Quinn's eyebrows went up at her retort. Does she want to be put on the next boat back to Greece?
"You're right that they're certainly determined," Chandler agreed, much to Quinn's shock. Even more shocking was the undeniable sound of approval in his grandfather's voice.
"And just as devoted to their family," Didi pushed.
She really must want to be fired as soon as possible. Quinn was sure that family bit was going to push his grandfather over the edge, but it wasn't Chandler who spoke next; it was Didi.
"You know they're doing this for your son, don't you? For Griffin and the island residents, not for you."
The old man harrumphed. "It's time for you to take my blood pressure."
Quinn's anger and need for another confrontation suddenly diffused, and he turned back to the elevator, replaying what he'd heard over and over in his mind. Didi clearly had a spine of steel, but what had surprised him most of all was the fact that his grandfather didn't refute what she'd said about him and his siblings.
He found Trent in the lobby, talking with Krista, one of the receptionists at the front desk. Quinn waited impatiently for Trent to finish talking, feeling as though every passing second widened the fissure between him and Shelley.
When Trent finally turned to him, Quinn said, "I just overheard something I need to share with you guys. Where is everyone?"
"They're having breakfast in the cafe. What did you hear?"
"Let's go find everyone else. I'll tell you once we're all together."
The cafe was bustling with guests eating breakfast and waiters and waitresses, wearing white tops and black slacks or skirts, working efficiently to deliver food on large round trays. Quinn had never worked as a waiter, as many of his friends had when they were growing up. He'd always worked on boats, where he'd soaked up as much knowledge as the captains and deckhands would share. It was during those afternoon and evening hours that he'd learned how to fix engines and check riggings and just about everything else having to do with boats, with the exception of actually sailing.
His father had taught him how to sail when he was a boy, and he treasured those memories. From his very first sail, Quinn had fallen in love with the wind and the sea and the strength of the bay. When he was out on the water, everything felt brighter.
Just like when I'm with Shelley.
Quinn hated knowing he'd wasted his morning dealing with his grandfather when he should have been at her cottage to apologize as soon as she woke up. Even now he was losing time when he could have been running down to her cottage to see if there was any chance that she was still there.
"I thought you were heading down to the dock," Sierra said when he and Trent got to the table where the rest of their siblings were sitting.
"I need to talk with you guys first about something I just heard Chandler say to Didi."
"Before you do," she said, the expression on his sister's face clearly telling him that she wasn't at all looking forward to more discussions about their grandfather, "I've been dying to ask you about Shelley. I'm meeting with her this afternoon to talk about her cafe. She seems really great. And after you swept her out of my restaurant so fast yesterday, we're all wondering what's up with you two."
Knowing Sierra loved to get the scoop on her brothers' love lives and that she wouldn't relent until he told her something, he admitted, "She is great. Really great." Really great felt like the world's biggest understatement when it came to Shelley. "But I completely screwed up with her yesterday, so unless I can find her and convince her to accept my apology today, there's nothing to tell."
"Figures you'd screw things up with a beautiful woman," Derek said, clearly unimpressed as he shook his head.
Quinn shot his brother a narrow-eyed stare as Trent frowned and said, "I've started to wonder if that's how we weed out the ones who matter."
It sounded to Quinn like that was a question Trent had been asking himself a lot lately. About Reese, maybe?
"If she doesn't matter," Trent continued, "you'll let things lie. But if she does matter, you'll grovel yourself back into her good graces. And you'll do anything you can to get her back. And keep her."
Quinn wasn't above groveling, not where Shelley was concerned. Hell, if there was any way he could get her back, he swore he'd do it. But first he needed to tell his siblings what he'd just heard standing outside of Chandler's office.
Ethan was the one who got them back on track. "What did Chandler say that you think we need to know?"
"First of all, Didi..." Quinn was still amazed at the way she'd stood up to their curmudgeonly grandfather. "That woman has a spine of steel."
"Oh no. What happened?" Sierra's smile immediately faded as their grandfather became the focus of their conversation again.
"Didi said something to Chandler about how we're as determined as he is."
"Looks like it's on to nurse number five," Derek said, but he didn't look at all happy about it.
"No, that's just it," Quinn told them. "Grandfather agreed. And when she pushed him further about how we're agreeing to stay on the island and run the resort just to support Dad and the island residents, he didn't refute it." Quinn leaned his palms on the table and lowered his voice. "She also said that we were just as devoted to family as he is." All of his siblings looked as shocked as he still felt. "That tells me two things. Either she knows him better than any of us do, which seems impossible. Or...I wonder if his heart attacks had more of an impact on him than we're giving him credit for. Do you think there's any chance this nonsense with the resort could be his sneaky way of bringing the family back together?"
Derek laughed so loudly the people at nearby tables turned and looked at him.
"You honestly think Chandler gives two hoots about family?" Derek said, no traces of humor left in his voice at all. "When Grandma was around, he treated her like she came third--after the resort and after his high school sweetheart left him in the dust well before Grandma even met him."
"Please don't bring Grandma Caroline into this," Sierra said. "She loved Chandler to the ends of the earth, and she never seemed to blame him for treating her like she was his second choice."
