"Always," he said. And the truth was that it would be so easy--and so damn good--just to lose himself in making love with her again. But he didn't feel right about keeping anything from her. Not when she needed to know. "Shell, Chandler accepted our terms yesterday. We're taking over the resort. So the good news is that I'll be here pretty often."
"Of course I'm thrilled that you'll be here more, but I'm sure it's going to be really difficult to run your business and be tied to the resort at the same time." Her eyes widened as she said, "Wait... Didn't you say you were going to leave as soon as you hashed out the resort stuff? But you're still here."
He looked at her for a long moment, trying to figure out how such an easygoing person could make him feel so intensely. "I do have to head back to Annapolis, but I wanted more time with you, so I'm staying until we sign the papers."
"Quinn," she whispered. "I don't want to come between you and the work you need to get done. You'll resent me."
"No, I'll never resent you. But I do need to leave soon because there are things going on with the merger and one of our key employees that require my attention." He stroked her soft skin as he told her, "I really didn't want to disappoint you last night and cancel our date, and now I want to help you get settled in the cottage."
"But I know how much you have to--"
He pressed his lips to hers, silencing her in the most delicious way.
"Let me worry about work. I don't want you to worry, too." He paused for a moment and looked into her beautiful eyes. "How would you feel about having a long-distance relationship with me?"
"Quinn Rockwell," she said, her lips curving up at the corners, "are you asking me to go steady?"
"I know you said you didn't want to talk about details last night, but I want to be with you when I'm here."
"And know I'm not with anyone else when you're not?" She kissed his chin.
"You make me sound possessive." He caressed the curve of her bare hip. "Which I am. Especially when it comes to you, Shell. I don't want anyone else to see you like this. To feel you like this. To kiss you like this." Her mouth was warm and sweet beneath his.
"I want to be with you, too, Quinn. Only you, long distance or not."
The passion in her kiss sent a shudder of desire to his core. His hands continued to play over her waist and hips as their mouths came together. He nipped at her lower lip, her jaw, her neck, then kissed his way to her breast, grazing her sensitive skin with his teeth.
"Mm. I like your possessive side," she teased as she reached between them to touch him, too.
With a tormented groan, he drew back long enough to grab a condom from the bedside table.
"Hurry," she whispered as he tore the packet open with his teeth.
Shelley held on to his biceps, her eyes bright with heady anticipation and need. Just like last night, he had to link their hands, had to hold her close and watch her expression of bliss as he moved inside of her, one slow, hard inch at a time.
Her head fell back and her hips arched as they found their rhythm. Her hips rose to meet his again and again in a heated dance of desire. Desire and deep emotion that pounded through him with every beat of his heart. Need for Shelley coiled deep inside him, spreading with every sexy moan, every heady breath that escaped her lips. And then a mischievous smile curved her lips as she moved her hips in a circular motion, nearly dragging him over the edge.
"Holy hell, Shelley..."
"You're not the only one who can torture and tease."
But when their mouths came together again, their impatient, savage desires took over. He pulled her knee up, holding it beneath his arm as he drove in deeper.
"Oh God...Quinn..."
She was every fantasy he'd ever had rolled into one extraordinary woman. As he reached between them to drive her even wilder, her mouth latched on to his neck, and she sucked just hard enough to blow his mind.
"I'm not going to last." Heat rippled down his spine. He quickened his pace, chasing his mounting release.
A string of words fell from her mouth, words he wasn't even sure she knew she was saying. Yes. Please. More. So good. Don't stop.
But he couldn't stop if his life depended on it. Tingling sensations stroked down his spine just as she gave a sharp cry of pleasure, then gasped out his name, her hips bucking off the mattress. She clawed at his back as he spiraled into his own intense release.
Quinn had never felt as in sync with anyone as he was with Shelley. And as they lay with their bodies intertwined, their hearts going a little crazy in the aftermath of their lovemaking, he knew he was right where he belonged.
SHELLEY COULDN'T STOP looking at the tall, dark, intense man standing on the porch of the cottage she hoped to rent.
Last night had changed everything. The closeness she felt to him in every kiss, every caress, had deepened after he'd admitted that he was falling for her. And then this morning he'd loved her fast and hard, like he couldn't resist, as if she might run away, even though he was the one who would be leaving soon.
Quinn turned, catching her midstare. With a smile, he came through the glass doors, folded her into his arms, and lowered his mouth to hers, obviously not caring that the Realtor was standing a few feet away in the kitchen.
She loved his kisses and the way they filled her with not only such need, but also such a warm sensation of completeness. Even though she knew he was leaving soon, she could so easily imagine him walking through the door of this cottage at the end of a long workday and taking her in his arms. They would fall into bed together every night and then wake with their bodies tangled together every morning. If he were here, they would watch the waves roll in from the deck in the summer and share a mug of hot cider while watching the snow falling in the winter.
"My mom is having a family dinner Wednesday night. Will you come with me?"
"You want me to come to dinner at your parents' house?" She knew they'd already talked about dating exclusively, but formally meeting his parents was a big deal--and that also meant that he planned to stay at least through Wednesday, which delighted her to no end.
