by Bella Andre
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 café, 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 café 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 café 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 pr
operty 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 café. 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...
As if he could read her mind, Quinn slid his hand up her calf and smiled. “Your planning going well over there?”
“I’m a little excited,” she said, for more than one reason now as he set his document down on the coffee table and pulled her onto his lap. “Can you tell?”
“You’ve been writing ideas down like crazy in that notebook in your lap.” He lowered his mouth to the curve of her neck and nipped at the sensitive skin there. “There's nothing sexier than seeing you so happy.”
And there was nothing sexier to Shelley than this moment right here, right now, with Quinn. Wrapped in his arms, filled with the heady anticipation of pleasure soon to come. “I could get used to this.”
She thought she saw a flash of worry in his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come.
“Making out with me on the couch...or us?”
“Both.”
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again. “Good answer. Now, about all these pretty clothes you've got on...”
Each of them already had a fistful of fabric in their hands, hurrying to strip her dress away, when her phone vibrated on the coffee table. From the corner of her eye, Shelley saw Mother on the screen, and her stomach clenched. She purposely didn’t put the word Mom on her mother’s contact information because the word Mom felt soft to Shelley, and her mother was anything but soft.
Quinn stopped undressing her to ask, “Do you want to get that?”
She grimaced. “Not really.”
But both of them obviously knew she wasn't going to ignore it. He gathered her hair over one shoulder and kissed her cheek as the phone vibrated again. “Maybe she’ll surprise you this time and be supportive.”
“I wish that were the case, but since it isn’t going to be, I’m not sure I want her to burst my bubble yet.”
“Don’t you think old dogs can sometimes learn new tricks? Take me, for instance, blowing off work to clam and sail and help my girl rent a cottage.”
My girl. His words were so sweet it melted her enough that she foolishly reached for the phone and reluctantly moved off of his lap.
“I’ll take it on the porch so just in case there aren’t any new dogs on the line, you won’t be tortured with the conversation.”
She answered the call on her way outside.
“Rochelle, it’s Mother. I spoke to Taryn’s mother today, who said you are entertaining some silly notion of moving to Rockwell Island?”
Damn it, Taryn. Her cousin knew better than to say anything to her mother, but must have been caught off guard. Just like that, Shelley’s happy, blissfully contented mood started to go down the tubes.
“Yes,” she said with a stubborn tilt of her chin that her mother couldn’t see. “I’m moving to Rockwell Island.”
“Rochelle.” Her mother exhaled loudly. “You’re twenty-seven years old and getting a little long in the tooth for finding a suitable man. It’s time you gave up your childish whims and focused on the important things in life.”
Shelley lowered the phone from her ear and looked out over the bay. She didn’t need to hear another diatribe about finding a suitable man or a life filled with snooty social gatherings and bragging about meaningless material luxuries. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, extremely thankful that she was here on the island and not anywhere near Greenwich. When she lifted the phone back up to her ear, she caught the tail end of her mother rambling about the Lavingtons. When her mother finally paused to inhale, Shelley cut her off.
“Thanks for your call,” she made herself say. “But I really have to go. I have a lot of planning to do.”
“Planning? You’re not taking my advice, then?”
The disappointment in her mother’s voice hurt, not only because she knew she had let her mother down, but because she couldn’t believe her mother still refused to accept her for who she was and support the things she wanted in her life.
Another call beeped through. Immensely glad for the interruption, Shelley said, “Hold on one sec. I need to answer this call.” She quickly clicked to the other call. “Hello?”
“Shelley? This is Cara. Good news. We were able to reach the bank and expedite your paperwork and credit check. The cottage on the dunes is yours as soon as you’d like to move in. We just need to agree on a date and sign the final lease.”
Shelley’s eyes filled with tears of joy. “Thank you. Your call couldn’t have come at a better time. Can I move in tomorrow?”
“That’s when they have a cleaning crew coming in. How about the following day?”
After they agreed to meet, Shelley switched back over to her mother’s call.
“Finally,” her mother said in a voice threaded with deep irritation. “I was beginning to think you had hung up on me.”
“No. I was
just confirming the details of my rental cottage.”
“Rental cottage? Rochelle, truly, all of this nonsense has got to stop. When will you learn that you’re wasting your time? You’ve been this way your whole life, belligerent and bullheaded. Frankly, it’s an embarrassment to me and your father.”
Her mother’s words should have cut right through Shelley. But she refused to let anyone or anything ruin what had been one of the best days of her life. “If you can find a way to be happy for me one day, I’d love to hear from you again. But until then, I think it’s best if we say goodbye, Mother.”
Quinn’s arms came around her from behind a moment after she hung up the phone. She turned to him, and even though she was intent on staying strong, she buried her face in his chest.
“Shell, what happened?”
She hated that her mother still affected her this way. “My parents will never understand me. It doesn’t matter what I do, or how hard I try…” She knew she sounded petulant and angry, and that upset her even more.
“You don’t deserve to be discounted by them or anyone else. You know I’m all for family, but honestly, if they can’t adore you for the incredibly talented and giving person you are, then they don’t deserve the energy you expend on them. They’re fools. Fools that I wish I could lay into right now for ever hurting you.” His voice was full of empathy, but in his embrace she felt tethered anger.
She gazed up at him, blinking away tears. “You’re angry.”
“You bet I’m angry. It breaks my heart to see anyone hurt you this way. I’ve never met anyone like you, who could look at something and immediately see beyond the masks and facades that the rest of the world sees. Whether it’s a dusty old building or…” His gaze softened and the tension around his mouth eased. “Or a workaholic like me.”
