Cape Cod Promises: Love on Rockwell Island (6 page)

He placed the file he was holding in a box, wishing he hadn’t gone so many years without reaching out. But the truth was that he hadn’t been ready before now. When Reese had left him ten years ago, he’d been too caught up in making his mark and then in building his own practice. But after spending more time with his family these past weeks, and watching Quinn and Shelley fall in love, he’d finally realized that he was still empty inside.

Trent breathed deeply, trying to clear his mind and feeling as though he’d been duped—by his own damn self. He shook his head with the painful realization, and man, was it hard to accept that this all came down to him. He’d tricked himself into thinking that he was
something
, and sure, he was the best attorney in his field, but what did that really mean in the long run? He came home to an empty house and distracted himself with work from the only thing—the only person—who could ever really make his world complete.
Reese.

He couldn’t blame her for needing space. But what if that was just her way of pushing him away again? What if it was time for them to finally sit down and talk face-to-face about everything that had happened in the past—and everything that was brewing between them now—even if it was uncomfortable?

A memory suddenly flashed through his mind of the day he’d come home and found the note Reese had left when she’d gone back to the island. Because she couldn’t even look him in the eyes and tell him she was done.

Obviously clear communication was something they’d needed to work on in the past. Then again, they were just kids back then, weren’t they? Could they do better now as adults who had some life lessons and experience under their belts?

As a lawyer, Trent had honed his ability to separate truth and facts from obtrusive issues. He’d thought he’d been equally as good at interpreting his relationship with Reese.

But he’d been wrong. So wrong that he’d lost the person most important to him in the world. The only woman he’d ever loved.

Trent rose to his feet, running a frustrated hand through his hair as he mentally prepared for the biggest case of his life. His plea for Reese’s forgiveness—and a second chance with the woman he’d loved since she was nineteen years old.

* * *

AN HOUR LATER, Trent was sitting in a conference room at the resort, meeting with his family. His father never sat at the head of the table, and today was no different. Griffin and Abby sat side by side, holding hands, and his parents’ ever-present love and their respect for each other made Trent long for Reese even more.

“We should be able to finish the little we have left to get Shelley’s café ready to open over the next two weeks, then bring in a painting crew to finish up, which shouldn’t take more than a couple days at most,” Quinn said. “The opening is in less than three weeks, and assuming everyone’s work is on schedule, we should make it with a day or two to spare.”

“I’m almost done with the shelves. One more night is all I need,” Trent said.

“Derek and I will finish the attic work this week, too.” Ethan was Trent’s youngest brother, and with his dark hair tousled from his early-morning fishing trip, he looked a hell of a lot more carefree than the rest of them.

“Shelley and I have curtains we want to put up,” Sierra said, “but of course that will wait until after the painters come in.”

“And since I’m having lunch with Darla this week,” their mother added, “I’ll have her put Shelley’s grand opening on Chandler’s calendar.” Darla Collins was their grandfather’s personal secretary, and she and Abby had been friends for a long time.

“You think Chandler will come to Shelley’s grand opening?” Derek asked. “Isn’t that a little bit beneath him? Making time for a celebration?”

All of them had a complicated relationship with their grandfather. Mostly because he was a prickly, stern man who rarely smiled and always seemed to be trying to control everyone and everything.

“Derek,” Abby said, “I know Chandler isn’t the easiest man in the world to get along with, but he is your grandfather, so please show a little respect. He cares about this island, and I’m sure he’ll want to celebrate with Quinn and Shelley.”

“Cares about the island?” Derek didn’t look the least bit chastened by their mother’s uncharacteristic lecture. “He was going to sell the resort and didn’t care that the new owners would fire the local staff, who rely on the income to survive. The locals
are
the island, Mom.”

As Griffin spoke, Trent found himself comparing his warm and loving father to his cold and distant grandfather. Even after all these years, he had a hard time putting Chandler and Griffin together as father and son. Griffin was just as shrewd a businessman as Chandler, but he treated every person he met as if they were as important as the next, no matter what their social status.

