Cape Cod Kisses (7 page)

Griffin rose to his feet, leaving no room for negotiation, and Abby gave each of them a kiss on their cheeks before leaving with him.

“That went well,” Derek said in a sarcastic voice. Sierra looked miserable. Trent was studying the document their grandfather had given them to find some sort of loophole in their grandfather’s plan. And Ethan was obviously dying to get back out into his fishing boat to try to forget about the whole thing.

This had been one of Quinn’s worst days in recent memory, and he didn’t think anything could turn it around. At least not until he looked up and saw Shelley come through the door.

Last night she’d been the one unexpectedly bright part of his day. If he had any luck left at all, maybe she’d be able to do the impossible and brighten up this one, too.

SHELLEY WAS EVEN more beautiful than Quinn remembered. In the light of day, her skin glistened with the sheen of a fresh tan. Her dark hair was sexily mussed, cascading in thick waves over her bare shoulders, and she wore a loose, casual spaghetti-strap top with a pair of jeans shorts. Vividly remembering dragging her hips into his and her gasp of pleasure as he'd taken their kiss even deeper, when he saw that her eyes were dancing over the bar like she was looking for someone, he hoped like hell it was him.

“We need to think things over and come up with a game plan, despite what Dad said. Let’s reconvene tomorrow morning over breakfast?” Trent suggested.

Quinn was only half listening, though, because Ray Brewster, a guy who’d grown up with them on the island, had just put his hand on Shelley’s lower back. Quinn’s jaw tightened as Brewster leaned in close and said something to her. Whatever it was, Quinn wanted the guy’s hand off Shelley’s back.
Now.

“Quinn?” Trent waved a hand in front of his face. “Tomorrow morning work for you?”

“Sure.” He rose to his feet.

“Where are you going?” Trent followed Quinn’s gaze. “Oh. Is that her? Cove girl?”

“Shelley,” Quinn corrected him. He’d told Trent about meeting Shelley at the cove, although he’d left out the details of the skinny-dipping and the kiss.

Trent laughed under his breath. “Looks like Brewster is making a move. You’d better go claim her.”

In his mind he already had. They hadn’t done more than walk from the cove to the cottage in the moonlight and share one incredible kiss, but it was a kiss—and an evening—that Quinn knew he’d never forget. Shelley was the only woman who had ever claimed one hundred percent of his attention, and the only woman to ever make him
want
so wildly, so possessively. And though he knew she’d been a little tipsy, he had a feeling that even so, he had seen the real Shelley. Sweet and passionate. Nice, yet a little bit naughty, too.

All day long he’d been dealing with his family and the resort. He’d hoped to get over to the beach to see if he could catch her to ask her out for a drink, but between dealing with his grandfather, his family, and his business, he’d barely had the chance to even take a full breath.

Now all he wanted to do was forget about all of that for a little while so that he could focus on Shelley.

Which meant getting her away from Ray Brewster, for a start. Ray wasn’t a bad guy. On the contrary, he was a nice, trustworthy guy—and in a minute he’d be a nice guy who didn’t have a shot at Shelley.

Shelley turned as Quinn approached, and when their eyes locked, the path between them immediately blazed with heat, just as it had last night. “Shelley, I was just thinking about you, hoping I’d see you again.”

Her breathing visibly hitched at his words and he nearly grabbed her right then and there in front of everyone to kiss her.

“I was hoping to see you again, too, Quinn.”

Brewster’s hand immediately slid from her back.

Perfect
.

“Hey, Rockwell,” Brewster said. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen all of your brothers and Sierra in one place. How’s it going?”

Quinn had to work hard not to grunt like a Neanderthal as he quickly replied, “Things are great, Brewster. Hope they’re good for you, too,” then turned his attention back to Shelley.

But when Quinn looked into her eyes again, he was surprised to see that she looked slightly stunned. “Rockwell? As in Rockwell Island? As in Rockwell Resort?”

Quinn was used to women gushing over his familial wealth and the extra-flirtatious giggles and touches they lavished him with when they found out that he was a Rockwell, even if he didn’t care for it.

