Chapter 14 #2
Thomas excused himself and went back to the dining room, leaving Isabella to examine the fabric samples with Daphne.
As he left, his gaze briefly met Isabella’s, conveying something—perhaps regret over the interrupted moment, or maybe he was just glad to get out of there.
She had no idea if he was developing feelings like she was.
Right now, all she felt was an uneasy sensation in her stomach.
The remainder of the day passed in a blur of activity, including fabric approvals and staff reference checks. By late afternoon, Isabella found herself mentally exhausted but satisfied with the day’s progress.
As the workday ended and the construction crew began to leave, Isabella took a final walk through the property, noted the day’s accomplishments, and set her priorities for the next morning.
The inn was shifting from a construction site into a coherent building, with finished spaces starting to outnumber those still under renovation.
She found Thomas in his makeshift workshop set up in what would become the storage room, carefully restoring an original newel post from the main staircase.
His focus was complete, and his hands moved with the practiced precision of someone who had spent decades mastering his craft.
Isabella paused in the doorway, watched him work for a moment, and then announced her presence.
There was something compelling about observing how absorbed he was in the task, the reverence with which he handled the historic wood, restoring it to its original beauty with patient, skilled effort.
“That’s coming along beautifully,” she finally said, stepping into the room.
He looked up and smiled. “It’s responding well to restoration. The wood is sound underneath years of paint and neglect.”
“Rather like the inn itself,” she said, walking over to look at his work more closely.
“Exactly like that,” Thomas said. “Good bones, just needing the right care to reveal its true character again.”
Isabella ran her finger lightly over the partially restored newel post, feeling the smooth sections he had already refinished.
“I’ve been thinking about what you told me,” she said quietly, and a little more spontaneously than she had intended.
“About why you ended things between us all those years ago.”
Thomas set down his tools to give his full attention.
“And, well, I understand why you made the choice you did,” she continued, meeting his gaze. “Accepting responsibility for your child, being present for Emma - those were all honorable decisions, and I would have expected nothing less from you even back then.”
“Well, thank you for saying that,” he said, looking both relieved and still regretful. “Though I wish I’d been honest with you at the time.”
She nodded. “The truth would have been painful but less confusing than believing that what we had meant nothing to you.”
“It meant everything,” Thomas said softly. “Leaving you was the hardest decision I ever made in my life.”
The simple honesty of the statement hung in the air between them.
“So where does that leave us now?” Isabella asked, the directness of her question surprising both of them.
Thomas thought for a moment before responding.
“Well, that depends on what you want, Isabella. We’ve both lived full lives in the years since.
We’re different people than we were then, but I’ve come to care for you again - or maybe still - in ways that definitely go beyond this professional collaboration. ”
The admission touched Isabella. It reflected the same consideration he always had when he approached his restorations.
“I’ve developed feelings for you, too,” she said. “But I’m cautious. We’re in the midst of an important project, one that matters a lot to both of us, and complications could certainly jeopardize that.”
“I understand,” Thomas nodded. “The inn deserves our best work, no matter what’s going on in our personal lives.”
“And yet,” Isabella continued, “I definitely don’t want to ignore what’s happening here either. Maybe we could take our time, be mindful of our professional responsibilities, but remain open to the possibility of something more.”
A smile spread across his face, warming his blue eyes. “I’d like that very much.”
There were no dramatic declarations or impulsive actions, just two mature adults trying to acknowledge their past and present at the same time.
“I should go,” Isabella said finally. “Early meeting tomorrow with the landscape designer.”
“Of course,” Thomas said. “Though before you go, would you like to have dinner with me Friday night? Not to discuss work - just dinner.”
“I’d like that,” she said with a smile. “Where should we meet?”
“Let me surprise you,” he said. “I know a place I think you’ll enjoy.”
As Isabella drove home, she felt a sense of lightness that had been absent in recent years. The conversation had been brief but significant. She wondered what would come of this second chance at a relationship with Thomas. It was a little terrifying, but worth the risk.
* * *
Friday evening arrived with the most perfect early autumn weather.
Clear skies, a gentle breeze, and temperatures mild enough in the Lowcountry to be comfortable for outdoor dining.
Isabella carefully dressed for her dinner with Thomas, selecting a simple blue linen dress that complemented her coloring without looking overly formal.
When he arrived precisely at seven, he looked handsome in his khakis and sport coat, his salt-and-pepper hair slightly tamed from his usual workday style. It reminded her of their much younger days, when he would pick her up for a date.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you,” she replied, accepting the compliment. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Thomas Langley.”
He drove them not to one of the island’s restaurants she had expected, but to a small marina on the western shore. A modest sailboat awaited them.
“Dinner on the water?” she asked, pleasantly surprised.
“If that’s okay.” He nodded. “It’s the perfect evening for sailing, and there’s a cove I thought you might enjoy. Nothing fancy, just simple food in a beautiful setting. If that’s—”
“Well, it sounds wonderful,” Isabella assured him.
The sailboat proved to be Thomas’s own, a well-maintained vessel, as any of his personal belongings would be. He handled it with practiced ease, navigating out of the marina and into the open water beyond, raising the sails to catch the gentle breeze.
