But knowing he hadn’t earned forever yet, he made himself draw back and ask again, “Will you come sailing with me again tonight?”
“Yes,” she finally said. “I’d love to.”
Chapter Twelve
BILLY’S BY THE Bay was a small seafood café located a few miles away from the resort. Shelley and Sierra had just ordered iced tea and salads on the patio beneath a vibrant red umbrella, but Shelley’s mind was still tangled in thoughts of Quinn and the magnificent kiss they’d shared on the sailboat after the lesson. They’d agreed to meet later that evening for a moonlit boat ride, and even though she was still more than a little wary of being hurt again, she also couldn’t deny that she was excited to see him again.
One more chance.
It was a risk, given his obvious workaholic tendencies, but there were so many great things about Quinn—he was sweet and sexy, smart and funny, and utterly devoted to his family—that made it impossible for Shelley to turn away from him just yet. Not without giving him one more chance to get things right.
“The wind really kicked up this afternoon. Was it this bad when you were sailing?” Sierra gathered her hair over one shoulder and held it tight so that it wouldn’t blow all over the place.
Shelley fished around in her purse. “Fortunately it was pretty calm. I know I have a couple elastic bands in here somewhere.” She pulled one out and handed it to Sierra, who made quick work of tying back her hair.
“This is why I need sisters,” Sierra said. “My brothers would probably take out a piece of rope and try to tie my hair back with some fancy boating knot. Ethan must know a thousand different knots, actually.”
Shelley laughed as she also pulled her hair into a ponytail. “Well, I wouldn’t mind having a sister or a brother. I’d take someone caring enough to tie rope in my hair any day over being cared for by nannies and dragged around like luggage.”
She was so comfortable with Sierra already that the words came before she could stop them. She thought about when she’d accidentally mentioned diamond mines on the boat with Quinn and how she’d seen him mentally putting the pieces of her childhood together. He obviously hadn’t mentioned it to Sierra, though, and she was glad he thought enough of her not to share it, to give her the chance to do so at her own pace.
“That couldn’t have been fun.”
Shelley tried to shrug it off. “It wasn’t that bad, just not the same as having a houseful of other kids to play with and parents who were actually around instead of working all the time.”
“I thank God every day for my parents. They’re so down-to-earth and real. It’s always driven my grandfather crazy that none of us play up our surname.” Sierra sipped her iced tea. “I probably shouldn’t share family secrets, but I feel like I’ve known you forever for some reason.”
“Don’t worry. I promise your family secrets are safe with me. And I feel the exact same way about you.” Shelley felt so lucky that she had connected with Sierra. Her parents’ lifestyle was so different from what most people had been exposed to that she was really glad for the kinship. “Your mom seems really nice. Everyone here does, actually. It’s one of the first things I noticed when I landed on the island. Any town that has a brag wall is officially fabulous.”
“Eleanor is so cute, isn’t she?” Sierra agreed. “She’s absolutely the perfect person to run the visitors’ center.”
“Did you know she has pictures of your brothers from when they were teenagers up on the board?”
“Everyone loves my brothers. Of course, what everyone else doesn’t see is what it’s like to be their sister. They can be a little overbearing to me sometimes, particularly Trent, Quinn, and Derek, but I try to remind myself that they’re only doing what they think is best. And beneath their workaholic sides, they’re fun. Especially Quinn. Back when we were kids, at least, he was always the one coming up with crazy plans for all of us.”
“I’m not surprised,” Shelley said. And she truly wasn’t, because she’d seen for herself how much fun he could be.
“Really? You’re not surprised to hear that he can be fun?”
Shelley smiled as she told Sierra, “We went clamming yesterday, and then of course he taught the sailing lesson today, which was great.”
“Wait.” Sierra pressed her palms to the table. “You got Quinn to go clamming? Like dig in the mud clamming?”
“He’s the one who suggested it, actually. I had no idea how to clam, but I had a blast.” She purposefully left out the part where she'd been rolling around on the sand making out with Quinn, of course.
Sierra’s brows knitted together as she leaned back and crossed her legs, her long cotton skirt waving in the breeze. “Shelley, Shelley, Shelley…”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
But the mischief in Sierra’s dark eyes told Shelley there was a lot of something in that nothing.
On the one hand, Shelley loved knowing that Quinn was different around her than he’d been with other women...but on the other hand, she was also worried about how fast her feelings for him had already grown.
Her mind drifted back to the horrible feelings of the night before, when he’d taken the phone call and ignored her. Then she quickly fast-forwarded to the flowers he’d left on her porch and the deep regret in his eyes when he’d apologized—many times over.
Yet again she tried to convince herself that she still needed to be careful, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that they not only generated a shocking amount of heat and passion together, but that they'd also been opening their hearts to each other since day one. And along with opening their hearts came learning, growing, and even sometimes experiencing old wounds as they set boundaries on what was okay and what wasn’t.
Wasn’t that part of every relationship—at least the ones that lasted?
