Cape Cod Kisses

by Melissa Foster

  “You’re welcome,” she said before asking, “For what?”

  “For reminding me to live my life.” He took her in a kiss that started gentle and sweet, but quickly turned wild and desperate.

  “If that’s how you always thank me, maybe I should remind you more often.”

  His phone forgotten, at least for the moment, they walked hand in hand up the stone walkway, kissing every few steps. Shelley had expected the Rockwells to live in an opulent mansion overlooking the bay. She was right about the waterfront location, but their modest Cape Cod–style home was nothing like the lavish estate she’d imagined. It was cedar sided, with beautiful gardens in the front and side yards. The house sat up high on a bluff overlooking the water, with woods bordering both sides of a lush green lawn.

  “What a wonderful house! I wish my parents’ house was like this one. Growing up, our house always felt like a museum, even from the outside.”

  “That sounds just like my grandfather’s wing of the resort,” Quinn told her. “But my parents have never lived like that. When we were growing up, I shared a room with Trent. Derek and Ethan shared a room, and only Sierra had her own room. My brothers and I had bunk beds, because two twin beds took up the whole bedroom. If we ever got too big for our britches and complained about wanting our own space, my mom would point to the backyard and say, Pup tents are really easy to set up. Have at it.”

  “I think I like your mom even more now.”

  Shelley was delighted with these new discoveries. She never imagined that a family as wealthy as the Rockwells would be content living in such a moderately sized home. Yet again she chided herself for lumping all wealthy people together. Especially since that was the stereotype she’d spent her life trying to avoid.

  Quinn held tightly to Shelley’s hand, looking handsome in a pair of jeans and a collared shirt. “Are you nervous?”

  “Not really nervous, just…” She trapped her lower lip between her teeth. She’d anguished over what to wear and had changed her clothes several times before finally deciding on a colorful halter dress and a cute pair of strappy sandals. “Okay, maybe I am a little nervous.”

  He nipped at her lower lip that she'd been biting, sending heat pouring through her as he said, “My mom and dad and Sierra and Trent already met and really like you. Dinner tonight will give you a chance to get to know everyone better and for them to fall for you just like I have.”

  Fall for you. She’d never tire of hearing that. Just like she knew she'd never grow tired of his kisses, or holding his hand.

  Shelley yelped at the feel of a cold, wet nose against the back of her thigh.

  “Chugger!” One of Quinn’s brothers came around the back of the house and knelt to call the rambunctious pup. “Hey, guys. Glad you made it.” He rose to his feet and eyed his dog. “Sit.” Chugger sat beside him, wagging his tail excitedly.

  “Hi. I’m Ethan. It’s great to meet you.” He was as broad and tall as Quinn, with wavier hair and thick scruff covering his strong chin. Ethan’s eyes were as dark brown as Quinn’s were piercing blue, and while Ethan had a naturally relaxed gaze, Quinn’s was darker, more serious.

  Seriously sexier.

  Still, Shelley understood why Quinn had reacted so strongly to her joke about being interested in Ethan. He was a very good-looking guy, but Quinn needn’t worry. There wasn’t a man alive who could draw her attention away from him.

  “I’m Shelley, and it’s great to meet you, too. Although I already met Chugger the other day.”

  Ethan looked surprised. “You did? Where?”

  “He was on the beach with your grandfather and Didi.” She crouched to pet Chugger, and the pup licked her cheek. “Aren’t you adorable?” She’d always loved dogs, although they’d traveled too much for her to have one when she was a kid, and as an adult she’d been too busy to make the time for one. Maybe once she was settled on the island she’d consider adopting one.

  “You met our grandfather?” Ethan asked. “That must have been a joy.” He turned to Quinn. “You didn’t rescue her from the old man’s bite?”

  “I didn’t need rescuing, actually.” Shelley rose to her feet. “Your grandfather seems stern, but…” She looked at Quinn, remembering the softening around Chandler’s eyes when she’d said she was falling for his grandson. “I think below his gruff exterior there’s a warm heart. It’s just buried deep.”