"I'm going to be gone a lot, Shell. And I'll feel better knowing you've got people who really know and care about you here on the island."
People who care. She'd spent so many years feeling as though the only people who cared were her aunt and Taryn, and since her aunt passed away, there was only Taryn.
"You've already met most of my family," he continued, "but dinner would be a great way for you to get to know everyone better."
"You don't have to convince me. I'd love to come."
"My mom will be thrilled." He took her hand and turned to look at the cottage again. "So, what do you think of the cottage? Still want to rent it?"
"I knew before I ever walked inside that it was right for me. But now that I've been inside?" She gave a little happy sigh as she took in the details of the beautiful, cozy cottage. "It's perfect. And it even comes furnished."
It smelled of fresh paint, which explained why the furniture was draped with tarps. The hardwood floors were scuffed and marred, which gave the cottage character. Shelley was toying with making the first-floor bedroom into an office. Across from the living room was an open kitchen, and between the kitchen and bedroom were the stairs leading up to the master bedroom.
They went upstairs to the master suite, which spanned the width of the house. It had an expansive view of the bay through French doors leading out to a deck. Shelley stood in front of the window, itching to sign the papers. Quinn wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.
"Can you see yourself living here?"
She turned to him and gazed into his blue eyes. "Yes. Definitely."
"And you don't have any reservations?"
"Not one." Not about you and not about this adorable cottage.
He searched her eyes, his own expression growing more intense as he said, "I can see it, too. All of it, Shell."
She didn't know if he meant just for her or for both of
them, but the way he tightened his arms around her waist made her think the latter. She tried not to let her imagination run wild, but when he cupped her cheeks and pressed his lips to hers, it was hard not to.
"You're right," he said as he stroked his hand across her cheek and sent delicious shivers running through her. "It's perfect. Absolutely perfect."
"It's a lovely view, isn't it?"
Shelley whipped around at the sound of the Realtor's voice. Cara Roeden was in her early thirties, with auburn hair, misty green eyes, and apparently the ninja-like ability to sneak up on people.
"Yes, it's really beautiful. I think I'd like to rent it. If I'm approved, how quickly can I move in?"
"Are you in a hurry?"
"I was supposed to leave Friday, but I was thinking that if it won't take too long to work out the rental details, I'll delay my departure and just move right on in."
"I'm certain that the owner would be pleased with the prospect of a quick rental. It shouldn't take long to process the paperwork."
They spent the next few hours dealing with the rental agreement and the required documentation. Collecting her historical business financials took only a few clicks, thankfully. Who knew that changing her life could be so easy?
And she was surprised, in the best possible way, that Quinn stayed by her side the whole time instead of going back to his suite to tackle more of his work. He also offered to vouch for her on the rental agreement, which would have expedited the process even more, but Shelley was too independent to take him up on that. She knew her business would stand up to the renter's background inspection.
By the time they left Cara's office they had an appointment with a commercial real estate agent to find a location for her cafe, and Shelley was on pins and needles with excitement.
All of her dreams were coming true on Rockwell Island. The beautiful town. A family to care for her.
And, most important of all, love.
Chapter Twenty
"THANKS FOR SHOWING us around, Tim," Shelley said to the commercial real estate agent a short while later, "but none of these spaces are speaking to me."
"Those are the only three prime business locations currently available to rent that have the kind of foot traffic you need." Tim Clarey, the commercial agent Cara had connected them with, was short, stout, and patient. "I'll let you know right away if anything new pops up," Tim promised her as they walked back outside.
"I still believe fate brought me here to put down roots," Shelley said to Quinn as they headed away from the storefront, hand in hand. He made little circles with his thumb on her palm, loving the way she always got a little breathless when he teased her this way. Hell, when he teased them both. "But all these spaces have been horrible."
Fate wasn't something Quinn normally bought into, but how could he deny that he and Shelley were destined to meet? They lived minutes apart from each other in Maryland, he'd been to her coffee shop, and out of all the places she could have chosen for her solo honeymoon, she'd chosen his island.
It was as if their worlds were destined to collide.
Was it fate that brought them both to Mill Cove last Friday night? Was it fate that put him on the sailboat the day of her lesson? And if it was, what else did fate have in store for them?
As if beckoned, the answer to her cafe location problem suddenly popped into his head.
"I've got something to show you." He spun them around so that they were heading north on Main Street toward the old gristmill.
"Where are we going?" She hurried to keep pace with him. "You heard what Tim said. There aren't any other places available right now that would offer foot traffic, and without foot traffic, a cafe would sink. Even a really good one."
He heard the disappointment in her voice and stopped walking. But he had no chance of restraining the smile that stretched across his cheeks, and he was too excited to even try to temper it. "Do you trust me?"
She didn't hesitate for even a second. "I do."
After giving her a quick--and very hot--kiss to let her know how much having her trust meant to him, he led her up the block, then turned down the next street. The shops on Mill Row were unlike the other commercial streets in town. They set up sidewalk displays and were more geared toward the arts. Together they weaved through the busy sidewalk, past a photography gallery where Shelley slowed to look over a few of the pictures.
