Cape Cod Kisses Page 11

  He smiled and reached for his shirt from the deck. “Yes. The instructor was sick.”

  Shelley was losing the battle against admiring the sexy sight of the muscles in his back flexing as he pulled his T-shirt over his head, when someone said, “Excuse me?”

  They both turned at the sound of the woman’s voice. A gray-haired couple waved from the dock.

  Quinn touched Shelley’s arm, a touch that sizzled through her from head to toe. “I think this is the rest of our class.” He took a step away, then glanced over his shoulder and said again, “I truly am sorry, Shelley.”

  Her heart in her throat—sweet and hot was clearly a very dangerous combination, dangerous enough to make her want to throw caution to the wind—she managed a nod.

  Quinn helped the older couple up the ramp and onto the boat. Neither of them could have been taller than five feet. Dressed in white slacks and white shirts, with navy blue sneakers and floppy blue hats, they looked like they were ready for a Florida cruise.

  “Well, hello, sweetie,” the woman said to Quinn. “I’m Georgette Gainer, and this is my husband George.”

  “Georgette and George?” he said with a friendly smile. “You two were obviously meant to be.”

  Shelley also smiled at the couple and held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Shelley Walters.”

  “You too, honey. What we usually tell people is just to say, Hey, GiGi, and we’ll both turn around.”

  She eyed Quinn and Shelley as Quinn put his hand on Shelley’s lower back for a moment to guide her around a coil of rope lying on the deck, then looped her arms into George’s.

  “George, aren’t they a handsome couple? They go together like tea and crumpets.”

  “Oh, no,” Shelley said quickly, even as she tried to fight back the desire vibrating through her at nothing more than Quinn's hand on the small of her back. “We’re not a couple. Quinn is the instructor. I’m just here for the class, like you are.”

  “Oh?” Georgette shared a surprised glance with her husband. “When we saw you two, we thought you were together. I’m sorry. Me and my big mouth.”

  After helping the older couple put on their life vests, Quinn stepped in front of Shelley to help adjust hers, the apology still evident in his eyes.

  When she’d protested that they weren’t a couple, his hand had dropped from her back. And she’d instantly missed it. Just as she missed the smile he’d replaced with a frown.

  What other man did she know who would have apologized a dozen times inside of five minutes? Shelley knew the dangers of becoming involved—even for a fling—with a successful, wealthy businessman. At the same time, however, a part of her admired that he was so driven and interested in his work. When she was doing something she loved, she felt the exact same way.

  Plus, for a little while at least, she’d been sure there was more to him than met the eye. Because despite how much pressure she knew he was under, he’d still set his work aside for a while, first for his family and then to take her clamming out on the beach. For a few wonderful hours, she’d had more fun with him than she’d ever had with anyone else.

  And when she added in the way his kisses had rocked her down to her very soul and his caresses made her feel utterly wild and wanton? Moment by moment, his sweet behavior on the boat chipped away at her resolve to remain careful.

  “One more chance.” She said the words softly enough that only Quinn could hear them.

  His eyes lit with relief and a renewed desire that not only warmed her from the inside out...but also made her hope she was making the right decision by letting Quinn Rockwell back into her life.

  KNOWING HE’D MADE Shelley sad was a terrible feeling. But seeing the light in her eyes dim when he’d been apologizing and she’d been struggling with how to respond? Hell, that had just about killed him.

  Thank God by the time he’d helped her with her life vest, she’d decided to give him one more chance.

  A chance that he was bound and determined not to screw up.

  He powered up the boat and piloted it into the bay. Georgette and George sat side by side holding hands, and Shelley stood at the bow with the wind blowing her hair away from her face.

  The more Quinn thought about her initial reaction to his apology, the more he respected her. Shelley’s strength did not lessen her femininity—on the contrary, it added a depth that both intrigued him and put him in his place. Her reaction was something he could see his mother or Sierra having, and that endeared her to him even more.

  A short while later, Shelley came to sit with the others. “This is glorious. It feels so free being on the water. If I lived here I’d go boating every week.”

  There was a time when Quinn had gone boating that often, but that was before becoming focused on his career.

  “It’s not always this smooth,” he said. “The bay can be fickle. Calm one minute and stirring up a squall the next.”

  “But that’s the adventure in nature, isn’t it? That’s what makes it feel like you’re just on the edge of being in control. That’s what makes it so beautiful.”

  And it was that outlook that made Shelley so beautiful. In addition to being the sexiest woman he'd ever set eyes on, her beauty radiated from within because she looked at her whole life as an adventure. And in doing so, she’d reawakened his adventurous side, sparking memories that made him want to join her in rediscovering the things he’d missed out on over the past ten years. Being with Shelley made him realize that when he’d become consumed with growing his business, he’d left behind the joy in the very things that had driven him toward his success. Great things like the adrenaline rush from being out on the water and the anticipation of finally snagging a clam with his fingertips.

  He wished they were alone on the boat so that he could tell her what he was feeling. But not only were they not alone, he also had a lesson to teach.

  “The first and most important thing you must know about sailing is the direction the wind is blowing.”

