At least he’d been distracted from thinking about Reese for a little while.
“Knock, knock.”
His younger brother Quinn walked into his office. He had become so relaxed since falling in love with Shelley and moving to the island that he actually looked like a different man. Especially today, his blue eyes shining with curiosity.
“So?” Quinn sat down on the leather couch and crossed an ankle over his knee. “I hear there was a basket from Reese in Shelley’s café this morning that wasn’t there last night when we left. Want to tell me how it got there?”
“Not really.” Talking about Reese would only make Trent think about her again.
“So we’re going with the basket-elves theory? That’s what Shelley thought you might want to do, too.”
“Quinn.” Trent ran his hand roughly over his face.
His brother’s teasing expression shifted to concern. “Was it that bad seeing Reese again?”
“No. It was that good.” Trent had been tortured all night long by how good it had been to have Reese back in his arms.
“I ran the old route to the dunes this morning,” he admitted. He hadn’t run that route since they’d split up, but after bumping into her last night, it was like his legs had carried him in that direction without any thought.
“And?”
“I still can’t get her out of my head. I know it’s over and she’s moved on. I’ve seen her very briefly on and off over the years, but last night...”
Trent paused, searching for the right words to describe how blown away he’d been by the intense feelings that had consumed him the second he’d realized it was Reese in his arms—and how awful it had been to realize just how badly she’d wanted to get away from him. She had all but run from him.
“Last night outside Shelley’s café, when I realized Reese is even more beautiful, even more talented than she was before, something hit me. Hard.”
“You mean the fact that you’re not really over her?”
Yes.
The lightning-quick answer inside his brain stunned him silent. Most of all, because he knew it was true.
“What did you think was going to happen?” Quinn asked after letting Trent stew for a few moments. “You two never really hashed everything out. Don’t you think that has to happen at some point, given that the island’s too small for you two not to keep being thrown together?”
Trent knew his brother was right. Ten years ago Trent had explained to Reese that as a burgeoning lawyer he was expected to work long hours and attend the highbrow social events that even he never really cared for. But she hadn’t wanted to hear it. She’d told him that she was last on his priority list—not even just second to his job, but seventh or eighth, after his workday, parties, office events, and whatever else might lead to his success. She’d also said she didn’t even recognize him anymore. Right before he returned to New York, his mother had said something that still rang in his ears today. When your heart is ready to commit, you’ll know. Until then, you just have to do the best you can to move on.
And moving on was what he thought he’d accomplished. Although, now that he was thinking about it, it had taken him a long time to sign the divorce papers. Even after he’d followed Reese back to the island and she’d made it clear that it was really over, he still hadn’t been able to sign the damn things. Mostly because he’d kept thinking, kept hoping, that somehow it would all work out. That they would still work out. His attorney had hounded him for weeks until Trent had finally lost hope and signed them. He still had the bottle of perfume she’d left behind and every love note she’d ever scrawled on napkins and slips of torn paper. Hell, he’d never changed his aftershave because she’d loved it so much. All of that should have clued him in to his inability to really move past Reese. Instead, he’d done what he was best at—he’d tried to work thoughts of her away. But it had never really worked, had it?
“You’re right,” Trent said slowly. “We never did hash things out. Not really. Not like we should have.”
His brother was looking at him with concern now as he said, rather apologetically, “I didn’t just come to razz you about Reese. We’ve also scheduled a meeting tomorrow morning at ten to discuss the community project.”
Sierra had come up with the idea of hosting a project at the resort that would represent the close-knit community and the warmth of the island. The last time they’d discussed it, they’d narrowed it down to a couple of front-running ideas, but they hadn’t made any firm decisions yet.
“I’ll be there.”
“Good.” Quinn looked at all the files and papers strewn around Trent’s normally meticulous office. “Although between Reese and whatever mess you’re dealing with right now, you look like you could use a break. Shelley’s going out with Sierra tonight, so I’m meeting Ethan and Derek for a drink. Want to join us?”