“Anyway, like I was saying before we started talking about Quinn,” Sierra said, as if she could tell that Shelley had grown slightly uncomfortable, “of all my brothers, Ethan’s probably the most easygoing. But I think that’s because he’s the youngest and none of us gave him much of a chance to chime in—we were all such loudmouths. Then again, maybe he just plays that card because women always go gaga for the strong and silent type.” Sierra laughed. “There I go, spilling more family tales. You need to act bitchy or something so I stop talking.”
“I don’t think I’m very good at being bitchy. But chatty? I could do that all day long. All night, too.” Although, she didn’t want to take up too much of Sierra’s time, so she said, “When I met your mom at Annabelle’s, she said that you thought an organic coffee shop would do really well here. Do you agree?”
“Oh my goodness, yes! Starbucks tried to come onto the island, but our civic association nixed that. We’re really into keeping things local. Otherwise Rockwell Island might become nothing more than an extension of any big city out there.”
“I know what you mean. I don’t shop at trendy stores, and those restaurants that everyone fights to get in?” Shelley shook her head. “Not me. I’m more about the experience than the notability. I’m proud of sourcing great coffee beans and local bakers for my café, but I think the real reason people come back is because I love getting to know them—talking with them about their lives, their jobs, families.”
“That’s part of the fun of owning a restaurant for me, too,” Sierra said with a smile. “I know when kids are graduating from school, when their plays are. I find out when people get sick and I bring them homemade soups and meals.”
Without missing a beat, Sierra leaned forward again to say, “Please tell me you’re actually thinking of bringing your café here. And not just because I’m always craving a good cup of coffee, but because I think it would be so much fun to have you in town.”
Shelley hadn’t been one hundred percent certain before talking to Quinn’s sister, but everything just felt so right about being here. It didn’t hurt that she also felt like she’d just found a new best friend.
; “I like to follow my instincts, and something tells me that this would be a good place for me. The right place. A place I can see myself settling in and putting down roots. I’ve never really had that. I mean, I love where I live now, but I want to find my forever home. A place that my grandchildren will visit and think, our crazy grandma just up and moved here on a whim—and it was the best decision she ever made in her life.”
Sierra lifted her glass of iced tea in a toast. “Here’s to making great decisions about life, work, and especially love.”
And as Shelley clinked her glass against her new friend’s, she knew she’d already made one good decision at least—coming to Rockwell Island for her solo honeymoon had been one of the best things she’d ever done.
QUINN SPENT THE afternoon working through the documents for Rich and finally sent them off five minutes before the alarm that he’d set went off. He wasn’t about to take a chance of being late for his date with Shelley.
He walked at a fast clip across the marble floors of the spacious lobby. The resort had been redesigned twice that Quinn could remember. The first time his grandfather had gone all-out, with crystal chandeliers and dark marble floors throughout, but the resort had looked more like it belonged in Las Vegas than on the island. Thankfully, his grandmother had finally talked some sense into Chandler. How she got through to the man, no one knew, but within two years of that pricey renovation, he’d had it renovated again, using light-colored marble, stone procured from the island, and replaced many of the crystal chandeliers with iron ones boasting faux candles to give the fancy resort more of an intimate island feel. Dark sofas and settees were replaced with warmer-toned, comfortable furniture.
Thoughts of taking over the resort nagged at the back of Quinn’s mind. He didn’t want to think about that demon looming over him right now, but as he made his way toward the restaurant, greeting the employees as he went, a part of him couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to actually do it. To be in charge of the layout, the offerings, and the success of the family business. Surprisingly, he found it wasn’t a terrible thought.
The chef had everything laid out in a corner of the huge kitchen for Quinn as he’d requested. Quinn knew he wasn’t the best cook, but he wanted to make the effort for Shelley. He wasn’t the type of guy to order dinner out seven nights a week, and the sooner he started proving to Shelley that he wasn’t like her parents, the better. If he’d been home, he would have asked her to join him for a glass of wine while he cooked, but with the restaurant working at full speed tonight, he knew that trying to converse with Shelley while working around the chefs would be more chaos than pleasure.
When he was done making dinner, he dropped the food off on the boat, then walked to her cottage. The candle he’d given her in the champagne bottle was lit, its flame dancing in the wind as it swept through the screen. Through the window, he saw Shelley come out of the bedroom wearing a navy miniskirt that revealed her long, lean legs. A white sweater with navy trim clung beautifully to her torso. When she bent to put on a pair of sandals, Quinn had to fight the urge to stare as her neckline fell slightly open, revealing the edge of a lacy blue bra.
From the first moment he'd set eyes on her, her beauty stunned him. Even if he saw her every day for the rest of his life, he knew he'd never stop being awestruck, never be able to look at her, or touch her, without his heartbeat kicking into overdrive.
When he finally knocked, he felt more nervous than he had in years. Shelley pulled the door open, and even though he’d just seen her sixty seconds ago through the window, he lost his breath all over again at her incredible beauty. Loose tendrils framed her face, and she wore a little eye makeup, which gave her already sultry eyes a seductive quality.
“Hi,” she said with a smile, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sweater. It looked like he wasn’t the only nervous one tonight.
