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“I’ve taken time off while I’ve been here,” he assured her.

“Do you mean the afternoon you left with Shelley?”

“We went clamming.”

“Clamming? Really?”

Quinn smiled at the surprise in his mother’s voice and the way she was now looking at him with a new light in her eyes.

“Why, Quinn...are you smitten?”

For a moment he was surprised by his mother’s question, in the same way he’d been initially surprised when Trent had called Shelley his girlfriend. But just as he had in the hotel suite with his brother, Quinn found himself enjoying the declaration.

Because if being smitten meant coming completely alive from the inside out every time he thought of Shelley—and definitely every time he touched her—then it was right on the money.

“We’re planning a family dinner on Wednesday,” his mother said, her grin now matching his. “Why don’t you bring Shelley with you?”

Griffin leaned in closer to Abby. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but is it okay if we get started?”

“Of course.” Griffin stole a quick kiss, then settled back into his chair and addressed his children.

“You kids know your mother and I are proud of you, but we want to tell you again how much it means to us that you’ve come together for the good of the residents of Rockwell Island.” Griffin smiled at Abby, who had settled her hand over his. “Someone raised you right, and I give that credit to your mother.”

“Please, Griff. Let’s not get all sappy. We both raised them right, but even we can’t take credit.” Her warm gaze met each of theirs. “We might have provided the foundation, but each of you kids made yourselves who you are. Life is full of choices and opportunities, and we’re proud of the choices you’ve made for yourselves.”

She turned her gaze to Quinn and said, “And you’ll have many more choices to make. Some imminent, some in the distant future. But as long as you always make them with your heart as much as your head, I know you’ll always make the right ones.”

“We’d never turn our back on the island, Mom,” Sierra said. “How could we? It raised us as much as you guys did.”

Boy, wasn’t that the truth? From the cove being Quinn’s place to unload and work through his teenage angst, to learning patience by sailing, clamming, and troubleshooting his way through fixing boats. They learned about community by assisting residents in securing their vessels before storms and fixing them afterward. After the hurricane a few years back, when some residents suffered tremendous damage to their homes, the community came together to help, opening their homes and making meals for those in need. Even Chandler had opened a wing of the resort to be used as shelter for those who had lost their homes and offered free meals at the resort’s restaurant. Quinn knew Shelley would have also pitched in any way she could have if she’d lived on the island back then.

“Do you agree, Quinn?” Trent asked.

Damn, he hadn’t even heard the question. “Sorry, I lost the thread for a second there.”

“We’re talking about positions,” Ethan repeated for him. “Dad should be named as president of the resort, don’t you agree?”

“Without a doubt.”

Of course their father deserved the highest position at the resort. In Quinn’s opinion, no better man had ever walked the earth. Griffin had taught them how to sail, how to play baseball. He’d taught Quinn how to rebuild a boat’s engine alongside the deckhands. He’d given him the courage to ask out his first date and laughed with him after his prom. You did good, son. You got your first taste of what it’s like to let a woman lead you around by the nose. Quinn smiled at the memory. His father hadn’t meant it in a demeaning way. His love for Abby was evident in everything he did. It was in the way he looked at her, the way he touched her every time he passed, and when he spoke of her, adoration laced every word. He was a good man, and Quinn was proud to have been raised by him.

“As far as the other duties,” Trent said, “I’ve been going over the current infrastructure. Chandler has directors in each division, but it doesn’t appear that he’s ever given them full authority. It seems like he’s always had his hands in the negotiations in every department. Am I reading this information incorrectly, Dad? I reviewed the contracts from suppliers and the files. It seems he’s still overseeing everything but not doing such a good job of it lately.”

“As you all know, your grandfather can be quite controlling.” Their father paused as they all chuckled at that understatement. “He’s a shrewd negotiator, and since he lives and breathes the resort, he’d never let anything slip. But this last year, as his health worsened, so did his ability to keep up.”

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