Cape Cod Kisses (Love on Rockwell Island 1)

“Thank you. Some of the clothing is from specialty designers in New York and Boston, but I love working with local designers most of all.”

“Are you Annabelle?”

“Yes. I opened the store two years ago, after finishing college.” Annabelle glanced around the store with pride in her eyes before straightening a display of scarves on the table in front of them. “I couldn’t wait to come back to the island. What about you? Do you live here, or are you just visiting?”

“I’m only here for the week, but I’m already in love with the island,” Shelley said. “And I think I’m in love with your scarves, too. They’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“This one would look fantastic on you,” Annabelle said as she handed Shelley a forest-green scarf with light green threading. “They’re my sister’s designs.”

“She’s very talented.” Shelley wound the colorful scarf around her neck and gave a sigh of delight at how wonderfully soft it was.

“That is definitely your color. It really brings out your eyes. And I have an emerald-green sundress that will go perfectly with that scarf. If you’d like to follow me, I’ll show it to you.”

As Shelley followed her to the back of the store, Annabelle said, “Since you’re here for a week, be sure to go to the fireworks display the day after tomorrow. The resort puts on a huge display three times a year. You can see it from almost anywhere on the island.”

Shelley took the green dress Annabelle handed her into the fitting room and was pleased to find that the halter top and midthigh length flattered her figure, with the scarf as the perfect accessory for the cool New England evenings.

Shelley felt so beautiful in the dress that she hated to take it off and reluctantly changed back into her shorts. “This dress is incredible. I’d like to buy the scarf, too. In fact, I think I’m going to wear these when I watch the fireworks.”

She had just walked out of the dressing room when a very attractive middle-aged blond woman came into the store. Annabelle waved to the woman as she began to ring up Shelley’s purchases. “Hi, Aunt Abby. Your new pants look great on you.”

“Griff said the same thing,” the woman said with a pretty little flush on her cheeks as she looked down at her black linen pants, which complemented her simple white scoop-neck T-shirt and ballet flats. “Thank you for suggesting them. I thought I’d come down and see if you wanted to have dinner tomorrow with me and Sierra?” After Annabelle said she’d love to, the woman pushed her side-swept bangs out of her eyes and smiled at Shelley. “That dress and scarf are just lovely.”

“Annabelle has a great eye,” Shelley agreed.

“I’m happy to take the compliment,” Annabelle said, “but you could wear tatters and you’d be gorgeous.”

“I agree,” Abby said, “especially with such great hair. My children have thick hair, thanks to my husband, but I wasn’t so lucky.”

Shelley had a love-hate relationship with her thick mass of dark hair. More love than hate since her teenage years, thankfully, but there was definitely a lot of frustration leading up to that point. She’d spent her youth trying to tame it, to make it straight and shiny, even going so far as to iron it to fit in with the other girls in her parents’ social circles. But when she was a teenager she’d given up and decided she was going to own her differences. At first it had been a way to rebel against her supremely prim parents, but it had quickly turned into something more. Shelley had come to appreciate all the ways she was different, from her taste in clothing to her spunky personality and inability to sit quietly and not give her opinion about things she didn’t agree with. By the time she was eighteen, she’d given up completely on the impossible task of pleasing her parents and had never looked back.

“I’m Abby Rockwell, by the way.”

Shelley smiled and held out her hand. “Shelley Walters.”

Abby studied her more closely. “You know what—the more we talk, the more I feel like I’ve met you before.”

Shelley would have remembered this vibrant woman if they’d ever met. “This is my first time to Rockwell Island.”

“Welcome to the island.”

“Thank you. I love it here already. Although if you happen to know where I can find a coffee shop, I’ll be in absolute heaven. I’m dying for a toffee latte.”

“We have a diner on the corner of West and Wells. Just down the street to the right one block, then two blocks to the left and you’ll find it. They won’t have specialty coffees, although they do offer flavored creamers.” Abby sighed. “I love living in a small town, but the truth is we could really use a nice specialty coffee shop.”