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Shelley had certainly seen the struggle in Quinn to find that balance between workaholic and letting himself have a good time just enjoying being on the island—and with her, too. At first it had been almost as if he was afraid of giving in to his emotions. He had seemed to let go, at least somewhat, when they were clamming and watching the sunrise, but at other times it had been as if he’d catch himself having too much fun and felt like he needed to reel himself back. Either that, or his phone would ring and remind him of all the work he should be doing.
Everything seemed to have changed, though, since he’d apologized about the phone call. Now he didn’t seem to be holding back his emotions with her at all. If anything, he was even more attentive than before. Shelley didn’t need anyone to take their hat off to her. It would be more than enough to know that Quinn was happier now than he’d been in a very long time.
“So, you said you’re going to open a coffee shop on the island?” Brandi asked. “I’m sure it’s going to do really well—we definitely need a good one here—and I’d love to see if we can work something out. All of my products are organic, and I do all the baking, so we’d have to coordinate a schedule that fits both of our needs, but I think we could make it work. Once you have the details figured out, why don’t you give me a call or just come by again so that we can figure everything out?” Brandi grabbed a business card from a holder by the register. “I could even make special items just for your shop that aren’t sold here.”
“That would be wonderful. I would love to have an exclusive menu. I’m really taken with your tarts. They’re so colorful.”
Brandi sighed dreamily and looked out the window, as if she were recalling a fond memory. “I took over this business from my grandmother, and she believed that colorful foods were as important as giving your child the right name or being kind to others. That’s what she used to tell me, as if the three things were related.”
“She sounds very special.” A wave of longing passed through Shelley as memories of Aunt Marla rolled in again.
“She was. She passed away last year, but she left a legacy for me to live up to. From peach tarts to summer-berry cream pie and strawberry-lemon pastries. Thanks to my grandmother, I can’t bake anything without wondering what color it should be.” She reached into the display and handed Shelley a peach and blueberry tart. “Here, try this. It was her favorite.”
Shelley took a bite and closed her eyes, savoring the taste of the sweet fruit, a delicious contrast to the smooth, buttery taste of shortbread. “Your grandmother would be very proud of your baking. I’ve never tasted anything so magical.”
“Magical? That’s exactly what my grandmother used to say, that because baking came from the heart, it added flavors of magic to our lives. I think you would have liked her, and she would have liked you, too. As much as Quinn Rockwell obviously does.”
By the time Shelley left half an hour later, she had gotten the scoop on what to expect with on- and off-season customer traffic. Apparently the resort was a major income producer for the whole town. They held a winter ball, and hosted a fall festival and a spring carnival, bringing enough tourists in year-round to sustain the other island businesses. Shelley was confident that she could make this work, and not only that, but from what Brandi had told her, most of the tourists came back year after year, and they loved talking with the local shop owners. It sounded as if Shelley’s love of getting to know people would be well received.
She walked down the road toward her cottage as she called her cousin.
“You’re doing it,” Taryn said when she answered the phone.
Shelley laughed. “How’d you know?”
“Because your energy comes through in your ringtone.”
“You’re such a goof.”
“A goofy genius, you mean! So you decided that you love the island, and you’re definitely not moving there just to hook up with Mr. Orgasm, right?”
“Taryn!” Shelley felt her cheeks heat up and looked around, as if anyone walking by could know what her cousin had said...or could know just how blissfully good Quinn made Shelley feel every time he kissed her, every time he touched her, every time he made her come apart for him.
“Hey, it’s been a long time for you. You deserve every orgasm you can get.”
“I really do, don’t I?” Taryn was like the sister she’d never had, and Shelley loved her dearly. “I can’t wait to get settled and have you down to show you the island.”