“I didn’t know you sailed,” Isabella said, as they glided smoothly across the water, the island’s shoreline receding behind them.
“Oh, it’s been a passion since just after college, though I didn’t have much time for it when Emma was young. But these past few years, I’ve rediscovered the pleasure of being on the water.”
Isabella found herself enjoying the peaceful movement of the boat and the opportunity to see Thomas in a different context - relaxed, engaged with something he clearly loved.
They talked easily as they sailed, their conversation flowing naturally between observations about the beauty of the coastline and personal topics, like books they’d enjoyed recently, places they’d traveled since college, and experiences that had shaped them over the years.
After about forty minutes of sailing, he guided the boat into a sheltered cove surrounded by marsh grass and ancient oaks.
“This is breathtaking,” Isabella said.
“One of my favorite spots,” he agreed as he dropped anchor. “Feels removed from everything, but it’s only a short sail from the marina.”
From a small cabin below deck, he carried up an insulated basket with their dinner - local specialties like shrimp caught that morning, fresh bread from the island bakery, and seasonal vegetables from the farmer’s market that he’d cooked himself at home.
A bottle of white wine completed the simple yet thoughtful meal.
They dined as the sun set, watching the spectacular colors across the sky reflect off the water around them. They continued talking, and the conversation flowed easily, as if the thirty years hadn’t passed since their college relationship ended.
“So, when did you know you definitely wanted to focus on historical restoration? You were studying architectural design in college with plans for building new construction.”
Thomas wiped his mouth. “It evolved gradually after I came back to the island. I started with small renovation projects while Emma was young, you know, work that I could schedule around her needs. And then I realized I had a certain sensitivity to the character of these old buildings.” He smiled slightly.
“Of course, my father’s influence. He treated these historic properties with such respect. ”
“Well, it suits you,” she said. “The patience, the attention to detail, the respect for history.”
“What about you? Corporate hotel management is definitely different from restoring a historic inn. What made you decide to make that change?”
Isabella looked out over the darkening water, gathering her thoughts.
“I had achieved everything I set out to accomplish professionally. I had all the titles, the responsibilities, and the respect of my peers, but I always felt like something was missing. I was maintaining other people’s visions, but never creating my own.
” She looked back at Thomas. “When the opportunity to purchase the inn appeared, it felt like the right moment to just build something that truly reflected my values and not some corporate list of priorities.”
“And has it met your expectations?” he asked. “The inn project, I mean.”
“Oh, it exceeded them,” she said. “Not just the renovation, although that’s been very satisfying so far, but the connections that I’ve made here with the community and the building’s history and the people who share my vision.” She looked at him directly. “And with you.”
There was a quiet moment of intimacy between them. Thomas reached across the small table between them and took her hand.
“I never expected to find you again,” he said softly. “Certainly not here, not like this. It feels like a second chance I don’t deserve, but I’m very grateful for.”
“Well, maybe we both needed the years between,” she said, “to become the people who could appreciate this opportunity.”
The feeling of his hand in hers felt so familiar, yet so new.
He nodded, his thumb tracing gentle patterns across her knuckles. “Wise as always, Isabella Montgomery.”
As darkness settled around them completely, stars emerged from the sky. They moved to sit side by side on the boat’s cushioned bench. The evening had cooled a bit, and Thomas draped a light blanket around Isabella’s shoulders, his arm remaining comfortably behind her.
They sat in silence for a bit, watching the moon rise over the marsh, its silver light creating a magical quality. The moment felt both new and familiar—echoes of their younger selves, yet deepened by life experiences that had shaped them in the intervening years.
“I guess we should head back soon,” Thomas said eventually, although he made no immediate move to raise the anchor. “The tide will be turning.”
Isabella hummed, equally reluctant to end their evening. “This has been lovely. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
He turned slightly to face her, his expression visible in the moonlight. “Thank you for being willing to explore whatever this is becoming between us. I know it’s complicated - our history and the renovation and all the island community watching our every move.”
She smiled. “Life is complicated, but that doesn’t mean we should avoid all connections that might be meaningful.”
“You sound like my daughter,” Thomas said. “She said almost the same thing to me recently.”
“Smart woman, your daughter. Must take after her father.”
“And her mother,” Thomas added honestly. “Sarah was very insightful about people and relationships.”
As they prepared to return to the marina, raising anchor and readying the sails, Isabella found herself thinking about the evening’s significance.
It hadn’t been dramatic or flashy, but rather just an exploration of what could happen between the two of them.
Thomas had struck a careful balance—romantic without being overwhelming.
Back at the marina, he secured the boat and walked her to her car.
“Thank you again for a wonderful evening,” Isabella said. “It was perfect.”
“I’m glad. Perhaps we could do it again sometime. There are other beautiful spots around the island I’d love to show you.”
“I’d like that very much.”
They stood close together in the quiet marina, the moment holding potential for further connection. Gently, Thomas leaned forward, his hand lightly touching her cheek as he kissed her. The contact was soft and brief, but held so many memories at the same time.
When they parted, she felt a sense of rightness that had been absent in her life for longer than she cared to think about. This was not the breathless excitement of youthful romance, but something more profound—a connection grounded in respect and shared values.
“Good night, Isabella,” Thomas said softly.
“Good night, Thomas.”