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Back Sunset Beach Save as PDF
Chapters (73)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. Epilogue
  71. Also by Mary Kay Andrews
  72. About the Author
  73. Newsletter Sign-up

The tent and the rest of the beach gear and the still-slumbering baby had been packed and hauled back to the cottage. All that was left were the two folding beach chairs Drue had excavated so many months ago from Papi’s shed.

Drue walked down to the edge of the water, where Jonah was waiting, cell phone in hand.

The sun hovered inches from the horizon, a fiery orange orb in the deepening violet sky.

She shaded her eyes with her hands, anxiously looking up the beach.

“He might not show up tonight,” she fretted. “I think some people up the beach are feeding him.”

Jonah put his arm around her waist and kissed her neck. “If he doesn’t show up tonight, no worries. There’ll be lots of other sunsets.” He kissed her again, and she sagged comfortably against him. “Hundreds and hundreds of gorgeous sunsets. And we’ll watch them together. Right here.”

A V-shaped formation of pelicans flew past then, their dark shapes silhouetted against the dusky sky.

Jonah raised the phone and clicked off a series of photos.

“You know? I think we might see the green flash tonight,” Drue said. The sun had dipped so low on the horizon the only thing still visible was a faint orange streak.

“Hey, look.” Jonah turned and pointed. He handed the phone to her. The blue-gray bird approached, neck outstretched, eyes trained down on the water, balancing delicately on stick-like legs.

Drue held her breath, waiting, as the heron finally stood poised in front of her. The bird lifted its head, turned and seemed to be staring directly into her camera. She clicked the shutter only once, and put the phone down.

A brilliant phosphorescent burst of green slashed across the horizon and was gone. “There it is,” Jonah said. “A perfect sunset.”

“The first of thousands. Tens of thousands of sunsets,” Drue murmured. The heron startled, unfolded its wings and flew off.

“They’ll all be perfect to me,” Jonah said.

Drue swung around and faced Coquina Cottage, lit up against the night sky. “Let’s go home,” she said.

Also by Mary Kay Andrews

ALSO BY MARY KAY ANDREWS

The High Tide Club

The Beach House Cookbook

The Weekenders

Beach Town

Save the Date

Christmas Bliss

Ladies’ Night

Spring Fever

Summer Rental

The Fixer Upper

Deep Dish

Savannah Breeze

Blue Christmas

Hissy Fit

Little Bitty Lies

Savannah Blues

About the Author

About the Author

MARY KAY ANDREWS is the New York Times bestselling author of The High Tide Club, The Beach House Cookbook, The Weekenders, Beach Town, Save the Date, Ladies’ Night, Christmas Bliss, Spring Fever, Summer Rental, The Fixer Upper, Deep Dish, Blue Christmas, Savannah Breeze, Hissy Fit, Little Bitty Lies, and Savannah Blues. A former journalist for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, she lives in Atlanta, Georgia.

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