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Gansett Island Boxed Set, Books 1-16

Page 136

by Force, Marie


  “I know. He definitely has his moments.”

  Laura hugged Stephanie. “I’m so happy for you. No one deserves to be happy more than you do.”

  “Thanks. I’m so happy it’s not even funny. Not only do I get a lifetime with Grant, my dad is free and clear and figuring out what’s next. His battle was at the center of my life for so long that some days I can’t believe I don’t have to think about it anymore.”

  “It must be such a relief,” Grace said. “I can’t even imagine what that was like.”

  “It was a fourteen-year nightmare.”

  “It’s all in the past now, and you can do anything you want,” Laura said.

  “I know,” Stephanie said with a gleam in her eye. “That’s why I’m finally going to open the restaurant I’ve always dreamed of.”

  “Open it in the hotel,” Laura said. The words were out of her mouth before the thought was fully formed.

  Stephanie’s confusion showed on her face. “Huh?”

  “Adele—Owen’s grandmother—and I agree that we need a top-shelf restaurant in the hotel. We’ve got the space and a huge kitchen and everything you’d need. We’ll renovate it to your specs—whatever you want.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “I’m dead serious.”

  “I love that idea,” Grace said. “You guys would make a great team.”

  “I totally agree,” Laura said, more in love with the idea with every passing minute. “You’d have carte blanche over the restaurant. It’d be totally yours.”

  “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say yes,” Laura said. “Let’s work together to bring the Surf back to its former glory.”

  “It does have everything I want—an ideal location in town, a spectacular view of the water and built-in foot traffic,” Stephanie said. “It sounds perfect, but I’d need to take a closer look at the kitchen and dining room before I decide for sure.”

  “Come by in the morning and look to your heart’s content.”

  “I will. Thank you for the amazing idea. If it works out, this could be terrific for both of us.”

  “Yay,” Grace said, clapping her hands. “Now let’s hear about what happened with the ex—and Owen.”

  Laura filled them in on the highlights—or lowlights as they were—of her conversation with Justin.

  “So where does it stand now?” Stephanie asked, still scowling over Justin’s comment about the baby’s paternity.

  “I’m waiting on him. I left there convinced he would sign the papers, but part of me suspects he’s not done fighting.”

  “What did he say about the baby?” Grace asked.

  “He already knew.”

  Stephanie’s brows narrowed. “How?”

  “Apparently, he had me followed. He knew all about the hotel, the baby, Owen.”

  “So creepy,” Grace said with a shiver. “I dislike this guy more all the time.”

  “No kidding,” Stephanie said. “What does Owen say about it?”

  “He’s been amazing,” Laura said. “So supportive and understanding. Get this—he asked if he could be my childbirth coach. Can you believe that?”

  “He loves you,” Grace said. “The whole time he was talking to Evan just now he was watching you.”

  “Was he?” Laura asked, smiling.

  “Couldn’t take his eyes off you,” Grace confirmed.

  “He’s. . .” Laura sighed. “I don’t have the words. I just hope Justin signs the papers and sets me free before Owen runs out of patience with the situation.”

  “He’s not going anywhere,” Stephanie assured Laura. “Any man who’d willingly volunteer to witness childbirth must have a big, bad thing for you.”

  “No kidding,” Grace said. “If that’s not a measure of his devotion, I don’t know what is.”

  The baby chose that moment to send a rippling wave across Laura’s stomach. She took that to mean the baby agreed with her friends.

  “So what’s her story?” Dan Torrington asked Grant.

  “Whose story?”

  “Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm over there.” Dan nodded to Kara, who was chatting with Big Mac and Linda.

  “No idea. Hey, Mac,” Grant said to his brother. “Come here.”

  “What’s up?” Mac asked when he joined them.

  “Dan wants the skinny on Kara,” Grant said.

  “I don’t know her all that well except that she’s from Maine and number six in a family of eleven kids.”

