Author's Note: I'm so grateful for the reviews you've left. THANK YOU! There was a moment when I was writing this part of the story in July where I thought about wrapping it up after summer was over. Just one more chapter, I thought, but sometimes these two get a hold of my brain and force me to keep going. So I did...Hope you enjoy.

This chapter is rated M for mature.

The following morning, I head into town to do some grocery shopping for my mom and me, which is nothing like the load I haul when I'm shopping for the summer residents. We like to stock up on food so that we only have to sail across the water a few times in the frigid winter months. Instead of keeping groceries for the soshes in our industrial sized refrigerator, we store our own food in it from September through February, mostly using the freezer for meats and seafood. My mom and I also make tons of vegetable broth with leftover pieces of carrots, celery, bell peppers and onions, which serves as a base for the many soups we make in the winter.

Instead of driving back home from the marina on the South road, I decide to take a spin up Oyster Island Road to see if any of the soshes are still around. There's a car at the Holt's place and two at the Collier's, but every other home seems unoccupied, which is typical for this time of year. I have to help Boone winterize them this week—a task I don't enjoy but from which I make a decent wage. I'll take any little jobs here and there that I can since I dropped what I consider a fortune on clothes and shoes on Saturday.

I park in front of the Chapman house and smile, reminiscing about the party they threw for the locals. I wish Piper would walk out that front door, but I know that's impossible. I remember everything about the first day we met in this exact spot, including her tiny running shorts and pink, long-sleeved dri fit shirt. It was the first time I noticed (and immediately appreciated) her blue eyes. Little did I know that chance encounter would lead us to where we are now.

My phone rings, startling me as if it was a smoke alarm going off. I don't recognize the number, but I answer anyway. "Hello?"

"Alex, Bill Chapman here," he replies. "How are you?"

I feel like I've been caught staring at his home, so I quickly drive away in case there are cameras monitoring the grounds. "I'm fine, thanks. How are you?"

"Getting back into the swing of things, I guess." I picture him smiling as he stares out a huge window of his 20-story office building. "I'm calling with some good news—I've found a silent investor who's interested in your renovation of the Victorian home."

"What?" I stop the car immediately, jerking my head back.

"He's willing to financially back your project with an initial investment of $100,000," he says.

I can't believe my ears. "I…I don't know what to say."

"I'm going to e-mail some paperwork over to you," Bill responds. "Take a look at it, then get back with me within 48 hours if you want to proceed."

I'm stunned at this turn of events. "Is this a loan or something?"

"Sort of," he replies. "You'd have to pay back the money through profit sharing once the business is up and running. You'll see in the paperwork that the investor wants 40 percent of profits for the first five years. There are a lot of details surrounding the numbers, including the penalty for not paying back the money in full, but I won't bore you with details over the phone. Just take a look at the PDF, and we'll arrange a call on Wednesday morning when I can answer any questions you might have."

"Yeah, ok…" I still don't believe this is real. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I hang up and blink several times as a smile crosses my face. If the paperwork is satisfactory, I can restore the old Victorian home. I immediately text Piper, and she's as ecstatic as I am about the prospect of creating a bed & breakfast on the island.

I drive home, eager to fill in my mom. She knew about my hope of restoring the old house, but like me, that dream faded after my meeting with Bill over Labor Day weekend.

"Mom?" I walk in the screen door.

"In here, hon," she calls from the laundry room. "Did you find everything we needed at the store?"

"Yeah," I reply. "I just got off the phone with Piper's dad."

She stops folding a pair of jeans and stares at me.

"He found a silent investor for the old house," I say hardly believing my own words.

"What? Are you serious?"

I nod. "He's sending over the paperwork as we speak."

She hugs me. "Al, that's terrific news!"

"I'm going to run next door to grab my iPad, and we can look at it together." I exit through the back door and all but sprint back to my house, then I remember I have some cold groceries to store. I quickly shove them into the refrigerator in the shed, and then get my iPad.

My mom is waiting in the living room with two glasses of iced tea. "Did he send it?"

I open my e-mail. "Yeah." I download the PDF and see 12 pages of small print. "Fuck, this is long."

She peeks over my shoulder. "And miniscule. Will you read it to me?"

I sit on the edge of the sofa. "I keep saying you need glasses."

