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His world was a little less dark as he made his way from her cottage to the docks, but a little less didn’t even begin to brighten his mood.
Accepting flowers was one thing, but accepting his apology—and him—was a whole different program.
Was this how Chandler felt? Riddled with regret for the choices he’d made? And was there any chance that he had been a different man when he was younger?
Quinn wasn’t taking any chances of following that same lonely path. He was already on his way to change. Taking the day to teach a sailing class might seem like a baby step, but for Quinn to give up hours of work, it was a giant leap forward. And it was only the beginning.
One way or another, he was going to make last night up to Shelley and win her back.
Chapter Eleven
AFTER GRABBING A croissant at the resort’s coffee stand for breakfast, Shelley headed down to the marina for her sailing class.
The wide wooden dock reminded her of fishing with her aunt when she was little. Her father had been beside himself the summer she’d learned to fish, saying that no daughter of his should take part in such a filthy activity. Fishing, in his eyes, was fit only for old men with gray beards and yellow plastic coveralls. Shelley loved her parents, despite everything, but she’d never fit in with them.
The boat for the sailing lesson was at the dock, but Shelley didn’t yet see an instructor. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she stepped aboard to nose around a little before they got started. It had been a long time since she’d been on yachts with her family and smaller sailboats with her aunt. The deck was sleek, and the boat was spotless.
She was walking around the cabin when she stopped short at the sight of Quinn, shirtless and leaning over a pile of rope. For a moment, her brain went completely blank as she stared at all that gorgeously tanned, muscle. But then she remembered what he'd done, and as the hurt feelings came rushing back, she made herself shove the attraction down—all the way down.
Quinn turned, a surprised smile stretching across his face as he rose to his feet.
“Shelley. I’m so glad you’re here.” He closed the distance between them until he was so close that she could see a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his skin as he said, “I’m so sorry I took the phone call and I’m sorry I spent so much time on it. I’ve been wanting you to know all morning just how sorry I am for the way I behaved.”
She was stunned to see him on the boat…but even more stunned by his apology. One that seemed very heartfelt. Between his very sweet apology—and his close, shirtless proximity—it took her a few moments to find her voice. “I got the flowers.” Her chest clenched as she told him, “They were lovely. Thank you.”
“But they weren’t enough. I never should have behaved like that. I never should have treated you like you weren’t important to me.” His regret was palpable. “I came by last night to apologize, but your cottage was dark and I thought you were already asleep. And then, when I jogged by this morning to try to catch you before you went out, your curtains were drawn, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
His eyes were full of sorrow, but with an underlying hint of hope—hope that cut straight to her heart. It would have been easy to write Quinn off for his family name and extreme wealth alone, and she might have already done just that if he hadn’t repeatedly shown the other side of himself—and if she hadn’t met Abby and Sierra and connected with their easygoing personalities. If three Rockwells could be that warm and wonderful, didn’t that say something about the family as a whole? She didn’t want to be judged by her family name, so it wasn’t fair to judge them by theirs, was it?
But at the same time, he hadn’t hurt her because he was a Rockwell—he had hurt her by treating her like she hadn’t mattered last night. Years of that type of treatment from her family wasn’t buried as deeply as she’d hoped, and the sting of his ignoring her still remained even after he’d apologized.
Now, despite how wonderful it had felt to kiss him yesterday and how desperately she was aching to touch him again, somewhere in the back of her mind she heard a voice whispering a warning that she needed to be careful.
Knowing he was waiting for her response, with her thoughts in a conflicted jumble, what finally came out was, “I was looking for the sailing lessons. But I guess I’m not in the right place.”
