Sunday morning I opened my eyes and stared in puzzlement at unfamiliar sheer drapes hanging against a narrow window. Without my glasses or contacts, I had to squint to make out the gray stone wall next to the bed. I glanced at the rumpled plum-coloured comforter covering me—and then turned my head to find Mitch asleep beside me.

As I studied his sleeping face in the morning light, memories of last night flooded my mind and brought a giddy smile to my lips. My gaze roamed over his muscled bare shoulders and his toned arms folded over his chest. I couldn’t quite believe I wasn’t dreaming—though I’d never had a dream quite as dazzlingly sensual as last night’s reality. It couldn’t have been more different from our frantic first encounter on the island eighteen years ago. This time we’d explored one another slowly, with tantalizing kisses and caresses, building to an exquisite crescendo. We’d both learned a thing or two since we were teenagers.

Gently I brushed my fingers over his tousled dark hair, considering whether I might regret last night’s impulsive surrender to desire. I wasn’t exactly a master of restraint when it came to following my whims. Since my early twenties, I’d indulged in plenty of one-night stands and short-term trysts, and hardly ever regretted them. No obligations or complications—until I met Rob, I hadn’t thought I wanted or needed anything more.

Had last night been a one-off? I wasn’t sure, but it felt very different. Maybe because looking into Mitch’s face brought me back to a time before I’d grown cynical and begun building walls around my heart. His sleeping form beside me caused a pinch of longing in my chest that couldn’t be satisfied with a single night of bliss.

When Mitch finally stirred and his eyes fluttered open, I bent to place a gentle kiss on his bicep. He rolled to his side, looped his arm around my waist and drew me down to him, capturing my mouth to kiss me long and deep.

I smoothed my hand down the firm muscles of his back. A fresh wave of desire burned through me—a need for him that gripped my body and echoed in my soul.

“Are you ready for breakfast?” he asked against my lips, his voice rich and drowsy, while he tenderly stroked my hair.

“I’d better get back to my mom’s,” I muttered. “And prepare myself for a dressing-down when I see her.” I’d sent her a quick text last night while Mitch was trailing kisses along the curve of my neck and unbuttoning my blouse. I’d only told her I’d be out for the night and not who I was with.

“I thought I was the one dressing you down last night,” he teased, and dropped a playful kiss on my bare shoulder.

“You undressed me. That’s different,” I said with a giggle. Thinking back to the slow, erotic way he’d peeled off my jeans made me shiver.

Mitch relaxed against his pillow and regarded me with a curious look. “Your mom’s really going to give you a hard time? You’re a grown woman.”

“Try telling her that. Believe me, I have.” After kissing him once more, I slipped from the bed to gather my clothes from the hardwood floor.

“She should be proud of the woman you’ve become. Successful, intelligent, beautiful and charming. You’re wonderful.”

Sitting on the bed, I began buttoning my blouse and glanced over my shoulder to catch his earnest expression, surprised in a way by the sincerity in his tone.

After pulling on my jeans, I twisted to face him. “Mitch, I have a confession to make. I bent the truth a little. I did have a successful flower shop. But it went belly-up four months ago.”

A frown settled between his brows. “I’m sorry. Must’ve been heartbreaking.”

Relieved to have admitted the truth, I slid my palm over his and curled my fingers around his hand. The compassion in his eyes spurred me to blurt out more uncomfortable details of my recent past. “What made it worse was that about the same time, I broke up with my long-term boyfriend. I messed up.” I heaved a sigh and went on. “He proposed, and the idea of marriage scared me so badly that I ended the relationship. Just like that. After playing around my whole adult life, I thought I was ready for a real commitment—but when he asked, I panicked.”

Mitch slid his arm around my back and drew me closer. “You regret turning him down?”

As I leaned over him, my hair swung around my face, so I tucked it over one shoulder. “I did, but by the time that realization hit me, it was too late. He’d moved on. He’s got a serious girlfriend now. Her name is Shauna and she’s a professional cellist. Perfect for him, really. He loves the symphony.”

His warm hands enclosing my arms, Mitch drew me down so my forehead rested against his. “Don’t beat yourself up, Carly. Maybe your gut instinct was right and he wasn’t the man you were meant to marry.”

I shrugged, unsure. “Did I ever tell you how my parents met?”

“I don’t think so.”

Folding my legs under me, I settled against him, tucking my head at the crook of his neck. “My dad met my mom during a two-week vacation in Italy when he was twenty-three and she was twenty-one. It was one of those love-at-first-sight deals and they decided to get married so she could come back to Canada with him. I was born a year later, and we moved to Eastport so Dad could work at his friend’s auto repair shop. But obviously my parents weren’t a good fit. They stuck it out until I was thirteen, but I don’t remember them ever being happy together.”

“Is that why the idea of marriage freaked you out?” Mitch asked, stroking his fingers gently up and down my arm.

I lifted a shoulder, not answering.

He slid his fingers under my chin and tilted my chin up so I’d meet his gaze. “It’s not the same thing at all, Carly. Your parents’ marriage was pretty impulsive. You and this guy were together for a while, right?”

“About two years. The longest relationship I’d ever had. Or ever thought I’d have. Before I met Rob, I had a string of short-term boyfriends.” Locked in his gaze, I let my thoughts spill out, expressing truths I’d never admitted to anyone or even myself. “I was afraid of getting too close, I guess. Or maybe I didn’t feel like I deserved to be loved.”

A frown wrinkled his forehead. “I hope that wasn’t because of what happened with me.”

“It’d be easy to blame you, but…” I scooted down to rest my head on his chest, enjoying the soothing thrum of his heart against my cheek. “There’s a lot more to the story of Carly than what happened that summer between us. Anyway, I’m happy to be where I am right now. At this moment, with you.”

With Mitch’s hand cradling my head, I closed my eyes and told myself this had been anything but a one-night stand. It was the fresh start we both deserved. Just as it was supposed to happen.

When my phone buzzed, I groaned and glanced over at the nightstand where I’d left it. “It’s Brooke. I should get it,” I said, and shifted over to scoop up the phone. I tapped the screen to answer the call. “Hi. How’s Ava?”

“She’s fine.” Brooke sounded tired but calm. “Two little stitches in her finger, and she was very brave.”

“I’m so glad.”

“Sorry I stuck you with Mitch Logan last night. I haven’t seen him in years and I was caught by surprise, so I wasn’t thinking straight. It was such a long time ago that you and he—“

“Don’t give it another thought, Brooke,” I said brightly, throwing a glance at the man beside me whose warm hands were caressing my shoulders. “All that matters is that Ava’s all right.”

“What are your plans for today?”

“I suppose I’ll help mom cook Thanksgiving dinner.”

“I’ll be doing the same. Can we get together again Monday evening?” Brooke suggested.

“Yeah. I’ll be in town until Tuesday morning.”

“Great. Ava’s still asleep and I’m going to jump in the shower. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” I ended the call and turned to Mitch. “Ava’s fine. Just a couple of stitches.”

“Good news.”

I stood and padded to the bathroom to brush my hair and slip in my contact lenses. By the time I emerged, Mitch had his pants and sweater on and was standing by the bed with his key fob in his hand.

He gathered me to him, and the warm look in his eyes made my heart patter. “I meant what I said, Carly. You’re smart and capable and you’ll succeed again at whatever you decide to try next. Give yourself a chance.”

“Thanks. That means a lot,” I said. You’re too good to be true, Mitch Logan. “Damn, I wish I didn’t have to go.” I brushed my lips over his one last time and mustered every ounce of willpower I had to tear myself from his arms.