  “Really?” Ethan didn’t look particularly convinced. “Well, I suppose it’s good that someone thinks that.” The brother Sierra had called the “strong and silent” one gestured to the backyard. “Everyone’s outside. Sierra and Mom have been talking about you all week, Shelley, so I know everyone’s dying to spend some time getting to know you better.”

  White lights were strung from tall iron poles around the stone patio, giving the gorgeous evening a festive glow. Sierra was leaning over a table set for eight, fiddling with a vase, when she noticed Quinn and Shelley.

  “You’re here!” She ran over and hugged Shelley.

  Shelley couldn’t hide her smile as she wrapped her arms around Quinn’s sister. Maybe it was crazy, but even though they hadn’t known each other very long, she felt like they had already become close friends. Then again, that wasn’t any crazier than falling head over heels in love with Quinn so quickly, was it?

  “Hey, sis,” Quinn said to Sierra as he gave her a warm hug.

  Ethan called out to Quinn to come take a look at something, and as soon as Sierra and Shelley were alone, Sierra said, “I heard you’re thinking of buying the gristmill.”

  “News travels fast,” Shelley said with a smile. “I’m just waiting to hear from the town, actually.”

  Over her shoulder, she could see Quinn asking her the silent question: Are you okay? She nodded, smiled, and turned her attention back to Sierra just as Griffin and Abby headed their way.

  “Shelley, welcome.” Abby opened her arms and embraced her.

  Shelley was struck once again by how different Abby was from her own mother. Quinn’s mother had a warmth about her that put Shelley instantly at ease.

  “Abby, thank you so much for allowing me to crash your family dinner.”

  “Crash all you’d like. The more the merrier in this house. Especially when I can see how smitten my son is with you.”

  Smitten.

  Shelley could feel her cheeks flush at the lovely comment. Even lovelier because it had come from Quinn’s mother, who would only want the very best for her children.

  Abby turned as Griffin draped an arm over her shoulder and kissed her cheek, magnifying another difference between her parents and Quinn’s. Shelley’s parents’ idea of open affection was air kissing each other’s cheeks.

  “Shelley,” Griff said, “we’re all so glad you could join us tonight.”

  “Thank you. You have a lovely home”—Quinn’s laughter at something his brothers were saying on the other side of the patio turned her head—“with a spectacular view.”

  Sierra chuckled. “I know you think Quinn is the best view on the island, but this one is way better.” She pointed behind them to the bay.

  Shelley laughed to try to hide her embarrassment. “I didn’t mean…”

  “It’s okay if you did.” Griff leaned in close and lowered his voice. “Quinn’s a good-looking guy. He gets it from his old man.”

  “Yes, he does. Now, leave the poor girl alone before you make her blush.” Abby dragged Griff away.

  “Are you uncomfortable yet?” Sierra teased.

  “Oh my gosh.” Shelley lowered her voice and said, “You and your parents just caught me drooling over your brother.”

  Sierra shrugged. “We didn’t mean to embarrass you. Especially since we’re all really excited that Quinn brought you along. My dad was just telling me how he’d never seen Quinn look happier than he’s been this past week.”

  “Really? I mean, he seems happy, and I know how happy I am.”

  “Really,” Sierra said. “Look at him.”
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  Quinn stood between Trent and Ethan, across from Derek. The others were intent on hearing whatever Derek was saying, but Quinn’s attention was locked on Shelley. The heat and adoration in his eyes were both impossible to miss.

  To her he stood out from his brothers. Though they were all tall and broad, none of the others made her insides flutter like Quinn did. Even the look he gave her now was as caring and thoughtful as it was longing and possessive.

  “I better take you over there or he might pounce.” Sierra guided her across the lawn while Shelley secretly thought just how much she loved it whenever Quinn did pounce.

  “There’s my girl.” Quinn tucked Shelley beneath his arm, and her stomach did that fluttery thing again.

  My girl. She loved that.

  “Derek, this is Shelley.”

  “It’s great to meet you.” Derek’s voice was as deep as Quinn’s, but he had the look of a troublemaker about him. Shelley liked Derek instantly for that alone.