  “Eleven?” Grant asked. “Jesus. I thought our family was big.”

  “Imagine twice as many of us plus one,” Mac said with a grin.

  “No, thanks,” Grant said. “I’ve got all I can handle with four siblings.”

  “What’s she doing on Gansett?” Dan asked, his gaze riveted to Kara, who was making Big Mac and Linda laugh with an animated story. For some strange reason, he desperately wanted to hear the story.

  Mac told them about the launch service Kara had proposed for the Salt Pond and the role McCarthy’s Gansett Island Marina would play in the plan.

  “Why didn’t we think of that?” Grant asked.

  “Dad and Luke have talked about it over the years, but that’s as far as it got,” Mac said. “This is even better for us because we get the benefit of increased foot traffic—and possibly new customers for the marina when they see how great our place is—but none of the headaches of running the launch service ourselves. Win-win.”

  While Grant talked business with his brother, Dan continued to watch Kara. She wasn’t even his type. He went for built-like-brick-shithouse blondes, not buttoned down wholesome country girls. She wore Levi jeans, for Pete’s sake. Though they did amazing things to her excellent ass, he couldn’t remember the last woman he’d known who wore plain old Levis.

  It was hard to tell through the bulky sweater if she had anything going on up top, and from what he could gather from a distance, she didn’t wear a lick of makeup on her fresh-faced complexion. She wouldn’t last a day in L.A. For some reason, the thought pleased him.

  “How long is she here?” Dan asked Mac.

  “She’s heading back to Maine on Monday, but she’ll be back in March to get ready for the season.”

  For some strange reason, Dan felt oddly deflated to know she was leaving. Soon.

  “What’re you up to, Torrington?” Grant asked when Mac went to find his wife.

  Startled out of his thoughts, Dan said, “Nothing.”

  “Why’re you staring at her? You’re going to creep her out.”

  “I’m not staring at her.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re interested. You’re way too old for her, and she’s hardly your type.”

  “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing. And yet. . .”

  “What?”

  “There’s something about her. Look at her. She’s pure as the driven snow.”

  “Which is why you need to stay far, far away.”

  Dan rested a hand over his chest. “I’m wounded.”

  “You’ll survive.”

  “Introduce me.”

  “I don’t know her, either,” Grant protested.

  “You know the people she’s talking to, don’t you?”

  Grant rolled his eyes. “I’ve met them once or twice.”

  “Come on then.”

  “Why do I have the sinking feeling I’m going to regret this?”

  “Be a pal, McCarthy. Remember that favor I did for you when your girlfriend’s stepfather was unjustly incarcerated?”

  “How long will I have to pay for that?”

  “I’ll let you know in a decade or two when the debt is repaid. In the meantime. . .” He gave Grant a gentle nudge to get him moving.

  “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” Grant crossed the kitchen to where his parents were talking to Kara. “Having a good time, everyone?”

  “Kara Ballard,” Big Mac said, “this is our idiot second son, Grant, who got engaged and forgot to tell his pa
rents for two days.”

  “I was busy,” Grant said, shaking hands with Kara. Waggling his brows, he added, “Celebrating.”

  Kara’s cheeks went pink at Grant’s mention of celebrating, and Dan became even more intrigued. Pure as the driven snow, and she blushes. Too good to be true.

  “Kara, this is my friend Dan Torrington.”

  “Nice to meet you.” When she met his gaze, he noticed her eyes were brown with flecks of gold. And were those. . . freckles? Her shy smile was right out of a toothpaste ad. Good God, she was too cute for words, and as Grant had said, probably far too young for him.

  “Nice to meet you, too,” Dan said. “I hear you’re in the boat business.”

  “Her family has a big outfit in Bar Harbor,” Big Mac said.

  “What do you do?” Dan asked.

  “Business development mostly, but as of next summer, I’ll be running the launch service in the Salt Pond.”