Griffin was the type of man Trent had always striven to be, but the truth was that he’d acted more like Chandler during the decade he’d lived in New York. He’d been aggressive and competitive, and the cost had been the highest he’d ever pay—losing the love of his life. Only he’d been too consumed with succeeding to see it. He hadn’t even seen their separation coming. And then, over the next ten years, instead of spending time relaxing with his family over the holidays, he’d come home for a mere two or three days, then rushed back to work.

How had he gotten so far away from the man his father had raised him to be?

“Before we all head out,” Quinn said as he set a folder on the table, “we still need to discuss the community-outreach program.”

Trent gazed out the window behind Quinn, where sunlight glistened off the inky water and a sailboat made its way across the bay. In his mind he saw himself and Reese sharing a boat ride all those years ago. Back when she looked at him like he was the only man on earth she could ever love. His heart ached with the memory. Was Reese looking out at the same view and painting it? And was she thinking of him the way he was thinking of her?

He’d never believed in love at first sight—not until he’d seen her painting at the top of the dune during his morning run ten years ago.

He’d run up the dune steps faster than he ever had before, hoping that she wasn’t going to pack up her things and leave before he reached her. When he’d finally made it to the top, she’d looked like an angel dropped from a cloud just for him. And when she’d turned to look at him, her eyes had gone wide and her paintbrush had dropped to the sand.

He’d closed the distance between them, introduced himself, quickly learning that she was not only smart and funny, but also a passionate and talented painter. When he’d picked her up for their first date that night, they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. They’d made love right there in the foyer of her apartment. It had been breathless. Reckless. Sexy as hell.

And perfect.
It had been
perfect.

Had he known he was going to be her first lover, he would have taken his time and made sure everything was romantic for her. Hell, he hadn’t planned to make love to her that first night, on their first date. But they’d never been able to keep their hands off each other—not for a minute, much less enough time for him to plan something like that. Two nights later they’d sailed out to the middle of the bay, anchored the boat, dove in, and made love in the water. He could still hear Reese’s sweet giggles as he’d kicked his powerful legs to try to keep them afloat while their bodies moved together with youthful exuberance.

“Honey.” His mother touched his arm. “What do you think about Quinn’s question?”

Trent looked around the conference table at his family and realized that they were
all
waiting for his response. “Sorry. I’m a little distracted today.” Trent forced himself to focus on the discussion again. “What were you wanting to know?”

“Quinn was saying that Reese is going to be painting the mural,” Sierra told him as Quinn slid the folder with the information about the community-outreach program toward Trent. “She is such an amazing painter that we know she’ll create something beautiful to represent our close-knit community and the magical feel of the island. We want to know if you’ll manage the project.”

Trent opened the folder and his heart flipped in his chest as he scanned the project details.

Rockwell Resort Community-Outreach Project

Title: Island Mural

Location: South wall of the resort

Artist: Reese Nicholson

Trent set the folder down. Even when Reese was nowhere near him, she was
everywhere
.

“Yes, I’d be happy”—
thrilled—
“to manage the project.”

Sierra and Abby exchanged smiles, while Quinn laughed. The knowing look in his brother’s eyes told Trent that he’d been hoping for this decision. He obviously wanted Trent to be just as happily in love as he was.

“Are you sure about this?” Derek clearly felt compelled to point out that, “You two have history, and after the way she hightailed it out of the Hideaway last night, things didn’t look so amicable.”

“I’m sure.” Trent left no room for negotiation. Not when it came to Reese. Not when this might be his chance to finally get her to stick around at least long enough for him to apologize to her for everything he’d blown in their relationship. There was no way he was going to give up a chance to be with Reese.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea, honey,” his mother said, patting him on the shoulder. “Who better to work closely with Reese than you?”

My thoughts exactly
.

