Cape Cod Promises: Love on Rockwell Island

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Cape Cod Promises: Love on Rockwell Island Page 3

by Melissa Foster


  But at the same time, she definitely couldn’t let herself get hurt again. It had been a real test of strength to survive the deep, dark ache of missing him for the first few years after she’d left him. So even if managing her feelings for Trent was going to be the biggest uphill battle of her life, she knew she had to find a way to do it.

  Because she’d never survive losing Trent twice.

  Jocelyn rose to her feet and squeezed Reese’s shoulder. “Just remember one thing—if you can’t drink it away, cry it away, paint it away, or eat enough ice cream to drown it, it just might be too real to be forgotten. After all, you do still have that lighthouse he gave you ten years ago hanging from your rearview mirror,” Jocelyn pointed out before she walked back inside the gallery.

  The lighthouse. He’d given it to her on their third date.

  And as she glanced at the painting she was working on and the two other canvases propped against the railing beside her, she realized she’d painted that lighthouse into every single picture.

  * * *

  TRENT FOUND HIS parents talking with his brother Derek in his father’s office.

  “Am I interrupting?”

  “Never, honey.” His mother, Abby, hugged him. “We’re just going over our options for hiring a marketing company to handle the resort.”

  “Well, that sounds like more fun than the wild-goose chase I’m on. Chandler asked me for the deed to the resort.”

  “What on earth does he need the deed for?” Derek asked as he rose from his chair.

  Although Derek had agreed to be a part of the resort takeover and to live on the island for one year, he still hadn’t fully embraced the situation. His resentment toward their grandfather was evident in his stormy dark eyes.

  “He wouldn’t tell me. And when I called the courthouse, I learned that the deed transfer giving Chandler ownership of the resort was never filed. I called his office to find out what the hell is going on, but his assistant told me he wasn’t available. Dad, do you know where the legal documents might be?”

  His father, Griffin, frowned. “As far as I know, the deed should have been kept with the rest of the legal documents. Abby, honey, you’re better with names than I am. Who was the resort’s last legal counsel?”

  Trent’s parents had always been openly affectionate, with each other as well as their children. They’d also always been integral parts of each other’s lives on every level. Just like Reese and I once were.

  “Robert Faison was the last person to run the department. You remember him,” Abby answered. “He was a heavyset, balding man. He passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack about… Could it have been eight or nine years ago now?”

  “That sounds about right,” Griffin said.

  “He worked for your great-grandfather for many years, and stayed on after Chandler took over,” Abby explained to Trent. “Griff, after he passed away, weren’t a number of his files archived to the basement with the reorganization?”

  Griffin kissed the back of Abby’s hand. “I can always count on you to remember everything.”

  He turned to Trent. “Ask Irene about it. She manages the archives. I’m sure she’ll know where those files are.”

  Thoughts of the deed went out the window as his parents’ unrelenting commitment sent his mind spiraling back to Reese and the promise they’d made on their wedding day.

  I promise to always love you. Forever.

  It was a promise that sounded so simple. However, in the wake of their painful divorce, he’d ended up believing it was actually the most difficult promise in the world to keep.

  But now that he’d held Reese in his arms again and had gotten lost staring into her beautiful brown eyes, he finally realized the truth: It was a promise that he’d always kept.

  Because he still loved her.

  And he’d love her forever.

  Chapter Four

  THE HIDEAWAY WAS one of the most happening spots on Rockwell Island. Owned by Sierra Rockwell and decorated with local artwork, it was also one of the friendliest gathering places in town. The interior boasted wide-planked hardwood floors, rough wood walls, high ceilings with iron chandeliers, a cherrywood bar, and a covered patio with gorgeous bay views.

  “I am so glad I moved to the island,” Shelley Walters said. “Every day is like an adventure, with the changing tides and the tourists coming and going.”

  This was Shelley’s first time joining them for girls’ night, and she instantly fit in. She was vivacious, funny, and easy to talk to, not to mention stunning, with a mass of dark, curly hair and a bright outlook.