  Georgette shot to her feet. “I know how to do that.” She licked her finger and held it up, then turned her body until the wind was blowing in her face. Her lips curved into a smile. “Here it is!”

  “That’s exactly right, Georgette,” Quinn said. “And if you’re ever not sure, there are other clues everywhere, from the direction the clouds are moving, to the ripples in the water, and other sailboats. Even dust or flags can give you guidance.”

  “That’s my girl.” George rose beside her and kissed her cheek. “Always on her toes.”

  Shelley’s eyes were soft and warm as she watched the couple be so affectionate with each other. “How long have you been married?”

  “Sometimes it feels like forever,” Georgette said with a laugh, “but George worked eighty-hour weeks until two years ago, so we actually didn’t get much time together until recently.”

  Quinn didn’t miss the faltering of Georgette’s smile as she talked about being second to George’s job. He couldn’t help but think about his grandmother and how she hadn’t even been second in line for his grandfather’s affection, but third.

  “I imagine it’s hard to strike a balance,” Quinn said to George, the one thought that was hanging heavily on his shoulders after the crappy way he’d behaved last night with Shelley, “but Georgette must have been incredibly understanding if you were as married to your business as you were to her.”

  Shelley turned her warm—and approving—eyes to him, and he was glad he’d finally gotten something right. At the same time, he also couldn’t help but wonder if Chandler regretted how he’d lived his life, never finding the balance between work and love and fun. And if so, did that feed into his bitterness?

  Realizing he’d gotten lost in his thoughts again, Quinn made himself refocus on what he was supposed to be doing—teaching a sailing lesson.

  “We need to release the boom vang to allow the boom to rise up when the sail is hoisted.” Quinn slowed the engine and explained how to hoist the
mainsail, carrying out each action as he talked them through the process. “Now we’re going to loosen the main sheet, which is the control line that pulls the mainsail in or out, so that wind against the rising sail doesn’t cause resistance.” He motioned for Shelley and the others to come closer, then pointed to a line sewn into the foot of the mainsail. “See how this piece moves up and down on the groove of the mast? That ensures that you’re ready to hoist the mainsail.”

  He had to let one of them hoist the mast, and he was a little worried about the older couple doing it. Shelley would not only enjoy the thrill of it, but she was also strong enough to handle the weight. Heck, she was clearly strong enough to handle anything that came her way.

  “Shelley, would you like to hoist the mainsail?”

  Her eyes lit with excitement “Would I ever.” But then she hesitated for a moment and addressed the others. “Unless you’d like to do the honors?”

  “Oh, goodness no,” Georgette said. “The two of us together couldn’t pull that halyard down.”

  Quinn was surprised that Georgette knew the nautical term for the rope that raised the sail. As he helped Shelley get into position, he asked the couple, “Have you taken sailing lessons before?”

  “We’ve taken many, but with George’s back, he can no longer hoist, and I’m just happy to have the time with him.”

  “What about you, Shelley? Have you done this before?” Quinn asked.

  “I’ve seen it done plenty of times, but I’ve never actually done it myself.”

  “So you’ve been on a lot of other sailboats before?”

  She nodded. “With my parents. But they always hired a crew to handle things like hoisting the sails and piloting the boat, even though I always thought getting to chart the course and control the speed seemed like the best part of sailing.” When she realized they were all staring at her, her cheeks flushed as though she felt she’d said too much. “Anyway, I’m just happy to finally get a chance to do it now.”

  Quinn stared at her for a long moment, his brain rushing to put the pieces of her life together. From what she’d just said, she’d obviously grown up in a wealthy family. Which went a long way to explaining her aversion to learning that he was a Rockwell. He’d met plenty of people like the family she’d described, and it made him want to work even harder to prove to her that he was nothing like them.

  Or am I?

  Because wasn’t he always working so hard that he missed out on things like sailing and hanging out with his family...and having a bonfire with Shelley?

  His parents had always made time for each other and for their children. His father sailed frequently and his mother blew glass, and they still went out on dates every week and kissed each other like newlyweds even though they'd been married forever. Whereas, on the opposite end of the spectrum, his grandfather had never made time for his grandmother.

  And one thing Quinn knew with absolute certainty was that he did not want to become Chandler.

  The mast hitting his arm brought him back to the present. He reached around Shelley and placed her hands on the rope. “You want to hold it like this.”

  Shelley hoisted the sail like a pro, then grinned at Quinn. “That was such a rush!”

  “You did it perfectly. See how the mainsail is fluttering? That’s called luffing.”

  He wrapped the mainsheet around the winch and cranked it until the mainsail stopped luffing. Then he led them to the cockpit and took the helm. Once settled, he placed Shelley’s hand on the helm and asked her to hold her steady while he deployed the jib. She handled the helm like she’d done it a million times—with a sexy confidence that was Shelley through and through—and he knew she must have spent a lot of time watching the crew work while she was on the boats, not just sunbathing on the deck.

  “You did a fine job, Shelley,” George said. “Maybe one day you’ll be able to convince your parents to do more things so they don’t miss out like we did.” He pulled Georgette into an embrace. “And, Quinn, you’re right. I’m a darn lucky man, and my Georgette is probably the only woman who would put up with someone like me.”