"She was a saint," Derek agreed. "But that doesn't make it right. Everyone knew that he never got over Eloise Fisher. He married Grandma Caroline because, for whatever reason, she adored him and he wanted to have an heir. She was probably the only woman who would put up with him. All I'm saying is that I think Quinn's way off base. Chandler wouldn't know about family loyalty if it bit him in the ass."
"Actually," Quinn pointed out, "he did take over the family business, so he obviously knows something about family loyalty. I'm just wondering if maybe somewhere over the years he got screwed up in the head"--and the heart, he thought silently as he went back to how stupid he had been with Shelley the night before, all because he'd been too focused on work to remember what really mattered--"and forgot how to treat people."
"Maybe you misheard him?" Trent suggested. "Or misunderstood what he meant."
"Maybe," Quinn said, "but I just thought you guys should know what I heard."
With that, Quinn said a quick goodbye to his siblings, then sprinted out of the resort and across the pool area toward Shelley's cottage. But just as he'd expected, she was already gone for the day.
The flowers he'd left on the mat for her the night before were gone now, but for all he knew, she'd thrown them away when she'd realized they were from him. She'd been so excited about the island that he assumed she was off on another adventure. Without him, damn it.
Quinn's heart was heavy, but as he glanced at her cottage one last time, he finally noticed a vase filled with the flowers he'd left for her. She hadn't thrown them away.
His world was a little less dark as he made his way from her cottage to the docks, but a little less didn't even begin to brighten his mood.
Accepting flowers was one thing, but accepting his apology--and him--was a whole different program.
Was this how
Chandler felt? Riddled with regret for the choices he'd made? And was there any chance that he had been a different man when he was younger?
Quinn wasn't taking any chances of following that same lonely path. He was already on his way to change. Taking the day to teach a sailing class might seem like a baby step, but for Quinn to give up hours of work, it was a giant leap forward. And it was only the beginning.
One way or another, he was going to make last night up to Shelley and win her back.
Chapter Eleven
AFTER GRABBING A croissant at the resort's coffee stand for breakfast, Shelley headed down to the marina for her sailing class.
The wide wooden dock reminded her of fishing with her aunt when she was little. Her father had been beside himself the summer she'd learned to fish, saying that no daughter of his should take part in such a filthy activity. Fishing, in his eyes, was fit only for old men with gray beards and yellow plastic coveralls. Shelley loved her parents, despite everything, but she'd never fit in with them.
The boat for the sailing lesson was at the dock, but Shelley didn't yet see an instructor. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she stepped aboard to nose around a little before they got started. It had been a long time since she'd been on yachts with her family and smaller sailboats with her aunt. The deck was sleek, and the boat was spotless.
She was walking around the cabin when she stopped short at the sight of Quinn, shirtless and leaning over a pile of rope. For a moment, her brain went completely blank as she stared at all that gorgeously tanned, muscle. But then she remembered what he'd done, and as the hurt feelings came rushing back, she made herself shove the attraction down--all the way down.
Quinn turned, a surprised smile stretching across his face as he rose to his feet.
"Shelley. I'm so glad you're here." He closed the distance between them until he was so close that she could see a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his skin as he said, "I'm so sorry I took the phone call and I'm sorry I spent so much time on it. I've been wanting you to know all morning just how sorry I am for the way I behaved."
She was stunned to see him on the boat...but even more stunned by his apology. One that seemed very heartfelt. Between his very sweet apology--and his close, shirtless proximity--it took her a few moments to find her voice. "I got the flowers." Her chest clenched as she told him, "They were lovely. Thank you."
"But they weren't enough. I never should have behaved like that. I never should have treated you like you weren't important to me." His regret was palpable. "I came by last night to apologize, but your cottage was dark and I thought you were already asleep. And then, when I jogged by this morning to try to catch you before you went out, your curtains were drawn, and I didn't want to wake you."
His eyes were full of sorrow, but with an underlying hint of hope--hope that cut straight to her heart. It would have been easy to write Quinn off for his family name and extreme wealth alone, and she might have already done just that if he hadn't repeatedly shown the other side of himself--and if she hadn't met Abby and Sierra and connected with their easygoing personalities. If three Rockwells could be that warm and wonderful, didn't that say something about the family as a whole? She didn't want to be judged by her family name, so it wasn't fair to judge them by theirs, was it?
But at the same time, he hadn't hurt her because he was a Rockwell--he had hurt her by treating her like she hadn't mattered last night. Years of that type of treatment from her family wasn't buried as deeply as she'd hoped, and the sting of his ignoring her still remained even after he'd apologized.
Now, despite how wonderful it had felt to kiss him yesterday and how desperately she was aching to touch him again, somewhere in the back of her mind she heard a voice whispering a warning that she needed to be careful.
Knowing he was waiting for her response, with her thoughts in a conflicted jumble, what finally came out was, "I was looking for the sailing lessons. But I guess I'm not in the right place."
He drew his brows together, obviously noting that she hadn't accepted his apology. "You're on the right boat. I'm teaching the lesson."
