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Quinn was used to women gushing over his familial wealth and the extra-flirtatious giggles and touches they lavished him with when they found out that he was a Rockwell, even if he didn’t care for it.
“Yes, that Rockwell.” He nodded to the table behind him. “That’s my family.”
In an instant, the shimmer of desire that had sparked between them when he’d found her in the bar all but disappeared. But before he could even get a chance to ask Shelley what he’d said—or done—wrong, Quinn felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Quinn, honey,” his mother said, “in all the hullabaloo, I forgot my purse.”
He’d been so lost in Shelley that he hadn’t seen his mother come back into the restaurant.
“Shelley.” His mother smiled warmly. “I’m so glad you made it.”
“Thank you, Abby,” Shelley said, although her voice sounded a bit strained now. “Your directions were perfect.”
“And I see you’ve already met Quinn.”
Abby applied gentle pressure to the hand on Quinn’s shoulder in a way that reminded him of when he was twelve and had won a sailing medal. Before going up to accept the award, his mother had touched him on his lower back, giving him a gentle nudge forward.
But he didn’t need a nudge toward Shelley. He was ready to sprint toward her.
Only, somewhere between the look of desire they’d shared when he’d first walked up to her in the bar and when she’d learned his last name, their connection—or rather, her connection—seemed to have been severed.
He couldn’t believe he was on the verge of losing the brightest part of this whole trip back to the island.
“Sierra, honey. Come here for a moment.” His mother waved his sister over. “I want you to meet Shelley. She owns a gourmet coffee shop off the island, and I was thinking it would be great for the two of you to get together to chat about all the possibilities for a café like that here on Rockwell Island.”
“It’s great to meet you, Shelley, and I’d love to talk about possibilities,” Sierra said.
Quinn could see by the silent questions in his sister’s eyes that she’d also already noticed his interest in Shelley.
“I’m afraid I have another meeting to go to right now,” Sierra said. “But let’s be sure to get together soon. I’m usually here at the restaurant, or you can come by my house. I live in the bungalow at the end of Shore Road, right on the beach, and if the light’s on, it means I’m home.” She jotted down her phone number and handed it to Shelley. “Why don’t you give me your number, too?”
Shelley wrote down her number, then handed it to Sierra. “I’m really looking forward to it.”
As both his mother and sister headed out of the bar, Shelley took a step away from him as if she were planning to follow them out.
Quinn touched her elbow before she could go, not at all surprised by how electric that one small touch felt. “Have a drink with me?”
Something dark flashed in her eyes, almost as if she was warring with herself for the heat sparking between them. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Not a good idea? Women usually clamored to tie him and his brothers down, and she thought a drink wasn’t a good idea? Hadn’t she been the one to kiss him last night? And hadn't the kiss blown both their minds?
“How about a walk on the beach, then?”
“Honestly, this”—she pointed her finger between them—“is probably not a good idea.” She sighed and shifted her eyes away, but not before Quinn saw the struggle in them. “You’re a Rockwell, and I’m…”
“Not going to hold it against me?” he teased to try to lighten the mood.
A soft laugh escaped her lips—the same laughter that had caught his attention last night at the cove and played again and again in his head in the early hours of the morning. The sweet and sexy sound tugged at his heart in a way that he didn’t understand or recognize. But at the same time he couldn’t, and didn’t want to, ignore it.
Whatever her reason for not wanting to spend time with him anymore, he was determined to change her mind. “I could tell by how comfortable you were in the cove last night that you really love the island, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then I promise you’re going to really love this secret spot that tourists don’t even know exists.”
Quinn put his hand on the small of her back, hoping she’d let him lead her toward the door. He felt the eyes of his family on them, but he didn’t care. He didn’t know how long Shelley was on the island, but he didn’t want to take a chance that she’d leave without him having a chance to get to know her better.
“Do you really have a secret place that no one knows about?”
