She hadn’t even realized that she’d been holding herself back. But obviously she had, because when she’d watched Sarah and James together with their new baby, she’d felt all the hopes and dreams she’d packed away ten years ago come rushing back. She was finally ready to fall in love and get married again, and start a family. This time, with a man who wouldn’t dream of putting her last on his list.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop herself from peering down again at Trent while he ran up the steep stairs, looking devastatingly handsome—and dangerously threatening to her heart.
But her future children deserved more than a father who worked twenty-four seven. And she deserved a husband who would be a true partner.
Reese grabbed her easel and supplies and hurried toward the parking lot. She couldn’t—and wouldn’t—keep wishing things had gone differently between them.
It was time to move on. Once and for all.
* * *
DEALING WITH CHANDLER Rockwell was never comfortable. But today, as Trent prepared to walk into his grandfather’s office, he struggled not only to steel himself against Chandler’s cold nature, but also with the incessant questions and unfamiliar feelings he’d been plagued with since running into Reese last night. It was difficult enough to pull his shoulders back and put on his lawyer face with his grandfather on a normal day, but it was even harder to be strong when his insides felt like they were twisted into knots.
“You going to stand out in that hall forever?” Chandler grumbled.
Trent lifted his chin as he walked into Chandler’s office. “Good morning, Grandfather.”
His grandfather’s dark eyes tracked him as he crossed the room. Chandler’s narrow-eyed stare, coupled with the firm press of his lips, gave him an ever-present look of disdain. He was dressed in a blue button-down shirt and silk tie, and his frail hands clung to the arms of the wheelchair, his thick, black brows drawn into an angry slash. Trent wondered how anyone could live in a paradise like Rockwell Island and continually seem disgruntled. But he knew better than to let those questions show on his face—steady eye contact, a professional smile, and a nod always did the trick with his grandfather.
Trent smiled warmly at Chandler’s private nurse, who was standing dutifully beside his wheelchair. “Good morning, Didi.”
“Good morning, Trent.” Didi’s Mediterranean accent made her answer sound as regal as she looked in a sea-green dress, her long blond hair pinned up in a bun.
Up until a few months ago, Chandler had gone through nurses like others might go through tissues, but Didi had proved to be as strong-willed as his grandfather. Trent sensed that she’d somehow managed to gain Chandler’s respect, as well. Lord knew, she had Trent’s respect for being able to put up with the man the way she did without losing her self-respect.
Chandler nodded toward the leather chair across from his massive desk. “This won’t take long.”
Then you should have just called me instead of taking me away from my work to come to your private wing of the resort.
But Trent knew that wasn’t how things worked with his imperious grandfather. Chandler beckoned, and everyone jumped.
Chandler leaned slightly forward and shifted his eyes to the door as if he expected someone to walk through before saying in a hushed but stern tone, “I need you to track down the deed for the resort.”
“That should be easy enough. I’ll go through the files and have it sent up to you shortly.”
Chandler had mandated that Trent and his three brothers give up the businesses they’d spent a decade building to return to the island full-time and run the resort for a year—something they’d all balked at. But Chandler’s threat of selling the resort to a large conglomerate that would have fired the loyal staff and left hundreds of island residents without employment was enough to make Trent and his siblings accept the proposition with a few caveats. Trent and his brothers had stood firm in an all-or-nothing stance—include their sister, Sierra, and their father, Griffin, as well, or they all walked away—and Chandler had met their demands. Most importantly, their grandfather had agreed to keep his hands out of all business dealings.
Which was why Trent wanted to know, “Why do you need the deed?”
But Chandler simply sat back and waved his hand in the air as if the reason weren’t important. “Just bring it to me.” He turned to Didi before Trent could ask any further questions. “I’m not feeling well this morning. Please take me back to my room now.”
Trent rose to his feet with a frown. He knew enough about his grandfather’s machinations over the years to wonder just what the hell Chandler was playing at now.
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER Trent had gone through most of the files in his office but was no closer to finding the deed than he was when he’d begun looking. After placing a call to the courthouse and learning that the transfer of the deed was never filed after his great-grandfather’s death, he had to redirect his search and look for the original transfer paperwork.