“Yes, that Rockwell.” He nodded to the table behind him. “That’s my family.”

In an instant, the shimmer of desire that had sparked between them when he’d found her in the bar all but disappeared. But before he could even get a chance to ask Shelley what he’d said—or done—wrong, Quinn felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Quinn, honey,” his mother said, “in all the hullabaloo, I forgot my purse.”

He’d been so lost in Shelley that he hadn’t seen his mother come back into the restaurant.

“Shelley.” His mother smiled warmly. “I’m so glad you made it.”

“Thank you, Abby,” Shelley said, although her voice sounded a bit strained now. “Your directions were perfect.”

“And I see you’ve already met Quinn.”

Abby applied gentle pressure to the hand on Quinn’s shoulder in a way that reminded him of when he was twelve and had won a sailing medal. Before going up to accept the award, his mother had touched him on his lower back, giving him a gentle nudge forward.

But he didn’t need a nudge toward Shelley. He was ready to sprint toward her.

Only, somewhere between the look of desire they’d shared when he’d first walked up to her in the bar and when she’d learned his last name, their connection—or rather,
her
connection—seemed to have been severed.

He couldn’t believe he was on the verge of losing the brightest part of this whole trip back to the island.

“Sierra, honey. Come here for a moment.” His mother waved his sister over. “I want you to meet Shelley. She owns a gourmet coffee shop off the island, and I was thinking it would be great for the two of you to get together to chat about all the possibilities for a café like that here on Rockwell Island.”

“It’s great to meet you, Shelley, and I’d love to talk about possibilities,” Sierra said.

Quinn could see by the silent questions in his sister’s eyes that she’d also already noticed his interest in Shelley.

“I’m afraid I have another meeting to go to right now,” Sierra said. “But let’s be sure to get together soon. I’m usually here at the restaurant, or you can come by my house. I live in the bungalow at the end of Shore Road, right on the beach, and if the light’s on, it means I’m home.” She jotted down her phone number and handed it to Shelley. “Why don’t you give me your number, too?”

Shelley wrote down her number, then handed it to Sierra. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

As both his mother and sister headed out of the bar, Shelley took a step away from him as if she were planning to follow them out.

Quinn touched her elbow before she could go, not at all surprised by how electric that one small touch felt. “Have a drink with me?”

Something dark flashed in her eyes, almost as if she was warring with herself for the heat sparking between them. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Not a good idea?
Women usually clamored to tie him and his brothers down, and she thought a drink wasn’t a good idea? Hadn’t she been the one to kiss him last night? And hadn't the kiss blown both their minds?

“How about a walk on the beach, then?”

“Honestly,
this
”—she pointed her finger between them—“is probably not a good idea.” She sighed and shifted her eyes away, but not before Quinn saw the struggle in them. “You’re a
Rockwell
, and I’m…”

“Not going to hold it against me?” he teased to try to lighten the mood.

A soft laugh escaped her lips—the same laughter that had caught his attention last night at the cove and played again and again in his head in the early hours of the morning. The sweet and sexy sound tugged at his heart in a way that he didn’t understand or recognize. But at the same time he couldn’t, and didn’t want to, ignore it.

Whatever her reason for not wanting to spend time with him anymore, he was determined to change her mind. “I could tell by how comfortable you were in the cove last night that you really love the island, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then I promise you’re going to
really
love this secret spot that tourists don’t even know exists.”

Quinn put his hand on the small of her back, hoping she’d let him lead her toward the door. He felt the eyes of his family on them, but he didn’t care. He didn’t know how long Shelley was on the island, but he didn’t want to take a chance that she’d leave without him having a chance to get to know her better.

“Do you really have a secret place that no one knows about?”

Thankfully, some of the tension had gone out of her voice by the time they got out to the sidewalk. He drew his brows together in what he hoped was a serious look and tried hard not to smile as he said, “I really do,” in a conspiratorial whisper. “Can I trust you to keep it just between us?”

Her eyes lit with curiosity before she shrugged and said, “That depends how good of a secret it is.”

