a wedding present.”

“Why would someone leave it there?”

“We did ask people not to bring gifts. Maybe they didn’t want to call attention to it.”

“Could be. You want to open it now? The food won’t get cold, and it will take a few minutes for the coffee to brew.”

She surveyed the continental breakfast Tasha had somehow found time to put together during her whirlwind visit to act as maid of honor in the midst of getting ready for her restaurant grand opening. The croissants, jam, cheese, fresh fruit, pastries, and juice were tempting but why not wait until the coffee was ready and their feast was complete?

“Let’s open it. I’m curious.”

“It’s on the heavy side, considering the size.” He handed her the fourteen-by-fourteen-inch package.

She weighed it in her hands. “You’re right. Want me to do the honors?” She indicated the business-size envelope taped to the top that was addressed to both of them.

“Have at it.” He scooted beside her on the bed.

She pulled the envelope off, slit the flap, and removed two sheets of paper folded together. After opening them, she positioned the short cover note so they could both read it.

Mr. & Mrs. Colby:

My client has instructed me to pass this package along to you. It was discovered in a closet after the house was purchased from the estate of the original owner, John Wright.

My client has also instructed me to offer you the opportunity to buy the cottage. The price and a few other details are listed on page two and are nonnegotiable. I look forward to hearing from you.

All my best wishes on your marriage.

It was typed on company stationery and signed by the man who’d contacted her about leasing the cottage, his cell number jotted underneath.

Christi blinked.

Could this be for real?

She turned to Jack, who appeared as puzzled as she was. “What do you think?”