  Reese had never imagined Trent’s younger brother Quinn, who had always worked at least as many hours as Trent, would change his workaholic ways. But now that she’d gotten to know Shelley a little better, she understood why he had. Shelley’s energy and positive outlook were contagious.

  “In fact, one of the things I was most hoping for here was girls’ nights out. When did you guys start doing them?” Shelley asked.

  “Jocelyn, Annabelle, and I were in the same graduating class at Rockwell High,” Reese told her, “and Sierra was a year behind us. We used to be really good about getting together every week, but life kind of got in the way, so now we do it as often as we can. Of course, when we were younger, we had study dates, not drink dates.”

  “Studying boys, maybe,” Annabelle said. “My grades definitely would have been a whole lot better if we’d actually studied our books more often back then.”

  And yet even though Reese and Sierra had been good friends in high school, because of the age gap between them and Trent, it wasn’t until the summer after Reese had graduated, when Trent had come back to the island after finishing law school, that she’d finally met him. Just thinking about the first time she’d seen him jogging toward the steps on the dune made her pulse quicken. At twenty-six he’d been broad-chested and ripped, and from the very moment his iridescent blue eyes had met hers, the sexual tension between them had been inescapable.

  At nineteen, raised by parents who were a decade older than the parents of all her friends, she’d spent more quiet evenings at home with her close-knit family than out partying. So when Trent introduced himself and his voice alone sucked the air from her lungs, it was so foreign a feeling, and so incredibly intense, that it had intrigued and embarrassed her at once. Trent’s eyes had gone dark and serious when he’d seen the picture she was painting, and they’d ended up spending two hours talking about her love of art and his love of literature.

  By the end of the night, they’d both fallen head over heels in love.

  “I can’t imagine what it must have been like to grow up here,” Shelley said, breaking Reese out of her Trent trance. “Everyone is so close, and you can always get out on the beach or a boat.”

  “And the men,” Jocelyn said as she lifted her glass. “Don’t forget the men. Let’s just say that summers on Rockwell Island have always been really easy on the eyes.”

  Reese could all but hear the other women’s questions—especially Sierra’s—even though everyone had been careful not to say a word. But she refused to let anything come between her and her friends. Not when they’d been the ones to pick her up and put her back together after her marriage had failed.

  Taking a deep breath, she made herself say, “I ran into Trent last night when I dropped off your basket, Shelley. Just literally smacked right into his bare chest.”

  At first Sierra looked surprised by the way Reese had brought up her brother to the group. Quickly, however, Sierra’s surprise turned to curiosity, her brow rising as if to say, And?

  Trent had been an elephant in the room between them for way too long. Besides, he had made his priorities clear long ago, and no matter how much she had wanted them to be different, they weren’t.

  After her divorce, she’d quickly learned that she couldn’t draw strength from the bottom of a bottle or a heavily frosted piece of chocolate cake. But she could draw strength from the bond of friendship
surrounding her. Even Shelley, whom she’d only recently met, seemed to care deeply about what Reese had to say. There was no judgment around this table, no pity, only unconditional support and love. And right now, when Reese was battling old wounds, she needed their support more than she needed oxygen.

  “I’m not going to lie to you guys,” Reese said, putting a hand on Jocelyn’s arm to let her know everything was okay. Even though it wasn’t. “It felt really good—and even more confusing—to be in his arms again and to hear him say my name in that way that always made my knees go weak.”

  “I get it every time Quinn calls me Shell,” Shelley said.

  “I wish I knew that feeling,” Sierra said with a laugh. But then her eyes sobered. “Is it hard seeing him again, Reese?”

  “Harder than I thought it would be,” Reese admitted.

  “I remember the day you met him.” Jocelyn leaned across the table. “I’d never seen you so caught up in anyone before in my life. You said he breathed new life into you, remember?”