“Oh, it’s good.” He couldn't keep his gaze from dropping to her mouth as the wild thrill from their kiss hit him all over again. “Really good.”

She trapped her lower lip in her teeth, and her eyes widened with excitement.

Oh yeah, he knew just how to get this special adventurous woman’s attention.

“Just as long as you don’t mind getting a little dirty.”

Her lips curved into a mischievous smile. “Are you kidding? I
love
getting dirty.”

Their eyes held for a long moment as desire sparked again, fast and hot. He hated to break the connection, but if he didn’t, his lips were going to find their way to hers, and even though he was dying to taste her again, he didn’t think that was the best way to win her over…
yet
.

Instead, he went for another kind of connection, by slipping her hand into his. She looked down at their hands in surprise.

Has no one ever held her hand before?

It had been a long time since Quinn had held a woman’s hand, but he liked the way her fingers fit perfectly between his. Liked it a lot, actually.

His life was so busy that when he did make time to date, it usually included dinner at a fancy restaurant, a few drinks, and then a quick stress-relieving roll between the sheets—at the woman’s house—before he made his exit at the end of the evening, swift and on his terms. Dating rarely included getting to know the women very well. Mostly because he’d never met a woman he wanted to take time to get to know.

Until Shelley.

“So,” he asked, “are you up for having a little adventure with me today?”

She studied his face for a few long moments, each of which had him holding his breath as he waited for her answer. But then, finally, she smiled up at him, turning his dark day so much brighter as she said, “Take me to your secret place, Quinn.”

THE MINUTE SHELLEY found out that Quinn was part of the Rockwell family, her stomach had taken a nosedive.

She’d spent her childhood with a father who worked too much and a mother who cared too much about her place in society for either of them to have time for a relationship with their own daughter. Her father had regarded her with the coldness of a business associate, offering a brief hug only when it was socially expected, like at her high school graduation. Her mother had been only slightly warmer, assessing Shelley’s outfit and “fixing” her wild hair each morning before the driver took her to school.

Shelley didn’t want a lifestyle—or a relationship—like her parents. Which meant that a hot island fling with Quinn
Rockwell
was off the table.

At least, until he'd led her outside and she began to see a playful side of him that her father and her friends’ husbands had never shown.

Thinking of the seductive glimmer that had been in his eyes when he’d made the comment about
getting dirty
made her smile. Yes, he was still a Rockwell, but she supposed it couldn’t hurt to give him an afternoon to try to prove her wrong about all rich men being self-absorbed and materialistic, could it? Especially considering how good he looked with his white T-shirt hugging his firm, broad chest...and how nice it felt to hold his hand.

Last night she’d been too stunned by being caught skinny-dipping at the deserted cove—and too fuzzy from the bubbly—to fully appreciate just how gorgeous he was. Or how power simply radiated out from him. Despite the fact that he was wearing casual clothes instead of a suit and that she didn’t yet know what he did for a living, she could easily imagine him presiding over a boardroom, making multimillion-dollar decisions. He’d been so strong when he’d picked her up out of the water last night, and now his hand was equally strong and unexpectedly gentle over hers as he led her through town.

Upon waking this morning and thinking about what had happened last night, he’d been a mystery to her. Now that she was with him again, she found him to be even more of a mystery than ever—the sexy, powerful man who could be so gentle with her and sweet with his mother and sister, too.

A mystery that she was more and more tempted to unravel, despite her lingering doubts about getting involved with a wealthy Rockwell. Especially when just holding his hand was doing crazy things to her insides...

As they walked hand in hand through town, past the library, a park overflowing with flowers, and a baseball diamond, he asked, “So you own a coffee shop?”

She had to pause to focus for a moment on what he'd just asked her. With his hand over hers all she could think about was pulling him into her for another kiss. But she couldn't, not yet. Not when she still needed more proof that he wasn't just like every other rich, preoccupied guy out there.

“Yes,” she finally answered. “My café is in Severn, Maryland.”

They stopped to let a car pass, and Quinn looked at her in surprise.