"Quinn! I haven't seen you in months." Todd MacGuire owned the gallery, and they had gone to school together.
"Todd, this is my girlfriend, Shelley Walters." The look in her eyes told him that she liked hearing him say the word girlfriend as much as he liked saying it.
"It's nice to meet you, Shelley. Do you live in Maryland, too?"
"I do, but I'm moving to the island soon." They chatted for a few minutes about the island and her coffee shop, until they were interrupted by a customer and Todd excused himself.
They passed the Whalers Museum and the Little Shop of Sweaters, and then Shelley stopped in front of Trent's ex-wife, Reese Nicholson's, place--a gallery called Dandelion--to take it all in.
"This whole street is so full of life. I love the brightly colored shutters on the shops and the sidewalk displays. It feels very artsy."
"Locals call this Mill Row." He took her gently by the shoulders and turned her so that she could see why he'd brought her here. "And this is the old gristmill. It's been vacant for as long as I can remember."
Shelley drew in a deep breath as she looked at the old gristmill across the street, sitting stately beyond a line of tall bushes. She took a step forward, as if she couldn't resist its pull. "Is it for rent?"
"I'll have to check into it to be positive, but I'm pretty sure it is."
They hurried up the grassy hill, and her excitement was contagious as they slipped between two overgrown bushes and the property came into view. The building was larger than most of the shops in town and resembled a two-story house rather than a business, with four windows upstairs and two big picture windows on either side of the front door. The cedar siding was gray with age, and the white trim brought it to life. Overgrown gardens swallowed most of the large front yard. An iron railing spanned the length of the side yard and overlooked Mill Brook. The gardens and the babbling brook were enough to make anyone realize the appeal of the property, but what set the mill even farther apart from any other location in the area was the enormous historic waterwheel attached to the side of the building, powered by the brook. Quinn knew that the inside of the building would need renovations, but there were plenty of capable hands on the island--heck, in his family alone!--that could easily bring the mill back to life.
"I can see it so clearly." Shelley swept her hand out, indicating the rough wooden deck that covered the area in front of the front door. "Tables with beautiful umbrellas overlooking the brook. Listen to the water, Quinn. Isn't it soothing?"
He was so busy watching her fall in love with the property that he barely heard the question, and before he could answer, she added, "And even if the mill doesn't work, we could probably get it functioning enough to catch water. If the property actually is available, it's going to be amazing."
Nodding his agreement, Quinn joined her by the railing. Beyond the front bushes, there was a breathtaking view of Mill Row and residential streets peppered with homes that led to the glorious blue bay. "The town acquired it about three years ago, after Charley Mill passed away. He had family off the island, but he left the mill to the town."
"Charley Mill? Mill Row? Mill Cove?" She gripped his shirt and gazed up at him. "Are they all connected?"
"Yes, they are. See? You really are fated to be here."
Shelley threw her arms around Quinn's waist. "This feels like what I've been searching for my whole life."
Quinn wanted to tell her that she was what he'd been searching for, but the truth was that he hadn't been searching. Instead, Shelley had come unexpectedly into his life on the island right when he was looking to get off of it.
/> And now, just as unexpectedly, he didn't want to leave anymore.
SHELLEY SAT WITH Quinn, her feet tucked beneath her on the sofa in the honeymoon cottage, feeling as though her life had finally shifted into place. After finding the gristmill and falling in love with it, Quinn had made a call to his mother, who sat on the town planning committee. Abby used her connections to get the scoop on the property, and within two hours she had tracked down the town officials who would need to approve the sale and arranged to have the property opened for Shelley and Quinn to look inside.
But Shelley hadn't much cared what the inside looked like. The feeling she'd had the first time she'd set her eyes on the gristmill was the same one she'd felt when she'd first seen Mill Cove and had decided to go skinny-dipping. She was drawn to it like metal to magnet.
It was, she thought with a smile, the same way she felt every time she looked at Quinn.
The interior of the mill had been dusty with the scent of old wood hanging in the air. Wide-planked and scarred wooden floors told of years of millwork, and in the center of the first floor was a big grinding stone with the bed and runner stones still in place. The gears in Shelley's mind were already turning. She'd keep that beautiful grinding stone in place for customers to enjoy, maybe even put up a little information piece about it with the history of the mill.
A narrow stairwell led to a second floor, which could be perfect as living space or rented out as a separate shop for a local artist. She'd learned that until the mid-1960s, when most of the Mill family moved to the mainland, the mill had been used to grind cornmeal for the island, and it had remained empty ever since. With a little airing out, a lot of cleaning up, and the addition of shelves and work space, she knew it would be perfect for the cafe. Intimate and filled with character.
She stretched her legs across the couch and tucked her toes beneath Quinn's thigh. They'd spent the late afternoon working side by side. He read through reports while Shelley worked on logistics for moving her business--and, of course, they kissed each other constantly. Long-distance relationships had never sounded very good to her, but if it meant being with Quinn, then she was up for anything. Especially, she thought with a wicked grin, a little break. One that involved a heck of a lot less clothes...