Cape Cod Promises: Love on Rockwell Island (22 page)

Trent read the note.
Dear Trent, look at me.

Confused, he lifted his eyes to Reese, who was grinning. “We said no more ‘Dear Trent’ notes. Only face-to-face communication.” She leaned closer and kissed him, before saying, “Dear Trent, I never stopped thinking about you. You were with me at every flea market, every craft show, and every walk on the beach over the past”—she lowered her voice to a whisper—“ten years. I’ve missed us. Love, Reese.”

Trent folded her in his arms, soaking in the love behind every word of the most beautiful note in the world. And as the words settled into place inside his mind—and his heart—he realized this new face-to-face note was finally replacing the memories of the one she’d given him the day she’d left New York ten years ago.

He tipped her chin up with his fingers and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Thank you, Reese. I love you, too.” He couldn’t have asked for anything more.

“Don’t you want to open your gift?” She handed him the gift, which he seemed to have forgotten about.

“I can’t imagine what could mean more to me than the note you’ve just given me.”

She was like a kid on Christmas day; her eyes lit up with anticipation. “Open it and see!”

He untied the ribbon, and the wrapping fell away, revealing a stack of books. He stared down at the hardcover copy of
Treasure Island
by Robert Louis Stevenson, and his throat thickened.

“It’s a
real
first edition,” she told him as she opened the book to the title page and pointed to the publication date. “See? 1883. And the copyright page was left blank. I even looked for the errors on pages two and seven you told me about.” She flipped through the pages again. “‘Dead Man’s Chest’ isn’t capitalized.”

“I can’t believe you found this, sweetheart. I’ve looked everywhere for it but could never find it.” Everywhere but a Rockwell Island flea market. “This must have cost thousands of dollars. You shouldn’t have done this.”

“Don’t worry. I bartered for it with my art the summer after we separated.”

The summer
after
they’d separated? A sharp pang speared his chest. How could he have been such a fool to wait so long to return to the island—and to Reese?

“I can’t believe you bartered your work for me, after everything we went through.” He pulled her in close again and buried his face in her hair. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You loved me.”

And then, with that beautiful answer making his heart feel as if it might have grown too big for his chest, she bounced on the mattress, buzzing with excitement as she pressed her hand to the next book on the pile. “There are more!”

She handed him a first edition of the
The
Call of the Wild
and a copy of
Where the Wild Things Are
. “I remember when you took me to the tree house that you and your brothers and sister built, and you said that you hoped one day to bring your kids there and read them these stories. You said you loved the outdoors and that the island was the perfect place for kids to live out their dreams of living in the wilderness and becoming king or queen of it all.”

He smiled with the memory. “My brothers and I used to spend nights in that tree house.” Their mother had found the giant tree that grew almost parallel to the ground, with branches reaching out like a giant hand, and she and their father had given them all the tools, and the guidance, they’d needed in order to build what would become the Rockwell children’s Inspiration Point.

“You said that you and Derek used to take off at night to be ‘one with nature’ and that Quinn and Ethan thought you guys were nuts for venturing out in the middle of the night.”

“That was so long ago. I’m surprised you remembered, and so glad that you did.”

“How could I forget? You were so passionate about it.”

“I was. It’s strange. In my twenties, I thought the only way to have a great life was to move off the island. I was so sure of it, when really, all I ever needed was right here.” He set the books on the mattress and pulled her in close again. “Those were such fun times. I’m really glad I’m back. Finding a cool tree in the woods in the middle of a concrete jungle would have been impossible, and I
do
want my kids to love the wilderness and everything nature has to offer.”

He looked at her for a long moment, desperately wanting to say,
our kids
, but afraid that might be too much too fast and would scare her off just when she was beginning to really let him in. As he pulled her close again, he thought about how Reese wasn’t the naive girl she’d been all those years ago. She’d grown up, matured, figured out what she wanted and what she needed in her life, and all of those changes resonated in her confidence and her success. But her love was still just as intense, and as real, as it always had been.

Just as intense, and as real, as his love was for her.

EVERY MORNING TRENT awoke with Reese in his arms felt even better than the one before. And every night when they made love, then talked late into the night, sharing their hopes and dreams, was pure magic.

And yet before they made any official plans to move in together, Reese kept saying she needed more time.
Just to be sure
.

He was disappointed. Actually, it was far more than just disappointment. The thought of living without her again was brutal—something he didn’t want to even contemplate. He’d missed her so much over the years that he couldn’t get enough of her now. But he knew that just because he was ready to change everything in his life for her didn’t mean he should expect her to feel exactly the same way. Especially so soon. Come Monday morning, Trent was lamenting being apart from her all day after the incredible weekend they’d just spent together exploring the other side of the island, when a story in the newspaper caught his eye.

“Maribelle Penner has a show today in Boston. Isn’t she one of your favorite artists?”

Her eyes bloomed wide. “Yes. I can’t believe you remembered. What time is her show?”

Trent scanned the article. “Nine to six.” He did a quick mental run-through of his to-do list for the resort and his legal practice and decided none of it was critical. Definitely not as important as Reese. “We should go. We can take the ferry and catch a cab to the exhibit.”

“I was hoping to finish the lighthouse on the mural today. And what about your work?”

“The lighthouse? My work? Is this the same woman who wanted more time together?”

“You’re right,” she said slowly. “This is one of the things we were missing. But are you sure? I doubt your grandfather will appreciate you taking off on a Monday to go look at art with me.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist. “First of all, spending time with you is far more important than anything else I have to take care of. And second, it turns out that Chandler is glad that we’re back together.”

“He is? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I went to see your parents right after I spoke with my grandfather. I know it’s no excuse, but after the conversation I had with them, Chandler completely slipped my mind.”