"No one can read that small print even with 20/20 vision!" she shoots back. "You have 'em, so you can tell me what it says."

I scan the first part that's all a bunch of legalese, then say out loud the parts that seem relevant. It takes 20 minutes to read every word and another few to synthesize what the contract states.

"It sounds like the big risk is if the project doesn't get done, you're on the hook for $100,000 plus interest."

I nod. "And they'd garnish my wages if that happens."

She points to the iPad. "What was the part about if the business is unsuccessful?"

"It doesn't say how much we'd have to earn, only that the investor would get 40 percent of income every month." I take a sip of iced tea and read the line about profit sharing and defaulting on the loan. "We'd just have to make sure the hotel is full all summer," I say. "I'll do some research on price structure."

I don't know the first thing about what I'm about to tackle.

"I wonder if Piper can help with any of that?"

I grin. "Probably." If there's one thing Piper is great at, it's research.

We spend the next two hours rereading parts of the document and discussing strategies for making this come to life. I call my friends, asking them to join my mom and I for dinner tomorrow evening so we can talk about the reality of this project happening this fall, winter and early spring. If they think we can do it, I'll call Bill on Wednesday morning and give him the green light.

That night, I call Piper and read parts of the contract to her, and unlike my mom and I, she seems to understand almost every line.

"How many rooms are you thinking?" she asks.

"Maybe six or seven," I reply. "I have no idea, really."

"Are you planning to gut the house?"

I nod. "Yeah, then I'll take measurements to see how many I can fit."

"It would be great if you could make at least eight." It sounds like she's walking in the rain. "Any fewer than that isn't going to turn a big profit. I'd also recommend putting in a small restaurant. Other than the Friday farmer's market, there's no place to eat on the island."

"I've thought about that, but we'd probably have to add on to the house," I respond. "Is it raining over there?"

"Yeah. I'm using an umbrella on my way to the library," she says. "Will you call after dinner tomorrow to let me know what your friends think?"

"It might be late, but yeah."

"Ok. Good luck and keep me posted."

"I will, babe. Bye."

The next morning, I wake up and immediately begin researching how in the hell to open a bed & breakfast. I already know how to build a house from the ground up, and what I don't know a friend or two will surely fill in. I quickly research how to do marketing, sales, customer service and branding. I spend about an hour on each category and begin creating a document on the steps I need to take to make this a success. The parts that are most foreign to me are getting a business license and all the inspections I'll need, but the twins had to do this three years ago when they opened the kayak and paddleboard rental shop, so maybe they can help.

The more I read, the more I realize I don't want this to be a bed & breakfast because I have no intention of serving a complimentary meal each morning; rather, it'll be a boutique hotel. Trouble is, I've never stayed in a hotel in my life. If I'm going to do proper market research, I'll need to tour a few properties to get things right. I hope Piper will be willing to join me hopping around from hotel to hotel when she has time.

That night, I grill bratwursts and my mom makes enough potato salad to feed all ten of us. We borrow the Thompson's folding tables and eat the simple but tasty meal on my mom's deck. I fill them in on the silent investor's commitment, ready to field their questions.

"Have you done the specs on the house yet?" Boone asks. He's probably the most skilled laborer on the island and can even do plumbing work.

"No," I reply, knowing full well there's no way I could do this alone.

"What kind of wiring is in the old house?" Brian asks. He and his twin are geniuses when it comes to anything with a power switch.

"Doesn't matter—" I take a bite of sausage. "We'd have to redo all of the wiring plus the plumbing."

Boone takes a sip of beer. "You're looking at a mighty big task."

"I haven't signed on to do the project yet," I say. "And I know I can't do it without all of you."

"What kind of timeline are we looking at?" Wyatt questions.

"I'd like to have everything done by next Memorial Day."

He raises his eyebrows. "That would mean working through the winter."

I lift my shoulders. "That's how I built my house."

"And it took you two years," Brian chimes in.

"I worked on it like four or five hours a day when I felt like it," I answer. "It wasn't a huge priority to finish since I had a place to stay."

My mom nods.

"If we attempt to restore the old Victorian house, I'll work on it all day, five or six days a week," I continue. "I'm not asking for the same commitment from each of you, but if you're interested, I'll pay $20 an hour."