"You are?" Her stomach apparently didn't get the message about being careful, because it was fluttering like a schoolgirl's.
He smiled and reached for his shirt from the deck. "Yes. The instructor was sick."
Shelley was losing the battle against admiring the sexy sight of the muscles in his back flexing as he pulled his T-shirt over his head, when someone said, "Excuse me?"
They both turned at the sound of the woman's voice. A gray-haired couple waved from the dock.
Quinn touched Shelley's arm, a touch that sizzled through her from head to toe. "I think this is the rest of our class." He took a step away, then glanced over his shoulder and said again, "I truly am sorry, Shelley."
Her heart in her throat--sweet and hot was clearly a very dangerous combination, dangerous enough to make her want to throw caution to the wind--she managed a nod.
Quinn helped the older couple up the ramp and onto the boat. Neither of them could have been taller than five feet. Dressed in white slacks and white shirts, with navy blue sneakers and floppy blue hats, they looked like they were ready for a Florida cruise.
"Well, hello, sweetie," the woman said to Quinn. "I'm Georgette Gainer, and this is my husband George."
"Georgette and George?" he said with a friendly smile. "You two were obviously meant to be."
Shelley also smiled at the couple and held out her hand. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Shelley Walters."
"You too, honey. What we usually tell people is just to say, Hey, GiGi, and we'll both turn around."
She eyed Quinn and Shelley as Quinn put his hand on Shelley's lower back for a moment to guide her around a coil of rope lying on the deck, then looped her arms into George's.
"George, aren't they a handsome couple? They go together like tea and crumpets."
"Oh, no," Shelley said quickly, even as she tried to fight back the desire vibrating through her at nothing more than Quinn's hand on the small of her back. "We're not a couple. Quinn is the instructor. I'm just here for the class, like you are."
"Oh?" Georgette shared a surprised glance with her husband. "When we saw you two, we thought you were together. I'm sorry. Me and my big mouth."
After helping the older couple put on their life vests, Quinn stepped in front of Shelley to help adjust hers, the apology still evident in his eyes.
When she'd protested that they weren't a couple, his hand had dropped from her back. And she'd instantly missed it. Just as she missed the smile he'd replaced with a frown.
What other man did she know who would have apologized a dozen times inside of five minutes? Shelley knew the dangers of becoming involved--even for a fling--with a successful, wealthy businessman. At the same time, however, a part of her admired that he was so driven and interested in his work. When she was doing something she loved, she felt the exact same way.
Plus, for a little while at least, she'd been sure there was more to him than met the eye. Because despite how much pressure she knew he was under, he'd still set his work aside for a while, first for his family and then to take her clamming out on the beach. For a few wonderful hours, she'd had more fun with him than she'd ever had with anyone else.
And when she added in the way his kisses had rocked her down to her very soul and his caresses made her feel utterly wild and wanton? Moment by moment, his sweet behavior on the boat chipped away at her resolve to remain careful.
"One more chance." She said the words softly enough that only Quinn could hear them.
His eyes lit with relief and a renewed desire that not only warmed her from the inside out...but also made her hope she was making the right decision by letting Quinn Rockwell back into her life.
KNOWING HE'D MADE Shelley sad was a terrible feeling. But seeing the light in her eyes dim when he'd been apologizing and she'd been struggling with how to respond? Hell, that had just about killed him.
T
hank God by the time he'd helped her with her life vest, she'd decided to give him one more chance.
A chance that he was bound and determined not to screw up.
He powered up the boat and piloted it into the bay. Georgette and George sat side by side holding hands, and Shelley stood at the bow with the wind blowing her hair away from her face.
The more Quinn thought about her initial reaction to his apology, the more he respected her. Shelley's strength did not lessen her femininity--on the contrary, it added a depth that both intrigued him and put him in his place. Her reaction was something he could see his mother or Sierra having, and that endeared her to him even more.
A short while later, Shelley came to sit with the others. "This is glorious. It feels so free being on the water. If I lived here I'd go boating every week."
There was a time when Quinn had gone boating that often, but that was before becoming focused on his career.
"It's not always this smooth," he said. "The bay can be fickle. Calm one minute and stirring up a squall the next."
"But that's the adventure in nature, isn't it? That's what makes it feel like you're just on the edge of being in control. That's what makes it so beautiful."
And it was that outlook that made Shelley so beautiful. In addition to being the sexiest woman he'd ever set eyes on, her beauty radiated from within because she looked at her whole life as an adventure. And in doing so, she'd reawakened his adventurous side, sparking memories that made him want to join her in rediscovering the things he'd missed out on over the past ten years. Being with Shelley made him realize that when he'd become consumed with growing his business, he'd left behind the joy in the very things that had driven him toward his success. Great things like the adrenaline rush from being out on the water and the anticipation of finally snagging a clam with his fingertips.
He wished they were alone on the boat so that he could tell her what he was feeling. But not only were they not alone, he also had a lesson to teach.
"The first and most important thing you must know about sailing is the direction the wind is blowing."
Georgette shot to her feet. "I know how to do that." She licked her finger and held it up, then turned her body until the wind was blowing in her face. Her lips curved into a smile. "Here it is!"