They went upstairs to the master suite, which spanned the width of the house. It had an expansive view of the bay through French doors leading out to a deck. Shelley stood in front of the window, itching to sign the papers. Quinn wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.
“Can you see yourself living here?”
She turned to him and gazed into his blue eyes. “Yes. Definitely.”
“And you don’t have any reservations?”
“Not one.” Not about you and not about this adorable cottage.
He searched her eyes, his own expression growing more intense as he said, “I can see it, too. All of it, Shell.”
She didn’t know if he meant just for her or for both of them, but the way he tightened his arms around her waist made her think the latter. She tried not to let her imagination run wild, but when he cupped her cheeks and pressed his lips to hers, it was hard not to.
“You’re right,” he said as he stroked his hand across her cheek and sent delicious shivers running through her. “It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
“It’s a lovely view, isn’t it?”
Shelley whipped around at the sound of the Realtor’s voice. Cara Roeden was in her early thirties, with auburn hair, misty green eyes, and apparently the ninja-like ability to sneak up on people.
“Yes, it’s really beautiful. I think I’d like to rent it. If I’m approved, how quickly can I move in?”
“Are you in a hurry?”
“I was supposed to leave Friday, but I was thinking that if it won’t take too long to work out the rental details, I’ll delay my departure and just move right on in.”
“I’m certain that the owner would be pleased with the prospect of a quick rental. It shouldn’t take long to process the paperwork.”
They spent the next few hours dealing with the rental agreement and the required documentation. Collecting her historical business financials took only a few clicks, thankfully. Who knew that changing her life could be so easy?
And she was surprised, in the best possible way, that Quinn stayed by her side the whole time instead of going back to his suite to tackle more of his work. He also offered to vouch for her on the rental agreement, which would have expedited the process even more, but Shelley was too independent to take him up on that. She knew her business would stand up to the renter’s background inspection.
By the time they left Cara’s office they had an appointment with a commercial real estate agent to find a location for her café, and Shelley was on pins and needles with excitement.
All of her dreams were coming true on Rockwell Island. The beautiful town. A family to care for her.
And, most important of all, love.
Chapter Twenty
“THANKS FOR SHOWING us around, Tim,” Shelley said to the commercial real estate agent a short while later, “but none of these spaces are speaking to me.”
“Those are the only three prime business locations currently available to rent that have the kind of foot traffic you need.” Tim Clarey, the commercial agent Cara had connected them with, was short, stout, and patient. “I’ll let you know right away if anything new pops up,” Tim promised her as they walked back outside.
“I still believe fate brought me here to put down roots,” Shelley said to Quinn as they headed away from the storefront, hand in hand. He made little circles with his thumb on her palm, loving the way she always got a little breathless when he teased her this way. Hell, when he teased them both. “But all these spaces have been horrible.”
Fate wasn’t something Quinn normally bought into, but how could he deny that he and Shelley were destined to meet? They lived minutes apart from each other in Maryland, he’d been to her coffee shop, and out of all the places she could have chosen for her solo honeymoon, she’d chosen his island.
It was as if their worlds were destined to collide.
Was it fate that brought them both to Mill Cove last Friday night? Was it fate that put him on the sailboat the day of her lesson? And if it was, what else did fate have in store for them?
As if beckoned, the answer to her café location problem suddenly popped into his head.
“I’ve got something to show you.” He spun them around so that they were heading north on Main Street toward the old gristmill.
“Where are we going?” She hurried to keep pace with him. “You heard what Tim said. There aren’t any other places available right now that would offer foot traffic, and without foot traffic, a café would sink. Even a really good one.”
He heard the disappointment in her voice and stopped walking. But he had no chance of restraining the smile that stretched across his cheeks, and he was too excited to even try to temper it. “Do you trust me?”