"Not bad," Brian replies.

"Not great either," Boone says.

"None of us makes money during the off season." I take a sip of Miller Lite. "I'm offering you the chance to rake in about $500 cash for not even a full week of work."

Wyatt eyes Boone. "She's right. I'm in."

"Us, too," the twins agree.

"I'll help however I can," Trina responds. "And if you need a waitress or something when it's all up and running, I'd love to be a part of it."

I haven't thought about staffing, though I know it'll be an issue with so few people to choose from on the island. I make a mental note to address that in the coming weeks. We continue talking about the restoration project for another hour or so, agreeing to meet at the house tomorrow morning to check things out. As soon as they leave and I clean up, I call Piper and relay the news.

"Let me get this straight," she begins. "You want me to gallivant around New England to check out boutique hotels with you?"

"Yeah," I reply.

"Um, yes! That sounds amazing," she says through laughter. "Northampton is a good starting point to visit inns all over New England, so when you visit me over the next few months, we can stay at hotels within an hour or two of here."

"Sounds like a plan."

"This is going to be so much fun."

Piper's right—parts of this adventure will be fun, but parts of restoring the old home are going to probably test my patience. I'm not completely convinced I can pull it off, but if I get the loan and my friends agree to help, maybe I can.

Time scurries by over the next few weeks and my friends and I decide it'll be worth the effort to restore the old house. I've accepted the silent investor's money, and now we can begin sizing up the magnitude of the project and building a timeline for the restoration. The more work we can do before it snows, the better off we'll be. Boone suggests we spend most of our time on the exterior to the extent that we're able so that when the temperature dips below freezing, we can work inside. We'll wait until the early spring to paint the exterior and do some much needed landscaping.

"Do you have everything?" my mom asks as I toss a duffle bag into the back of my Jeep.

I make sure the convertible top is secure. This is the first time I've put it on now that it's getting colder. "I think so."

"Have a blast, hon." She hugs me. "And tell Piper I said hi."

"I will." I smile. "I'll call tomorrow afternoon."

"Sounds good."

I get in and turn on the engine, ready to fast forward two hours and be in Piper's arms.

The plan is for me to meet her at Smith, and we'll stay one night in her dorm room, but then we'll stay in a different boutique hotel the following two nights.

As I ride the ferry across the Sound, I think of the last time I was on this thing—the day I said goodbye to her. It brings a nostalgic smile to my face, and I'm happy we're on the other side of that painful day. I've missed her tremendously this last month, but each day gets a little brighter as I know I'm going to spend time with her this fall. It also helps that the restoration project takes up much of my time. Wyatt and the twins are rebuilding the turret while I'm away, and Boone will begin replacing the roof with Tim's intermittent help.

The drive to Northampton is beautiful as some of the leaves have begun turning shades of gold and red. The maple trees are the first to change hues, and a few of the roads I drive down are lined with their bright colors. Although it's a little cloudy today, the air is crisp and clean. It smells different out here—there's no salinity in the air; rather, it's a more earthy kind of smell that reminds me a little of being in the middle of the forest on Oyster Island.

Throughout my drive, I reflect on the fact that everything about this adventure is new to me. The furthest I've ever driven is to a town five miles outside of Branford that has an incredible plant nursery. I've never been on a freeway and certainly never across state lines. I pull over and take a picture of the Welcome to Massachusetts sign and text it to my mom. There is so much of the world I've never seen, and until meeting Piper, I wasn't very curious about it. As I drive on these long country roads, I've got a tiny sense of wanderlust.

The sun has set by the time I arrive in the charming town of Northampton. I text Piper when I'm at a stop light, letting her know I'm five minutes away, and my pulse quickens. I'm sure she hasn't changed physically in just a month, but I wonder if there'll be a difference in her persona. It makes me a little nervous, but my excitement about seeing her trumps any nerves that have surfaced.

I pull into the designated parking spot next to the pond that she told me about, and as soon as I turn off the ignition, I see her jogging towards me. I get out of my Jeep and open my arms, ready to hold her and never let go.

"You're here," she whispers in the crook of my neck.

"Finally." I breathe in her once familiar powdery scent, and it's enough to intoxicate me. I pull back and place my hands on her cheeks. "It's so good to see you."

