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A drink—or three—was exactly what Trent needed to chase thoughts of Reese out of his head. Otherwise, it was bound to be another long and sleepless night.
“Absolutely.”
Chapter Three
REESE WAS STANDING on the widow’s walk in front of her easel, her emotions howling and gusting inside her like a brutal storm as she painted, when she heard the glass doors to the loft slide open behind her and Jocelyn’s careful footsteps approach. Jocelyn had been there when Reese had fallen head over heels in love with Trent a decade ago. She’d been Reese’s maid of honor at their wedding. And then she’d been there to help Reese pick up the pieces of her broken heart after she and Trent had broken up.
“Reese? Are you okay? You’ve been up here for hours.” Jocelyn was tiny at five one and barely a hundred pounds soaking wet, but she was no wallflower. She could be as tough as a drill sergeant or as sweet as a preschool teacher—all skills Reese had heavily relied on ever since Jocelyn began running her gallery a few years ago.
Reese clearly heard the testing of the waters in her friend’s tone. Are you upset enough to need a hug, or do you need a swift kick in the butt, instead? Reese was so used to pushing away painful thoughts of Trent that she automatically said, “I’m okay, thanks.”
Jocelyn peered over Reese’s shoulder at the painting and arched a finely manicured brow. Her auburn hair tumbled over her shoulders as she narrowed her bright hazel eyes. “Actually, it looks like you’re still reeling over bumping into Trent.”
“I thought I was totally over him,” Reese suddenly blurted out, “and then, after all these years, he knocks me to my knees in five seconds flat. Tell me I’m an idiot.”
“You’re an idiot.” Jocelyn embraced her in a quick hug. “Of course, you know that if you change your mind about him, I’ll be right there saying you’re brilliant.”
“Joce…” Reese had been wrestling with her feelings for Trent all day, and the only way to deal with them and keep her sanity was to paint.
“What? That’s what friends are for, isn’t it?” Her friend sat on a deck chair, and as she kicked her feet up on the railing, she said, “Don’t give me that look. Mae is running the gallery. I’m on a helping-a-friend-in-need break. I’m allowed one a day. It’s in my contract.”
“You must have a really great boss,” Reese teased as she put her feet up beside Jocelyn’s and tried to relax.
“She’s the best. Oh, before I forget, Tami Preston called to remind you that she’s showing her artwork at the flea market on the other side of the island the day after tomorrow and you promised to go.”
“I’m glad she called. I’ve been so distracted that I probably would have forgotten. At least I remembered that I’m heading to Bay’s Edge tomorrow.” Reese taught painting classes for senior citizens at Bay’s Edge Assisted Living Facility.
“And Sierra called, as well, to let us know that she has a late meeting to go to before she joins us for our girls’ night out.”
Every few weeks Reese and Jocelyn enjoyed a girls’ night with Sierra Rockwell and her cousin Annabelle, who owned a clothing shop in town. Tonight Reese really needed the girls. Only...things suddenly seemed far more complicated than usual.
“Do you think it’ll be weird between me and Sierra now that Trent’s back in town for good?”
“Sierra has always been careful not to talk too much about her brother,” Jocelyn replied. “Why would it be any different just because he’s living here now?”
Reese eyed her painting, as if it held all the answers.
“Is it because you’re worried that she’ll see how conflicted you are? You do look a little on edge, but if I didn’t know you so well, I might think it was because of work or any number of things other than Mr. Hot and Delicious’s hands on your hips again.”
Reese tipped her head back and closed her eyes against the setting sun with a groan. She’d always worn her emotions on her sleeve, which was one of the things that had made it even harder when Trent had become too entrenched in work to notice. When they were living on the island, he’d noticed practically every breath she’d taken. But in New York, he’d barely noticed her at all.
And now she had no idea how to gain control of the emotions he’d unearthed with nothing more than a quick touch and a few words. She obviously hadn’t been able to paint them away today.
The only thing she knew for sure was that she was not over Trent Rockwell.
But at the same time, she definitely couldn’t let herself get hurt again. It had been a real test of strength to survive the deep, dark ache of missing him for the first few years after she’d left him. So even if managing her feelings for Trent was going to be the biggest uphill battle of her life, she knew she had to find a way to do it.
