Cape Cod Kisses (Love on Rockwell Island 1)

But Shelley hadn’t much cared what the inside looked like. The feeling she’d had the first time she’d set her eyes on the gristmill was the same one she’d felt when she’d first seen Mill Cove and had decided to go skinny-dipping. She was drawn to it like metal to magnet.

It was, she thought with a smile, the same way she felt every time she looked at Quinn.

The interior of the mill had been dusty with the scent of old wood hanging in the air. Wide-planked and scarred wooden floors told of years of millwork, and in the center of the first floor was a big grinding stone with the bed and runner stones still in place. The gears in Shelley’s mind were already turning. She’d keep that beautiful grinding stone in place for customers to enjoy, maybe even put up a little information piece about it with the history of the mill.

A narrow stairwell led to a second floor, which could be perfect as living space or rented out as a separate shop for a local artist. She’d learned that until the mid-1960s, when most of the Mill family moved to the mainland, the mill had been used to grind cornmeal for the island, and it had remained empty ever since. With a little airing out, a lot of cleaning up, and the addition of shelves and work space, she knew it would be perfect for the café. Intimate and filled with character.

She stretched her legs across the couch and tucked her toes beneath Quinn’s thigh. They’d spent the late afternoon working side by side. He read through reports while Shelley worked on logistics for moving her business—and, of course, they kissed each other constantly. Long-distance relationships had never sounded very good to her, but if it meant being with Quinn, then she was up for anything. Especially, she thought with a wicked grin, a little break. One that involved a heck of a lot less clothes...

As if he could read her mind, Quinn slid his hand up her calf and smiled. “Your planning going well over there?”

“I’m a little excited,” she said, for more than one reason now as he set his document down on the coffee table and pulled her onto his lap. “Can you tell?”

“You’ve been writing ideas down like crazy in that notebook in your lap.” He lowered his mouth to the curve of her neck and nipped at the sensitive skin there. “There's nothing sexier than seeing you so happy.”

And there was nothing sexier to Shelley than this moment right here, right now, with Quinn. Wrapped in his arms, filled with the heady anticipation of pleasure soon to come. “I could get used to this.”

She thought she saw a flash of worry in his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“Making out with me on the couch...or us?”

“Both.”

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again. “Good answer. Now, about all these pretty clothes you've got on...”

Each of them already had a fistful of fabric in their hands, hurrying to strip her dress away, when her phone vibrated on the coffee table. From the corner of her eye, Shelley saw Mother on the screen, and her stomach clenched. She purposely didn’t put the word Mom on her mother’s contact information because the word Mom felt soft to Shelley, and her mother was anything but soft.

Quinn stopped undressing her to ask, “Do you want to get that?”

She grimaced. “Not really.”

But both of them obviously knew she wasn't going to ignore it. He gathered her hair over one shoulder and kissed her cheek as the phone vibrated again. “Maybe she’ll surprise you this time and be supportive.”

“I wish that were the case, but since it isn’t going to be, I’m not sure I want her to burst my bubble yet.”

“Don’t you think old dogs can sometimes learn new tricks? Take me, for instance, blowing off work to clam and sail and help my girl rent a cottage.”

My girl. His words were so sweet it melted her enough that she foolishly reached for the phone and reluctantly moved off of his lap.

“I’ll take it on the porch so just in case there aren’t any new dogs on the line, you won’t be tortured with the conversation.”

She answered the call on her way outside.

“Rochelle, it’s Mother. I spoke to Taryn’s mother today, who said you are entertaining some silly notion of moving to Rockwell Island?”

Damn it, Taryn. Her cousin knew better than to say anything to her mother, but must have been caught off guard. Just like that, Shelley’s happy, blissfully contented mood started to go down the tubes.

“Yes,” she said with a stubborn tilt of her chin that her mother couldn’t see. “I’m moving to Rockwell Island.”

“Rochelle.” Her mother exhaled loudly. “You’re twenty-seven years old and getting a little long in the tooth for finding a suitable man. It’s time you gave up your childish whims and focused on the important things in life.”