  Dan would’ve bet his sizable fortune that she’d been the smart girl in school who’d ruined the curve for guys like him. He wondered if she ever let down her ponytail and got a little wild. He’d sure like to know.

  “And you, Mr. Torrington? What do you do?”

  Grant guffawed at the “Mr. Torrington,” earning him a swat and a glare from his mother.

  “Call me Dan, please. I’m a lawyer.”

  “Oh,” Kara said, barely hiding her contempt. “That’s. . . nice.”

  Dan’s face lifted into a half grin as he bit back the instant urge to ask what she had against lawyers.

  “Stephanie is beckoning us,” Grant said to his parents. “I hope I’m not about to hear the words ‘wedding plans’ come out of her mouth.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait to plan another wedding!” Linda said, leading her husband and son into the living room.

  “Fabulous,” Grant muttered as his mother tugged at his arm.

  Dan laughed at his friend’s dismay. “The poor bastard has no idea what he’s in for.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Kara asked.

  Surprised by her tone, Dan chose his words carefully. “Wedding planning isn’t for the faint of heart.”

  “Are you married?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then what do you know about wedding planning?”

  The memories flooded over him in a wave of pain that caught him off guard. How was it possible that it still hurt so badly? “Came close once.”

  “What happened?”

  “Why Ms. Ballard, we’ve just met,” he said with the effortlessly charming smile that had served him well with women his entire life. “I don’t know if I’m ready to start spilling all my secrets.” The instant the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. What he’d intended as teasing had clearly embarrassed her.

  “I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right. It’s none of my business.”

  “Hey, I was only kidding.” He bent his knees to bring himself down to her height. “Seriously, just kidding. The engagement didn’t work out.” His shrug belied the ongoing pain of finding his fiancée riding his best man two days before the wedding. Two losses for the price of one. “It was just one of those things.”

  “Well, it must’ve been a difficult time. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “Shit happens.”

  She became intensely interested in her beer bottle. “Yes, it does,” she said in a world-weary tone that told him she knew all too well what he meant.

  Dan had an urgent need to know what kind of shit had happened to her. Wanting to keep her talking, he gestured to her beer. “Can I get you another?”

  “No, thank you. I’m heading out soon.”

  “Not before you tell me what you have against lawyers.”

  Her startled gaze shot up to meet his. “What makes you think I have anything against lawyers?”

  “The giveaway might’ve been the oh-so-polite ‘that’s nice’ when I said I am one.”

  “I don’t have anything against lawyers. They serve a useful purpose.”

  “Is that so?”

  “You would know better than me. Are you useful?”

  He thought of the three-dozen people who were now walking free thanks to his efforts to overturn unjust convictions. “I’d like to think so.”

  “There you have it.”

  She was absolutely adorable and absolutely wrong for him, but he was absolutely intrigued, nonetheless. “I’d like to take you to dinner tomorrow night.”

  She stared at him as if he’d told her he wanted to take her on a vacation to the moon. “You. . . I. . .”

  “It’s a simple question: Will you go out with me tomorrow night?”

  “I. . .” He could see that she wanted to. How could he miss the flash of longing that crossed her expressive face? With every passing moment, he became more interested. “No, but thank you for asking.”

  “There’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

  “No.”

  Well, didn’t that beat all? Dan couldn’t remember the last time a woman had said no to him. About anything.

  “I have to go now,” she said. “It was nice to meet you.”

  “You, too.”

  She scurried off as if someone had told her the house was on fire. As she said her goodbyes to Mac, Big Mac, Luke and Sydney, Dan once again noticed the fine things those faded Levis did to her sumptuous ass. The second before she went through the door, she glanced into the kitchen to find Dan still watching her intently. The wistfulness he saw on her expressive face had him standing up straighter. For a brief instant, he thought about going after her.

  But he stopped himself before he could act on the impulse. If she wasn’t interested, neither was he.

  “Keep telling yourself that,” he muttered.