“Wiggle room,” she said softly. “It’s obviously not a huge deal that you didn’t tell me right away. I just don’t want us to fall back into our old habits of keeping things from each other. Especially such shocking things like Chandler actually saying he’s happy we’re back together. Now,” she said, smiling to let him know he was already forgiven, “tell me his exact words.”

“It’s ‘about damn time’ that you and I are together again,” he said in a funny approximation of his grandfather’s gruff voice. “I think he’s going soft in his old age.”

“Wow.” Her eyes were full of emotion as she said, “I always knew there was more to him than it seemed.”

“You always did have a soft spot for him for some inexplicable reason,” he said with a wry grin, “but I never thought I’d see it myself.”

“Well, even if he is going soft”—she rocked her hips against his and smiled that naughty little smile he’d always adored—“you’re definitely not. You know what?”

He could hardly think straight enough to reply. “What?”

“Now that I’ve thought more about it, I should blow off painting and you should blow off work so we can head to Boston. But first...” She reached for the buttons on his shirt. “We should deal with this lust thing we always run into when we’re out and about
.
”

* * *

THE FERRY RIDE was romantic and chilly, giving Reese the perfect excuse to snuggle closer to Trent. It had been tempting to stay in bed all day with him, but she knew this trip to Boston was an important one for both of them. Trent needed to show her that he could be spontaneous, and she needed to show him that big cities didn’t scare her anymore.

They could have gone inside, but Reese loved the feel of the brisk air against her face, and she didn’t want to miss a second of the scenery. As the island fell away in the distance, the Boston skyline came into view, reminding her of when they’d moved to New York. Back then, she’d experienced a conflicting rush of emotions from the fear of leaving everything she knew and loved behind while also being excited to see what the future held. This time, however, as Trent tightened his grip around her shoulder and kissed her temple, there was only excitement. Because it was starting to feel as if her life was just beginning.

Reese had traveled off the island plenty of times to go to the Cape, or to visit friends or her sister in Oregon, but she only went to the bigger cities like New York or Boston when she absolutely had to meet with gallery owners, for quick one- or two-day trips. Fortunately, any feelings that might have tried to filter in about being an island bumpkin who didn’t fit in with the “cool kids” quickly dissipated as she looked around the city and realized it was a beautiful, perfect blue-sky day. Children were holding their parents’ hands. Lovers were kissing on street corners. And the hustle and bustle suddenly seemed less chaotic and more full of fun and possibility. Even the air around them felt different from the air on the island, as if the energy of the crowd bound together and electrified it. After paying the cab fare, Trent draped a protective arm over Reese and his eyes darted along the busy sidewalk. She suddenly realized that
he
didn’t seem entirely comfortable on the crowded streets.

How had she never noticed this before? She’d always assumed he was like a chameleon, able to fit seamlessly into any environment. But now that she thought about it, he sure seemed more like his old self and much happier on the island than he’d been when they’d lived in New York.

“You okay?” Trent asked.

“Yes. I’m great.” She smiled at him. “Are you?”

He smiled back. “I’m with you, so how could today be any better?”

But she had a feeling he wasn’t telling her everything. Not because he wanted to hurt her by holding things back, but simply because they didn’t have much practice yet with being really good communicators. Which was why instead of letting it go, she asked, “Do you miss the hustle and bustle of the city?”

Trent shook his head. “Not even a little.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

He frowned, as if he’d just realized he should have been more forthright when she’d asked if he was okay. “Let’s go find a quieter spot so that I can explain.” He led her several steps away from the gallery and the throngs of people trying to get inside.

“I came back to the island because my grandfather mandated the takeover, but the decision to change my life and accept his offer wasn’t one I made lightly. Because of my practice, the idea of moving was complicated. Although, honestly, I had been thinking about it for years, and once I came back and entertained the idea on a more serious level, the
right
decision became crystal clear. I wanted to be back on the island because I love it there. I’m still the guy I was when you met me, the guy who loved to take walks and throw rocks into the bay, run on the beach, and read on the deck. I also realized I wanted to be part of running the resort, which I know is far from what I felt when I was building my practice. I’m a Rockwell, and I’m proud of that. I want to be part of my family’s legacy.”

He tucked her hair behind her ear, so focused on her that she could tell he was oblivious to the people walking by and the line forming outside the gallery. As he gazed into her eyes, the din of the streets fell away for her, too.

“And then there was you, Reese.”

“But you just said you came back for all those reasons you just listed. Not for me.”

“Those were the reasons I was willing to admit to myself. But the most important reason of all was
you
. Only it wasn’t until I watched Quinn and Shelley fall in love—and when I spent enough time on the island again to see my parents together and remember what true love really looks like—that I fully realized what I’d so stupidly thrown away.”

“Just like how until we bumped into each other last week,” she told him, “I didn’t want to admit to myself that I was still in love with you.”

“I’m done with lying to myself, Reese. I want you. I want to live with you and I want to raise our family on the island, not in the city.”

“But your practice is in New York. Won’t you eventually have to go back?”

“That’s another thing I wanted to discuss with you.” He glanced around them, looking as if he actually had forgotten they were standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk in downtown Boston. “Do you want to find someplace more private? Or would you rather wait to talk about this more until after we see the exhibit?”

“We’ve already waited long enough, Trent.” They could be onstage at this point, and it would still come down to just the two of them. “And I need you to know I’m not that scared nineteen-year-old girl anymore. I visit New York and Boston a few times each year for my artwork. If you need to go back, I can handle it now.”

“Sweetheart, I
know
you can handle anything. You’re an amazing, capable woman. You’ve built your own business; you have your work in major galleries. Of course I know you can handle the city, but you won’t need to. Because I’m planning to sell my practice.”