He leaned down, intending to kiss her cheek, but she turned her face so that their lips met instead. All day he couldn't stop imagining this—the way her body melted against his, the sweet sounds of her gasps of pleasure, the feel of her hair as he tangled his fingers into it.
It took every last ounce of willpower not to deepen the kiss, pick her up, carry her into the bedroom, and let their desires take over. But he’d promised her a boat ride, and that’s what she was going to get...even though her hands were fisted in the collar of his shirt and she was kissing him like she wanted to tear his clothes off as badly as he wanted to strip off hers.
Her eyes were hazy with desire and more than a little unfocused as she looked up at him.
“It’s really nice to see you again,” she whispered. “I hope I’m dressed okay for our boat ride.”
“You look beautiful.” The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
He loved how her cheeks pinked up at the way he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was so strong that it magnified the moments when she let her defenses down, and though Quinn knew how incredible they would be together if they chucked in their sailing plans tonight and tangled up her sheets instead, he wanted to get to know her better first. To find out about all the things that had led her to be so spontaneous and strong, while also being warm and forgiving.
“Ready to go?”
“I just need to blow this out first,” she replied as she went to the window. “The candle you gave me is one of the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received. Well, other than the Motrin,” she added with a smile. “When I was little I spent a week at the Cape with my aunt each summer, and she used to buy sparkling cider in wine bottles. I’d pretend I was drinking wine while we sat out on her front porch overlooking the bay at night. Each time we finished a bottle, she’d plant a candle in it, just like you did. Thank you for reminding me of such happiness.”
But, yet again, he knew he should be thanking her. Because for the first time in a very long time, he felt happy, too.
Happier than he could ever remember being before.
Chapter Thirteen
LIGHTS OF THE island shone in the distance, and moonlight reflected off of the inky water as they shared the steak dinner Quinn had made, complete with salad, baked potatoes, and a side of vegetables.
“I can’t believe you went to all this trouble.” Shelley had never had a man cook dinner for her before. Knowing how busy Quinn was, that he’d taken the time to prepare such a wonderful meal made it even more special.
“I loved cooking for you. And I love that you actually enjoyed it, too.”
“I really did. It was absolutely delicious.” They put the dishes in the cooler he’d brought and sat together, sharing a glass of wine. “It’s so thrilling being out on the water at night. If I close my eyes, we could be anywhere. In the middle of the Black Sea or off the Florida coast.”
Quinn put an arm around her and pulled her closer. So close that she could feel the heat of his body—and his wonderfully hard muscles—all along her side. “That’s one of the things that drew me to boats in the first place.” He stroked over her shoulder with the pad of his thumb, awakening every cell in her body with need as he said, “Whenever the island felt confining, the open water felt like it had endless possibilities.”
“You’ve talked about feeling confined before.” She knew he must be able to hear the way desire drenched every one of her words, from nothing more than the way his thumb was moving across her skin. The thought of his hands on more of her tonight was so good that she nearly forgot what she'd been about to ask him. “Do you really not like the size of the island?”
“Honestly?” By now, he'd moved his hand up to stroke over the sensitive skin of her neck. Did he have any idea at all how crazy he was making her feel as he said, “I used to feel that way. But since we’ve been spending time together, you’ve shaken some of my good memories loose, and now I’m wondering if I’ve been too critical. I’d forgotten how much I loved boating. I’d forgotten the smell of the bay at low tide. I’d even forgotten about the view from the road where I used to ride
my bike. I guess I took for granted the things the island did have to offer, because I was so dead set on striking out on my own.”
Now, he brushed his hand over her hair, sending the most delicious shivers of need running through her as he tucked a strand behind her ear.
“What about you? You obviously love the island, but don’t you think you’ll eventually miss the pace of being back home and running your business?”
His mouth. She couldn't stop staring at his lips...and wishing they were on hers. But, knowing that the biggest and best pleasure would come from a combination of innate heat and truly getting to know each other, she forced herself to answer his question first. “I love my customers, of course, but it’s not like I wake up and feel like the town of Severn is all there is in life for me. I always knew that one day I’d find a place where I truly wanted to put down roots, and the more time I spend here, the more it feels like this might be it.”
“You said you spent time with your aunt at the Cape. Do you think part of feeling so comfortable on the island is because she’s nearby?”
“I wish she were still here,” she answered softly, feeling the ache of missing her aunt. “She passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m so sorry, Shelley.” He gently stroked the back of his hand against her cheek, obviously sensing how much she missed her aunt. “Did you ever consider moving to the area where she lived?”
“In Eastham?” She shook her head. “I loved it there, but I know I could never re-create what we had. That was a moment in time, you know? Whereas this island feels like the perfect combination of what my aunt and I shared and something that’s all my own. I feel like I fit in here. And I want to make new memories.”
When she turned her face to his, his thumb lightly stroking along her jawline now, she saw that the wind had tousled Quinn’s hair, making him impossibly sexier, like he’d just rolled out of bed. “What about you? What does your home in Maryland feel like?”
Cape Cod Kisses Page 12