  “You’re the custom builder and stonemason, right? Quinn said you made this gorgeous patio.” He had filled her in on each of his siblings on the way over.

  Derek flashed a crooked smile. “Yup, that’s me. The stone guy.” Without missing a beat, he said, “I hear you’re interested in the gristmill.”

  Word really did travel fast, at least between the Rockwells. “It would be perfect for my café. If I’m lucky enough to get the property, I want to keep its rustic charm. I’m thinking about lowering the height of the bushes out front so customers can sit on the deck and enjoy the view of the town—and the bay, of course.” She simply couldn’t temper her enthusiasm, even if she knew she was rambling. “The brook is just so beautiful that Quinn and I thought it would be nice to put a patio out back. Derek, if I get the property, would you consider designing and building a stone patio?”

  “See?” Sierra said before Derek could respond. “Shelley is the perfect café owner for the island. She already loves it as much as I do, and she’s been here less than a week.”

  “I’d be happy to consider the stonework,” Derek said. “As long as it’s done within the next year.”

  Sierra groaned. “Derek’s planning on hightailing it out of here just as soon as his one-year contract is up with the resort. But my money’s on him staying on the island. I’ve seen how he looks at Chandler’s nurse.”

  “I’m not saying she’s not gorgeous,” he said, “but my biggest question right now is whether she’s qualified to take out my latest round of stitches so that I can skip a trip to the island’s clinic.”

  Quinn pulled Shelley against him. “Derek is the adventurer in the family. An adventurer who is always getting hurt. Although,” he added with a sly look at his brother, “I’m not buying that your stitches are the reason you couldn’t stop looking at her the other day...or that she couldn’t stop looking right back.”

  “Are you talking about Didi, your grandfather’s nurse?” Shelley asked.

  “That’s her,” Ethan confirmed as he reached down to pet Chugger. “Now that I think about it, since she’s gorgeous and has a thing for Chugger, maybe I should ask her out.”

  Derek gave him a shove. “Stitches outplay dogs.” But for all his playfulness, there was a hint of possession in both his words and in his expression.

  Abby held up a long wooden stick. “Hey, boys, how about we get out some of your aggression while dinner finishes cooking?”

  “Stickball! I’m in.” Sierra took the stick from Abby and grabbed Shelley’s hand, dragging her across the yard.

  “What’s that building?” Shelley pointed to a small cottage near the woods.

  “My mom’s studio. She blows glass.”

  “Wow. I’d love to see her stuff sometime.”

  Sierra glanced at her mother with a thoughtful look in her eyes. “She’d love that. She’s really talented. I hope she can keep blowing glass for a very long time.”

  Ethan dashed around the yard, pointing out trees and bushes. Chugger stole the rubber ball from where Abby had set it on the ground, and everyone laughed while watching Ethan chase the pup. Quinn, Shelley, Griff, and Ethan were on one team, while Trent, Derek, Sierra, and Abby were on the opposing team.

  “My mom would never play anything like this,” Shelley said to Abby. “Your kids are so lucky to have you.”

  “Oh, honey. It’s the other way around. I’m lucky to have them. Besides,” Abby added with a grin, “you can’t let these boys get one up on you. I learned that really quickly as a young mother surrounded by testosterone.” Abby walked up to the plate, and Griff, as the pitcher, took aim.

  “Looking good up there, Mama,” Quinn’s dad called out.

  “Sweet-talking will get you nowhere in this game of stickball, Griffin Rockwell.” Abby choked up on the stick. “Pitch the ball.”

  He lobbed the first pitch over the plate and Abby swung—and missed. The boys all clapped and cheered her on.

  “You can do it, Mom,” Quinn yelled.

  “Keep your eye on the ball,” Trent directed.

  “You’ve got this, Mom.” Ethan stood on first base and clapped his hands. “Hit it right here.”

  Abby leaned in to reach the next pitch and hit a grounder that slid past Griffin and was intercepted by Chugger, causing chaos and laughter to ensue as Abby jogged around the bases while Ethan chased his wildly happy puppy some more.

  Trent ran alongside Abby, cheering her on the whole way. “Great job, Mom. You’re almost there.”