  “Oh, George. That’s not true. Remember the way Patricia used to chase you?”

  While Georgette and George debated his admirer, Quinn focused on Shelley. He wanted to know more about her, and to apologize about a million more times until she knew exactly how bad he felt. But since this wasn’t the time or the place to discuss their relationship, in front of two strangers, for now he simply reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and ask, “Where are you from?”

  Her lips parted, and he heard her breath hitch as if his touch affected her more than she knew how to handle. Lord knew, he felt exactly the same way—he could barely keep his hands off her.

  Finally, she replied, “Greenwich is where I grew up, but I spent a lot of my youth traveling with my family to Africa, Europe, Asia.”

  From most people, that might have sounded like they were bragging. But Shelley sounded more wistful than anything, and given how much she loved the small-town feel of the island, he thought he knew why. “It must have been hard not having a home base as a kid.”

  She looked at him in surprise, as if she hadn’t expected him to have such insight into her emotions. Probably because he’d been such a jerk the night before. “It was. And I’m not complaining, but honestly, as a kid I wanted a more normal life.”

  “I’ve never been to Africa, but it’s on my bucket list,” Georgette said.

  Quinn hadn’t realized Georgette and George had tuned back into his conversation with Shelley.

  “We’ll get there, honey,” George assured her.

  “What’s on your bucket list, Shelley?” Georgette asked.

  She looked relieved to have the subject diverted from her childhood. “My bucket list? Not traveling to faraway places visiting diamond mines, that’s for sure.”

  Diamond mines?

  Wait a minute. Is Shelley one of those Walters?

  Walters Enterprises was the most notable of the diamond empires, and if she was related to them, then all of Shelley’s aversions to money and overworking all suddenly made perfect sense. Clarence Walters was a starch conservative. He was in all of the high-society pages, but Quinn didn’t recall ever reading about his daughter.

  Quinn remembered what she’d said about working through college and using the money she'd saved to buy her house. Just as he’d left the island to avoid the family business and strike out in search of bigger, better things, she’d struck out on her own.

  Their similarities ran much deeper than he could have ever imagined.

  “I think it would be fun to learn to skip rocks,” she said. “To paint something that doesn’t look like it was made by a five-year-old. To sing with a choir even though I can barely hold a tune. And I would love to spend the night in a tree house. A real tree house, not one of those mini-mansions people sometimes build in their backyards. It’s been my dream ever since I was a little girl.”

  As Quinn listened, he realized that Shelley took nothing for granted, not even the simplest things. He felt as if he were getting a glimpse inside her heart.

  When she caught him looking at her, renewed guilt from last night settled on his shoulders. How many times had she been cast aside by her parents as they worked?

  Never again, Shelley, he silently promised her. Never again.

  He’d been right last night when he’d thought Shelley deserved a better man than him—but he’d been wrong to consider, for even five seconds, walking away. He would become that better man, damn it.

  For both of them.

  During the rest of the sail, George and Georgette happily told them stories of their youth and shared the joy they took in their grandchildren. Shelley didn’t offer any more insight into her family, but Quinn already felt like he knew her a thousand times better than he had before they’d set sail.

  Back at the dock, Georgette asked Quinn to take their picture, which he was more than happy to do. Th
en Quinn took out his phone and asked her to take one of him and Shelley.

  “Why don’t you put your arm around Shelley and pull her in real close so I can fit you both in the picture,” Georgette suggested.

  Quinn was sure Shelley knew what Georgette was up to, but she smiled up at him as she wrapped one arm around his waist and settled the other on his stomach. Desire ripped through him at the same instant that he felt her breath go, her eyes widening as she looked into his. So beautiful, Shelley. You're so damn beautiful and sweet. Her skin flushed as if she could read his mind.

  Georgette took several pictures of them before she and George went on their way, leaving Quinn and Shelley alone.

  He reached for Shelley’s hand as he helped her off the boat, and didn't let go of it as he said, “I’m really glad you came out for a sail with me today.”

  “I am, too.” She looked down at their linked hands, then back up into his eyes. “It was fun, Quinn. Really fun.”

  “I was thinking of taking one of my boats out tonight. Would you like to come with me? I promise I won’t take any work calls.”

  “It’s a leftover hurt from my childhood. I thought I was over it, but now I know I’m not, because it still really stings.”

  With his free hand, he brushed her hair from her shoulder and cupped the back of her neck. “You shouldn’t need to be over it. I screwed up in a major way, and you’re right to be upset with me. But I’m going to try my damnedest to never do anything that stings again. At least,” he added as he drew her closer, “not in a bad way.”

  He wanted so badly to kiss her, but he didn’t know if he’d earned back that right yet. “Can I kiss you again, Shelley?”

  She looked surprised by his question for a moment, but that expression quickly shifted into a smile that told him she was glad he’d asked if he could kiss her instead of simply assuming that she was ready to resume things from where they’d left off last night before he’d blown it.

  Instead of answering him with words, she went onto her toes and pressed her lips to his in a sensual kiss that sent need rushing through him. A kiss that he wished could have gone on forever.