“The letterhead seems legit—but it’s an odd approach to selling a house. And why now? I tried for months to convince the owner to talk to me and got nowhere.”

“I have no idea—but all the dealings I’ve had with my mystery landlord have been unorthodox. This follows that pattern.” A rush of excitement swept over her. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Sea Glass Cottage was actually ours?”

“Yes. But much as I love this place, the nonnegotiable caveat raises a red flag. This person could be asking a gouge price. Not unheard of for desirable coastal property.”

“You want to peek at page two—or have breakfast first?”

“At the risk of indigestion if the amount is sky-high, let’s pull back the curtain.”

She held out the two sheets of paper. “You do it.”

“Chicken.”

“Guilty.”

He took the papers from her . . . took a breath . . . and switched the sheets back to front.

Christi curled her fingers around the edge of the package in her lap as he read, heart flip-flopping when twin creases appeared on his brow. “It’s too high, isn’t it?”

The grooves deepened. “This has to be a typo.”

Shoot.

“How bad is it?”

After a moment, he held the paper out to her.

Bracing, she searched for the price. Did a double take after she found it.

“That can’t be right—can it? I mean . . . I’m no real estate expert, and I’m too new here to have a feel for this market, but isn’t this way low?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think we should call the guy from the management company?”

“Yeah.” Jack grabbed the cell he’d left on the nightstand, powered it up, and tapped in the number on the letter, switching to speaker as it rang.

The man answered at once. “Good morning, Mr. Colby. I’ve been expecting your call.”

Jack took her hand. “I’m here with my wife, and we have you on speaker.”

“You opened the package.”

“Not yet. Only the letter attached to it.”

“And you want to know if the sale price is a mistake.”

“Yes.”

“No, it’s not. We advised the law firm representing the owner’s interests that the property had been undervalued, but the owner didn’t wish to change the price. As I told your wife when we discussed her lease arrangement in April, we’re dealing with someone who appears to be rather eccentric. I would assume you’re interested in pursuing a purchase.”

“Yes.” Christi and Jack spoke in unison, and he grinned at her.

“I’ll let the law firm know and we’ll begin the paperwork. In the meantime, enjoy your honeymoon, and best wishes to you both.”

The line went dead, and Jack slowly set the phone back on the nightstand. “This is surreal.”

“I agree. Who is this person—and why would they give us such a deal?”