Cape Cod Kisses

by Melissa Foster

  Chandler shifted in his wheelchair. “You expect me to hand over all facets of the resort without a fight?” His tone was gruff.

  “Only if you want us to agree to run the resort. The choice is yours.” Trent spoke with confidence. “One year. All five of us or none at all. And you’re completely hands-off.”

  Chandler’s unyielding eyes swept over each of his grandchildren. His face was as stern as it had been for the last thirty years. “And you will all live on the island at least ninety-five percent of the time?”

  Quinn and Derek exchanged an irritated glance. Quinn didn’t believe for a second that he would actually need to live on the island full-time to help run the resort for the next year, and he knew Derek definitely didn’t. He was fairly certain Trent wouldn’t want to stay here either, given the way he carefully avoided Reese whenever he was visiting. Although Trent kept his feelings so close to his chest when it came to his ex-wife that it was anybody’s guess what was going on in his mind.

  “Ninety-five percent of the time, with the exception of family-related emergencies or other unforeseen circumstances related to our own businesses. For example, if someone has to go to the hospital off the island.”

  “I will take this under consideration and get back to you by the end of next week,” Chandler said.

  “Next week?” Derek snapped. “I have a—”

  Trent glared at Derek, then returned an even stare to their grandfather. “Our offer is valid for forty-eight hours. Not a second longer.” He turned to his siblings, giving them the nod that they were through. “Good day, Grandfather.”

  They filed out of his office, Derek and Quinn with clenched fists, and stalked toward the elevators.

  Ethan placed a hand on Trent’s shoulder. “Well played.”

  “He’ll never agree to back out of having any decision-making power,” Derek said. “You know he’ll come back with another asinine demand.”

  “I don’t think so.” Sierra pulled the clips from her hair and shook her bun free. “I think he wants all of you here on the island for some reason. I have no idea why, but knowing him, it’s just another warped form of trying to take control.”

  The elevator doors opened and Jane Moore stepped out. Jane was the entertainment director for the hotel. Her long blond hair was pinned up, and a pencil was tucked over her ear. She carried a clipboard close to her chest. Her white blouse and black pencil skirt made her look a little like a waitress. She was in her midtwenties and had worked part-time at the resort in various positions during high school and full-time since graduating from college.

  “Bad mood or good mood?” She nodded toward Chandler’s office.

  “Is he ever in a good mood?” Derek grumbled.

  Jane grimaced. “Our sailing instructor has the flu, and the backup was called off the island for a family emergency. I need Mr. Rockwell’s okay on who to pull in for this, because we’re really short-staffed this week.”

  “I’ll do it,” Quinn said, surprising everyone.

  He still had a ton of work to do, but he was too wound up to work effectively right now. Sailing was exactly what he needed to clear his head of his grandfather’s demands—and his frustration over the fact that he still hadn’t had a chance to see Shelley again this morning and apologize to her for being such a jerk the night before. He was planning to run down to her cottage again now, but he knew the odds were low that she’d be there when another spontaneous island adventure likely waited. And the longer it took for him to let her know how deeply sorry he was, the worse chance there was that she’d ever forgive him for it.

  “You’re a lifesaver,” Jane said, relief written all over her face. “You’ll need to use the second line boat, because one of the guests has already taken out the boat that’s usually used for the course. I also hear the rigging is a bit messy.” She checked her watch. “The class starts in an hour, so you should have plenty of time to get it under control.”

  “I’ll be down at the dock in time for the class.”

  With that, he turned to head back to his grandfather’s office, but Trent grabbed his arm.

  “You’re not going back in there, are you?”

  Quinn looked his brother in the eye. “Whatever Chandler is up to, he’s handling us in the worst possible way by getting all of our backs up. Especially when not one of us would ever let the family down. Someone needs to set him straight and remind him of that fact.”

  With a nod, Trent let his arm go. “Just try to keep your cool, okay?”

  Instead of barreling back into his grandfather’s office, Quinn decided to take Trent’s sage advice and cool down first. As a successful businessman, he knew anger was like cancer—it spread and did nothing to diffuse a situation, only made it more rotten.

  Quinn was drawing in a deep breath and unclenching his hands when Didi’s voice came into focus.

  “Your grandchildren take after you, Mr. Rockwell.”

  Quinn shook his head. The poor woman didn’t have a clue that opening her mouth about them to the old man was the kiss of death.

  “I didn’t hire you to talk or evaluate my family,” he heard his grandfather reply. “I hired you to heal me so I can get back to work and run this resort.”

  As if Chandler hadn’t said a word, Didi continued. “They’re just as tough as you are. Just as determined.”

  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 café. What did you hear?”

  “Let’s go find everyone else. I’ll tell you once we’re all together.”

  The café 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 café. 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.