REESE’S GALLERY WAS decorated in a bright and airy theme, with white walls and pale yellow trim, accented with shades of green. Throughout the interior she had painted dandelions in various stages of growth. Parachutes of fluff floated up the walls, while newly sprouted green buds anchored the lower trim and dandelions in full bloom peeked out from corners and from behind paintings. Now she measured and planned from her perch at the top of a stepladder, preparing to hang a painting between a dandelion in full bloom and dandelion fluff.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not going to be able to avoid him forever,” Jocelyn said as she handed Reese a hammer.

Reese took the hammer and leaned one hand against the wall for balance as she thought about Trent—and how avoiding him was the last thing she wanted to do. Her mind traveled back to the summer they’d met. They’d walked down this very street hand in hand, talking about the future they’d been sure they’d have.
One day your name will be in all the galleries in New York, and we’ll think back on how fun the journey was. We’ll laugh at how hard you thought it was when we were going through it. I’ve got faith in you, Reese. Your talent is bigger than the island.

She smiled to herself, remembering how important Trent had made her feel. How his faith in her artistic abilities had surpassed any praise she’d ever received. He’d been so sure of everything back then. And it had been that faith that she’d carried back to the island with her when she’d left New York, that faith that had given her the confidence to open her own gallery.

“I’m not sure I actually do want to avoid him,” she said as she sat down on the top of the ladder with the hammer in her lap and rested her chin on her palm. “Which might be an even bigger problem than both of us living on the island again.” She and Jocelyn had been discussing Trent on and off all morning, and while she’d thought that she’d have her feelings figured out by now, she wasn’t even close.

“Are we taking a break?” Jocelyn asked.

“We’re taking a…moment.”

“To do?”

Reese peered down at her friend. Jocelyn wore a long cotton skirt and a pale green tank top with a cute pair of sandals. Her hair was secured at the nape of her neck with a wide clip.

“To admire your sexy librarian look,” she teased.

“That was exactly the look I was going for,” Jocelyn said with a grin. “Now, back to Trent and all that not-avoiding you’re thinking about doing.”

Reese picked up the hammer again. “Hold the ladder. I need to get this painting hung so that the whole day doesn’t end up being a write-off.” She appreciated that her friend simply gripped the sides of the ladder and waited for her to collect her thoughts. Thoughts that were zinging back and forth in her head like a ball in a pinball machine. “I thought I was over him,” she said as she began hammering the nail into the wall. “But every time I’m near him, I get all mushy inside, and all those feelings I thought I had dealt with come rushing back.”

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing?”

Reese clutched at the wall, nearly tumbling off the ladder at the sound of Trent’s deep voice asking her if getting mushy over him ten years after their divorce was a bad thing. The next thing she knew, he was standing behind her and settling his big hands on the sides of her thighs—simultaneously stabilizing her and sending her even
more
off-balance.

“Careful,” he said in a soothing and far-too-sexy tone that made Reese’s stomach flutter as she tried not to focus on the heat of his hands. Or the strength of them.

Or, most of all, just how good she knew they would feel moving over every inch of her, head to toe, while she begged him for
more, more, more!

She turned to glare at Jocelyn, knowing her best friend would clearly understand her message—
Why didn’t you warn me he was walking into the gallery?

From behind Trent, Jocelyn mouthed,
Sorry. I didn’t see him!

“What are you doing here, Trent?” Reese didn’t mean to snap, but she was really embarrassed that he’d heard her talking about him in such intimate detail. It didn’t help that he was standing way too close as he helped her down the ladder, looking way too hot and smelling way too delicious.

This was not good. Not good at all.

Or maybe the problem was that he was
too
good.

Oh God
.

“I wanted to come by to give you the good news in person,” he said with an easy smile. “The two of us are going to be working together on the community-outreach project.”

“The mural?” Reese smoothed her jeans to give her hands something to do besides reaching out to touch him. “What do you mean we’ll be working together?”