  Shelley felt as though she’d been plunked down in the middle of the best family in the world. They laughed hard and played hard, but the thing that really stood out was how supportive they were of one another. Shelley had once thought there were no couples where the husband and wife loved each other more than they loved material things and appearances. But now that she’d met Quinn’s parents, Shelley knew differently. Abby and Griff clearly loved each other—and their kids—more than anything else on the planet.

  During the game, she overheard Quinn and Trent talking about the resort. Trent said he would cover for Quinn when needed, and Quinn agreed to reciprocate. At one point, Sierra twisted her ankle and Derek ran to get her a chair, but she promptly limped back into the game, unwilling to be left out.

  When it was Shelley’s turn, Quinn came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, showing her how to hold the stick. During the summers when she’d visited her aunt, Shelley had often played Wiffle ball with the other kids on the beach. But she wasn't about to give up the feel of Quinn's big, hard body wrapped around her to clue him in to her experience.

  “When you hold the stick, choke up a little higher. It’ll give you more control.” He threaded one hand into her hair and turned her face to his for a kiss.

  “Come on, lovebirds,” Ethan hollered.

  But Quinn wasn't about to be rushed as he finished what he'd started. Finally, after he drew back from her mouth, he said, “You good to go?”

  She had to work really hard to form words after that kiss. “I think so.”

  A few moments later, Trent pitched the ball, and Shelley whacked it into the side yard. Quinn’s jaw dropped open, and everyone cheered as she ran the bases with Chugger at her side. When she crossed the plate, Quinn swept her into his arms and spun her around.

  “I’m going to have to call you slugger now.” Quinn kissed her again, fast and hot enough to make the night feel far warmer than it actually was. “I never knew you could play ball.”

  “Much to my parents’ chagrin, I’ve got a pretty good arm, too. It’s not exactly feminine to be athletic in the Walters family.”

  She thought about the summer she’d come home from visiting her aunt after learning to play baseball. She’d been bubbling over with excitement, and when she told her parents, her father had said, Walters women do not play ball. No one had celebrated her athletic achievements, that was for certain.

  As Quinn set her feet back on the ground, she could see that hint of anger lighting his eyes,
the same way it had when she’d gotten off the phone with her mother.

  “It kills me that they’d make you feel bad about anything, but playing ball? All kids should learn how to play ball.”

  Shelley wasn’t about to let thoughts of her parents ruin her night—or Quinn’s. She forced the memories away and said, “Don’t worry. My children will learn to play ball, get muddy and sticky clamming in the bay, and maybe even have to contend with puppy fur. I’ll do everything I can to help them follow their dreams, find true love, and be happy, because in the end, those are the things that matter.”

  Quinn opened his mouth to say something, but they were interrupted by Abby calling them in for dinner. Quinn lagged behind, talking privately with his mother as the rest of them headed for the table.

  Shelley wondered what was being said and why Quinn looked so serious again. The two of them hadn’t talked about kids before now, and Shelley was left wondering—was he scared off by the thought? Or did he want children of his own someday, the way she did?

  Griffin settled a hand on her shoulder as she helped bring food to the table and said, “Nice arm. We need you on our team next time,” which made her feel warm and fuzzy all over again despite her questions about what had turned Quinn so suddenly pensive.

  Quinn kept one hand on Shelley’s leg throughout the meal. She loved that his parents didn’t sit at opposite ends of the table, as many parents would. They sat beside each other on one side of the table with Sierra and Ethan, while she, Quinn, Derek, and Trent sat across from them.

  “I’d like to make a toast.” Griffin rose, holding up his wineglass. “To the Rockwell family coming together tonight without a single cell phone interruption!” Griffin winked at Quinn, then turned his attention to Shelley. “And to Shelley moving to the island. May you love it here as much as we do.”

  Her heart overflowing, she dug into the delicious dinner. Ethan told her about his fishing business, which he’d started right after college, and Sierra talked about what it had been like to open a restaurant on the island. But it seemed to Shelley that Ethan’s and Sierra’s love of the island was only part of what kept them there. Their love for their family was clearly the overriding factor.