She kisses me.

I don't care if anyone sees me making out with my girlfriend in the middle of the Smith College campus. There was no way to keep this from happening after a month apart.

She rests her forehead against mine. "I've been dreaming about this moment since the day I left."

I run a hand down the back of her head. "Me, too." I kiss her once more before finally looking at the surroundings. "So, this is where you live?" I see a variety of short buildings, a pond and large swaths of grass that are dotted with massive trees.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" She grabs my hand. "I'll take you on a little tour."

I get my bag and walk with her around the relatively large campus, but as the minutes tick by, I become eager to be alone with her.

"And this is my house," she says as she jogs up the four steps. "It's called Sessions House, and it's the oldest one on campus."

I stare up at it. "It kind of reminds me of the old Victorian home."

"Exactly. Every time I look at it, I think of you."

I follow her up a flight of stairs.

"This is our study lounge." She walks past the open area, and then stops at the third door. "My roommate is spending the night at a friend's house, so we have the place all to ourselves."

Good, I think. I hadn't even considered what would happen if we had to share a room with someone. They'd likely get an eyeful because in no universe will I refrain from making love to my girlfriend.

"It's cute."

There are two twin beds on either side of the room and two built-in desks near the windows. The pale yellow walls are covered with posters of famous authors and natural landscapes. I can tell Piper's side of the room when I see a poster with famous quotations next to a shelf full of books, including one about treasure hunts. There are two framed photos of the two of us, and I pick one up and smile.

She sidles up to me. "Remember when we took that?"

"Our second trip to Lavender Island." I grin. "That was a good day."

She rests her chin on my shoulder. "Every day with you was a good day."

I set the picture down, then turn in her arms. We begin kissing again, and I relish the taste of her. I close my eyes and am transported back to the island when we were afforded moments alone like this.

"I've missed you," she says between kisses.

"So much," I reply.

In a matter of seconds, we begin undressing. I can't touch enough of her bare skin, and from the looks of it, Piper feels the same. She places one hand on my ass, massaging the soft flesh and the other on my breast, tweaking my nipple. My hand journeys from her left breast to her center, and she moans when I reach it. Finally, we sit on her bed, and I gently lower her onto her back. I stare at her body, noticing the once pronounced tan lines beginning to fade. My fingertips glide along her bikini line, and I remember making love in the water after she caught the Jack Crevalle.

"Why are you smiling?" she asks.

"Just remembering how often we used to do this," I reply, bending down to suck a nipple into my mouth. "How much I've missed it." I switch to her other breast, giving it the same attention.

Piper's little sounds have always turned me on, but tonight they're making me positively wet without her having touched more than my breasts and my ass. I wonder if I could cum without pressure on my clit—just by the sound of her voice and me pleasuring her. I place a string of open-mouthed kisses down her stomach, remembering how strong it is, and then hover over her center. I open it with two fingers and take my first lick, and Piper's hips rise in anticipation.

She spreads her legs wider, and I waste no time diving in full force. It would be impossible to have enough of her in my mouth, but I sure as hell try. I've missed everything about the woman beneath me—her voice, her mind and her body. I've known from the beginning that she's the total package, and I can't believe I'm lucky enough to be on the other end of her love.

She makes the familiar guttural sounds that I know means an orgasm is close, so I insert one finger into her tight opening, hoping to feel her inner muscles clench around it. I don't have long to wait as she bursts into loud spasms, calling my name. I hadn't forgotten how loud Piper is when she cums, but I smirk into her pussy at the reminder. Fuck it if the girls next door hear her—I want this to be the most powerful orgasm she's ever had.

"Wow," she pants. "That was amazing."

I lick her clean, then make my way up her body to lie next to her on the slim twin bed. "It was."

She twists her neck on the pillow, placing one hand on my jaw. "I love you, Alex."

I give her the most genuine, happy smile I can. "I love you too, babe."

We don't sleep much that first night in favor of making love in every imaginable position. Although I don't count the number of orgasms we have, it has to be close to double digits. I haven't been nervous about Piper not being as into me as I am into her since she moved away, but it's refreshing to have that proven tonight. Our connection is palpable.

We drift off to sleep in the wee hours of the morning, bodies splayed all over each other, and I can't imagine any other place I'd rather be.