Free Cape Cod Promises: Love on Rockwell Island by Bella Andre, Melissa Foster

A few moments later, she pushed through the doors and inhaled a lungful of the crisp night air. Then another. And another.
    As she drove down the quiet streets toward her cottage, an unfamiliar feeling washed over her. So startling was the sensation filling her chest, so overwhelming, that it took her a few long moments to recognize it as relief. Her entire body felt lighter as it washed over her, through her.
    Despite desperately wanting Trent’s apology, she wasn’t fully ready to hear it yet. But at least she was finally allowing the thoughts and emotions she’d been suppressing for so many years to sail freely through her mind.
    And now, for the first time in forever, Reese felt like the heart she’d locked down so tightly during the past decade was finally allowed to feel again.

Chapter Ten
    REESE POPPED OUT of bed at five the next morning, feeling better than she had in a very long time. Her mind was spinning with ideas for the mural as she showered and dressed, filled a mug with coffee, and headed down to the resort to scope out her new canvas.
    Mornings had always been her favorite part of the day. She loved to watch the sun roll in over the water and listen to the crows as they cawed their messages from high in the pitch pine trees. She pulled her gray cashmere knit cap on and shivered in her thick cream-colored sweater, glad she’d thought to wear her favorite boots to ward off the September-morning chill. She set her messenger bag down on the grass and pulled out her sketch pad, then stood back, assessing the wall of the resort.
    She wouldn’t paint the entire wall. It was massive, and besides, Reese didn’t like boundaries. She often left her paintings free-floating in the center of her canvases, leaving the edges unconfined.
    Last night Trent had said that she’d have no boundaries. Had he said it because he remembered that about her? Because he sure remembered how to kiss her.
    There were kisses you wished had never happened. There were kisses that left a woman feeling no different from the way she’d felt before she’d experienced the kiss. There were kisses that made a woman’s skin go hot and her stomach flutter with anticipation. But Trent’s kisses?
    Trent’s kisses had always melted Reese’s clothes right off, from the first time he’d pressed his lips against hers.
    She sank down to the grass, sketching fast and furious as thoughts of Trent crashed over her like violent waves, then rolled back with soothing familiarity. Early on in their relationship, he had been able to take one look at her and know if she was sad, happy, confused, or longing to touch him. He’d lost that ability once they’d moved to New York City, but last night she’d felt him looking at her the way he used to. Really looking, as if he wanted to know everything she was thinking. Everything she was feeling.
    Once upon a time, she’d known him that well, too. But she’d deliberately tried not to look that deeply into his eyes last night, had been trying to keep some distance between them. Which was why she hadn’t seen the kiss coming, though she’d wanted it so badly she could taste him before their mouths even touched.
    Once their lips touched, her mouth remembered the beauty and the magic of kissing Trent, and her heart had been right there with it, wrapping itself around him.
    He’d surprised her and confused her with the kiss, but something told her he knew that , too. Just the way he’d noticed everything before they’d moved to New York. One sigh, one smile, one lift of her eyebrows, one crook of her finger toward the bedroom. There was nothing he hadn’t noticed. Nothing he wouldn’t do for her back then.
    Her pencil swirled and skated over the paper, creating dark streaks and contours, mimicking the emotions that coursed through her.
    Ten years ago, in the span of a few weeks, he’d made her his world—but then in the span of a few days in New York, he’d replaced their beautiful, sensual, loving