  “I was nineteen. How much old life could I have had at that point?” Reese laughed, but the truth was that he’d sparked desires and wonder in her that were too enticing to ignore. Before meeting Trent, she’d acted like she’d understood when the girls talked about how certain guys made them so hot. But she had never truly felt anything like that until she’d met Trent.

  “At nineteen?” Shelley frowned. “I was full of rebellion against my cold, stuffy parents.”

  “By the time I hit nineteen and was finally away at college and out from under my brothers’ thumbs, I barely knew what to do with myself,” Sierra told them. “I was thrilled and lost at the same time. I had to trust myself and my decisions for the first time ever. Because, suddenly, there was no one there to keep me from making mistakes.”

  “Your brothers would always be there for you no matter how many miles separated you,” Reese assured her friend.

  It was one of the things she had most admired about Trent—the way he was always looking out for his family. Even when they were in New York and he was so busy with work, he used to call home all the time to check in with his parents and his siblings. She’d almost forgotten about that protective side of him.

  “I know they’ll always be there for me just like I’ll always be there for them,” Sierra replied, “but back then, as much as I wanted to get out from under their overprotective thumbs, it was disconcerting to be off the island.” She touched Reese’s arm. “I know you can relate to that, since you’re a total island girl, too.”

  Trent had been so wonderfully encouraging at the start of their relationship that she’d let herself get swept up in the excitement of getting her work into New York City galleries and building a life in a new city with him. But once they’d moved to New York, he was always working, and she’d found the city overwhelming and scary. She’d felt like Dorothy in Oz, afraid she didn’t fit in with the fast-paced, übertrendy New Yorkers. It had been a culture shock of the worst kind.

  “Do you know what I missed most when I was living in New York?” Reese said. Besides Trent.

  “Me, of course,” Jocelyn chimed in.

  “Exactly. I missed this. Being with friends who really knew and cared about me. Knowing that I could walk to Jocelyn’s or call Annabelle or Sierra, and in a few minutes, we could all be together. I also missed seeing my parents every Sunday morning for breakfast.”

  “I missed you guys and my family, too, when I went away to school.” Sierra sipped her drink. “But I always knew I’d come back, so for me those four years were just a blip in time.”

  A blip in time? Reese thought about all the wonderful days—and nights—she and Trent had had before things had gone bad. She mulled that over for a moment and corrected herself. Their relationship hadn’t really gone bad. They hadn’t fought or said hateful things. Lonely was a better word. Distant. Whatever the word for it, they’d had too deep of a connection to demean their relationship as a blip in time. Everything about their love had been bigger than life, which was probably why, during the good times, it had been so much more than a blip―and during the unhappier times, it had felt so much worse.

  “But you didn’t plan to come back from New York City, did you, Reese?” Sierra asked.

  She and Sierra had never really talked about her marriage—or divorce—so plainly before. And even though it hurt to revisit old wounds, Reese couldn’t help but feel that it was long past due.

  “No. I thought I’d only come back to visit. Because I knew Trent’s life needed to be in the city. At least, I thought that’s where he’d always be. But now he’s back. I can’t imagine how badly he wishes he could return to the city.”

  “Actually,” Sierra said, “I don’t think he plans to go back at all.”

  This time, Reese was the one looking at her friend in shock. “Why? I thought he loved it there.”

  “Maybe he did, but now that he’s back on the island, he’s working half as much as he did at his practice.”

  “Why do you think that is?” And, Reese had to wonder, why now instead of when she’d begged him to work less all those years ago, when they might have been able to save their marriage?

  “Actually,” Shelley said, “Quinn was just saying yesterday how much he thinks Trent has changed since coming back to the island. He thinks maybe it’s because he’s watched our relationship develop and finally started to realize everything he gave up by being a workahol—” She suddenly stopped speaking, as if she’d just realized that she might have waded too deep into things. “I’m sorry, Reese. I don’t mean to stir things up for you. Sometimes I talk too much, especially when the drinks are flowing.”

