She pushed the door open and inhaled the scent of furniture polish—and the huge vase of flowers she knew Quinn must have put inside the cottage for her to welcome her to her new home.
She laughed with delighted surprised as he lifted her into his arms and carried her over the threshold with a beaming smile.
“I’m so proud of you, Shell. You saw what you wanted and you went for it. I’ve said it a million times and I’ll say it a million more. You’re a remarkable woman.” He kissed her again before her toes touched the hardwood floor.
She crossed the room and opened the doors to the balcony. Fresh sea air brought the sheer curtains to life.
He moved behind her, wrapped his arms around her, and nibbled on the curve of her neck. “What do you say we christen every single room?”
After enjoying such a romantic evening at the tree house, Quinn had spent an hour and a half this morning catching up on phone calls he’d missed while Shelley had made a to-do list for moving her café. They’d had breakfast with his parents at Sierra’s restaurant, stopped by Quinn’s suite to pick up work he had to take care of for his partner, and then met the real estate agent.
She’d planned to unpack right away...but making love with Quinn in every room was the perfect way to celebrate what was already one of the best mornings of her life.
She turned toward the man who had appeared the first night she’d set foot on the island and had effortlessly wound his way into her heart. He’d accepted her for who she was, supported what surely looked like a whim, and had given her the best week of her entire life.
She hadn’t even been looking for a boyfriend. Who knew she would find love here on Rockwell Island?
Every ounce of her believed in Quinn’s love for her, and as much as she knew he worried about hurting her, she also knew he’d always do everything in his power to keep it from happening.
“Now that you’ve mentioned it,” she said in a husky voice as she turned in his arms, wonderfully aware of his hard wall of muscle beneath her hands and against her curves, “unpacking can definitely wait.”
His kiss was demanding and loving at once, sending a quiver through her. His hands explored her back, her hips, then moved back up to tangle in her hair. With a gentle tug, Shelley’s head tipped back as his lips traveled over her jaw, down her neck, and settled on her bare shoulder.
“Bedroom,” she whispered.
In one forward motion she was in his arms again as he took them up the stairs. They were nearly at her bedroom, and she was already reeling with need from the kisses he’d given her as he mounted each step, when his phone rang.
Quinn’s body immediately went rigid and Shelley held her breath. He’d spent a long time already on business calls that morning, and even though he’d tried to act like everything was okay, she’d seen restrained frustration written in every tight muscle for about an hour after the calls.
But he didn’t reach for the phone, clearly trying to ignore it as he laid her on the bed and came down over her. But when the phone sounded off again in his pocket, he cursed, two hundred plus pounds of tension levered above her on his forearms.
“Answer it,” she said softly.
“It can wait,” he nearly barked. His eyes were dark with the private war going off in his mind.
She caressed his cheek. “Quinn, we can wait.”
He looked down at the phone still ringing in his pocket and scowled as he moved to the side of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. A moment later, the ringing stopped.
Shelley came up on her knees behind him and rubbed the knots from his shoulders. “You have to take care of your work, just like I’ll have to take care of mine, but I have faith we’ll figure out how to strike a balance that works for both of us.”
But instead of agreeing with her, he simply brushed his hand lovingly once over her hair, then pushed to his feet and paced. Every step carried the weight of the storm brewing inside him. A storm that she could now see was even bigger than she’d thought.
His phone rang again, and they both froze. After a long minute of staring at each other with the phone ringing insistently between them, she stepped from the bed and put her arms around him.
“Take your call. And whatever it is you’re afraid to tell me, I can take it. It won’t change my moving to the island or my feelings for you.”
QUINN DIDN’T WANT to answer the phone. He knew what was coming, and he wanted to buy more time with Shelley, but when the ringing began for a third time, he had no choice. He’d learned earlier that morning that the merger was on the line because of potential fair trade issues—and they needed him in Maryland to negotiate.