  “That didn’t take long,” Grant said when he rejoined Dan in the kitchen.

  “What?”

  “I’ve never seen a woman run away from you so quickly. Are you losing your touch?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. However, it does occur to me that it might be far more interesting to write my book here in the spring than over the winter.”

  Grant eyed him suspiciously. “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing. Yet. . .”

  Tiffany didn’t step onto the back deck because Maddie had suggested Blaine might follow her. No, she needed some fresh air and a moment alone. She’d give everything she had for a cigarette, but she’d given them up a couple of months ago and was sticking to her resolve for Ashleigh’s sake.

  But honestly, if she had to spend one more second surrounded by newly in love couples who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves, she was going to scream. They were all so freaking happy. It made her want to barf. She’d once been exactly like Grace and Stephanie and Laura and Sydney and even Maddie, smug in her conviction that she’d found the love of her life. She’d married Jim when she was twenty and had been so certain their love affair would last a lifetime. But at some point it had all gone wrong, and she still had no idea why.

  She wanted to warn her friends to be careful. She wanted to tell them that sometimes things didn’t work out the way they were supposed to. She wanted to tell them that they could devote their whole heart and soul to a man only to be rebuffed for no good reason.

  However, she doubted any of them would want to hear it. Hell, she hadn’t wanted to hear it, even when it became obvious that her husband had checked out of their marriage. It had taken him moving all the furniture out of their house for her to finally get a clue that it was over between them.

  Deep-seated loneliness pierced through the layer of cynicism and bitterness she hid behind. As much as she wanted to disdain the outbreak of happiness in her circle of friends, she couldn’t deny that she was envious. When would she get her happily ever after? Even her mother was stupid in love with Ned and happier than Tiffany had ever seen her. No one deserved it more after what Francine had endured raising two kids on her own after her husband abandoned the fa
mily, but Tiffany was jealous of her own mother!

  Shaking her head with disgust, she was about to return to the party when a dark shadow fell over her. Tingling awareness had her entire body standing up to take notice. He didn’t have to say a word. She knew who he was by the way her body reacted to his nearness. Her nipples pebbled, and the ache between her legs reminded her of the incendiary incident in her kitchen and the single most amazing orgasm of her life.

  “I’ve thought of you,” he said without preamble. The rough sexy texture of his voice sent shivers dancing down her spine. “A lot.”

  Tiffany cleared her throat and jammed trembling hands into the pockets of her jeans to ensure she wouldn’t do anything stupid like grab him and kiss him. “I’ve thought of you, too.”

  Memories of that night came flooding back—handcuffing herself to Jim in a desperate attempt to get him to talk to her. Her body burned with the mortification of remembering him calling the police and how Blaine responded to find her naked and handcuffed to her husband. Had any plan ever gone so wrong?

  “Are you still married to the douchebag?”

  The question drew an unsteady laugh from her. Jim’s histrionics that night had earned him no favor with Blaine. “Unfortunately, yes. But not for much longer.”

  “Good.”

  Her brain froze on the single gruffly spoken word. “Why is that good?”

  He moved closer, and Tiffany stepped back, encountering the rail that encircled the deck. In the dark, she could barely make out his chiseled features. Her heart pounded with excitement and anticipation and a tiny bit of fear. She barely knew this man and already understood that he had the power to demolish her in a way that Jim never could have.

  Blaine’s work-callused finger landed on her chin and slid down over her neck and throat, leaving a trail of fire between her breasts, and hooking on the waistband of her jeans.

  Tiffany was so startled and aroused she’d all but stopped breathing, until he tugged on her jeans, shocking her out of the stupor.

  “The minute you’re free of him, the very same second it’s final, you’re going to call me.”

  “Oh, I—”

  He brought his face in so close to hers that the hint of his whiskers against her cheek and the mild, masculine scent of his cologne made her tremble madly. “You’re going to call me, and we’re going to pick up where we left off. Are we clear on how this is going to go?”

 

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