  “Don’t worry,” Reese said as she picked up her own glass, “things were already stirring before any of us got together tonight.”

  But for how long? Had they been stirring only since last night, when she’d run into Trent again? Or was the truth—a truth she didn’t want to face—that they’d been stirring for far longer than that? Say, ten years or so.

  Plus, even though a part of her wanted to believe that he was learning to relax and enjoy life in a way he’d never let himself when he was practicing law in the city, she simply couldn’t believe it was true. Because if it was true, then what could have possibly been a strong enough force to make him change his approach to life?

  Lord knew her love hadn’t been anywhere near strong enough...

  Darn it. She’d come here tonight to have fun with the girls, not fall deeper into her Do I still foolishly love Trent Rockwell? hole. But before she could change the subject, Jocelyn nodded toward the front window.

  Trent and his brothers were walking into the restaurant. When they entered, Reese’s ability to think evaporated with the night breeze that followed them inside.

  Chapter Five

  THE HIDEAWAY WAS supposed to be the perfect place for forgetting about Reese for an hour or two while hanging out with his brothers. But the moment Trent walked in and saw Reese sitting with Sierra, Shelley, Annabelle, and Jocelyn, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the woman he still loved.

  The amber-colored blouse she wore set off her wide, surprised eyes, and her hair was loose and carefree, the way Trent had always loved. The din of the restaurant fell away, and all that remained was the pulse of energy blazing a path between them.

  “Go on.” Derek gave Trent a gentle nudge.

  Reese was watching Trent with the same mix of confusion and interest as she had last night, while he was hit with such longing for the woman he’d once called his own that he wasn’t sure he could handle a single drink.

  “What are you doing here?” Shelley asked, clearly thrilled to see Quinn as she rose to kiss him.

  “Kissing my girl.”

  “Hey, guys.” Sierra smiled up at them rather than asking why they were crashing her girls’ night. “Pull up a seat.”

  Trent tore his eyes from Reese long enough to catch a glance between Sierra and Quinn that he couldn’t read. Ha
d Quinn known they were going to be here? Had he and Sierra planned this to try to push him and Reese back together?

  But by the way his brother pulled up a chair beside Shelley, draped an arm over her shoulder, and whispered something in her ear that made her flush, Trent figured it was far more likely that Quinn simply couldn’t stand to be apart from Shelley—rather than that he was setting his hand at matchmaking. The guy was so damn happy it was sickening. Great for Quinn and Shelley, but nauseating all the same.

  Ethan and Derek pulled up chairs from another table and sat beside Jocelyn and Annabelle, leaving only the space beside Reese for Trent. As he reached for an empty chair from the table behind Reese, he couldn’t help but wonder about his siblings again. They’d never done any matchmaking before. And yet...

  “Do you mind if I join you?” he asked Reese.

  Though she shook her head, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. He could see the pulse beating fast at her throat—and when their eyes met, the breath caught in his throat.

  It had been ages since he’d seen that look in her eyes, but it was one he’d never forget. It was the look she’d gotten seconds before they’d ripped each other’s clothes off in the bathroom of another restaurant ten years ago...or on the golf course late at night...or on the beach under the stars…

  That look surprised the hell out of him, though it shouldn’t, because he knew he was giving her the exact same one.

  Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she looked away.

  Apparently she hadn’t realized she was giving him that look, either. Not until he looked back at her with it mirrored on his own face.

  That turned him on and worried him at the same time. Their sparks were definitely still there. It hadn’t been his imagination the other night. But her reaction just now, turning away, fighting the connection—that made his stomach twist.

  “I’ll bet the five of you got quite a few glances tonight,” Ethan said in his easy way.

  Trent clenched his jaw against the idea of any other guy looking at Reese, even though he knew it happened all the time because she was so damned beautiful. Damn it. He’d better get a grip on his emotions, or he’d end up tangling his hand in her hair and kissing her like he’d been aching to do since he’d bumped into her at Shelley’s.

 

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