Gansett Island Boxed Set, Books 1-16

by Force, Marie

  “It’s about ready. Want to let Janey know?”

  “She’s taking a nap, but I’ll see if I can rouse her.”

  Watching him go, tall, handsome and broad shouldered, Carolina was reminded of her late husband, Pete. Joe’s resemblance to his father used to cause her the occasional pang of sorrow, but now she was grateful for the reminder of the man she’d loved and lost so long ago.

  She was thrilled that everything had worked out so well for Joe and Janey. She’d once been in love the way they were and knew how all-consuming it could be. In the thirty years since she’d lost her darling Pete, there’d only been one man who’d ever turned her head.

  But she couldn’t think about him. She wouldn’t think about him. That was a brief moment of madness, and it was in the past now. Still, telling herself not to think about him and actually not thinking about him were two very different things, as she’d discovered in the months since the moment of madness. And after seeing him the other day, the memories had been sharper and more painful than ever.

  Forcing those thoughts from her mind, she put dinner on the table as Joe led a sleepy-eyed Janey into the kitchen. Carolina was delighted they’d chosen to stay with her—as opposed to the McCarthys’ far more spacious home—until Stephanie’s restaurant opening. After that, Grant and Stephanie would be moving out of Janey’s house and into the home of their own they’d recently bought from Ned Saunders. Having the kids underfoot for a few days would be the highlight of Carolina’s year.

  “Good nap?” she asked her daughter-in-law.

  Janey rested a hand on her protruding belly and let out a huge yawn. “They’re all good naps these days.”

  Joe grinned at his wife. “If you slept any more, I’d never see you.”

  “I know,” she said with a sigh. “I’m such a drag lately.”

  “No, you’re not.” He kissed her forehead and settled her into a chair at the table.

  Janey’s eyes lit up at the sight of chicken and mashed potatoes. “Oh my God, is that stuffing?”

  “You betcha,” Carolina said. “All your husband’s favorites.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Joe said. “It looks so good.”

  “Seriously awesome,” Janey added.

  Carolina was pleased by their enthusiasm for the meal. “Dig in.”

  Over dinner, they talked about island gossip, Janey’s studies, the dogs and their plans to be back in Ohio in plenty of time before the baby’s birth.

  “You’ll come out with my parents when the baby is born, won’t you?” Janey asked.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Carolina assured her.

  “Good. I’ll need all the help I can get. The timing is awful with the semester starting a month after the birth. Very poor family planning on our part.”

  “If I recall correctly, nothing about this baby was planned.”

  “That is so true,” Janey said with a laugh as she scooped a second helping of mashed potatoes onto her plate.

  Carolina noticed that Joe was pushing the food around on his plate and seemed a million miles away. “Everything okay, honey?”

  Joe startled when he realized she was talking to him. “Oh, yeah, sorry.”

  “Where did you go?” Janey asked him.

  “Nowhere. Just thinking about some stuff with the business. Nothing to worry about.”

  “What stuff?” Carolina asked. Even though he did a marvelous job of running the business her parents had left to them both, she liked to keep up with the goings-on.

  Joe shook his head but still seemed troubled. “It’s nothing, really.”

  Carolina raised the same brow she’d used to interrogate him as a teenager. “I know you better than that. My son doesn’t push chicken and mashed potatoes around on his plate. My son wolfs it down like he’s never seen food before.”

  “That is also so true,” Janey said.

  “Spill it,” Carolina said.

  Joe put down his fork and sat back in his chair, the slump of his shoulders another sign of trouble. “Seamus gave me his notice today.”

  An electrical current traveled through Carolina’s body at that news. She stared at Joe as if she hadn’t heard him correctly.

  “Why?” Janey asked, giving voice to the question Carolina would have asked if she could’ve spoken.

  “He said it was a personal matter, and he can’t remain on the island because of it.”

  Carolina couldn’t seem to breathe. It wasn’t because of her. It couldn’t be. Their moment of madness had occurred months ago. He wasn’t leaving because of her. Was he?

  “Mom? What is it? Why are you suddenly pale?”

  “I, ah…”

  Janey looked on with concern. “Are you okay, Carolina?”

  She fought through the shock and dismay, remembering that the primary reason she’d refused to enter into a relationship with Seamus was sitting right in front of her, trying to understand her reaction. “I’m fine. I’m thinking about the business.” Somehow, she managed to form the words even as her brain continued to spin. “And the baby. And everything.”

  “I’ve been going over it and over it all day,” Joe said. “I’ll figure something out.”

  “Isn’t there anyone currently working for the company who could do it?” Janey asked, reaching for his hand.

  “No one comes to mind, but Seamus said he’d help me find someone.”

  “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this, babe,” Janey said. “Seamus has been such a godsend the last two years.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry about it, hon. I’ll work it out.”

  Carolina was stricken by the idea that something she might’ve done—or not done—had caused such a headache for her son. The irony wasn’t lost on her. She’d refused to consider a relationship with Seamus mostly because she feared Joe wouldn’t approve of his mother being with a man only two years older than him. And now, if Seamus was leaving because of her, she’d ended up causing an entirely new problem for Joe.

  She had to know. As soon as the kids went to bed, she’d go ask him, and if he was leaving because of her, she’d do her best to talk him out of it.

  Sometimes Blaine hated being police chief. This was one of those times. His phone was ringing, and he was going to have to disentangle himself from Tiffany to answer it. He answered every call, no matter what time of day. Such was the life of a small-town police chief.

  Tiffany didn’t stir as he gently shifted her off him so he could get up.

  He took the phone into the hallway, shut the bedroom door and answered it without checking the caller ID. “Taylor.”

  “Blaine.”

  He held back a groan when he heard his mother’s voice. “Mom? Do you know what time it is?”

  “What’re you doing?”

  “Right now?” He honestly didn’t think she’d want to know.

  “Who are you buying furniture for?”

  Cursing the island gossip machine, Blaine leaned against the wall and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Isn’t it? Is history repeating itself?”

  “Absolutely not. This is nothing like that.” Tiffany bore no resemblance to the women who’d used him and left him broken.

  “Blaine…”

  “I’m not having this conversation. I’m a grown man, and I know what I’m doing.”

  Her sigh spoke for her.

  “I’ve got to go.”

  “Are you with her now?”

  “Mom…”

  “I can’t bear to watch it happen again.”

  “I have to go.”

  “I want to see you tomorrow. I’ll be home all day.”

  “I’ve got to work.”

  “Stop by here.”

  Before he could say another word, the line went dead. “Ugh.” He resisted the urge to throw the phone against the wall. Rather, he took a couple of deep breaths to get himself together and returned to the bedroom.

  “Every
thing okay?” Tiffany asked.

  “Everything’s fine. Sorry if I woke you.”

  The room was dark, so she couldn’t see him reach for his pants on the floor.

  “Are you leaving?”

  “I thought I might go home.”

  “Why?”

  The single word went straight to his heart. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached for her hand. “I didn’t think you’d want me here when Ashleigh wakes up.”

  She gave his hand a little tug. “That’s hours from now.”

  Even though she couldn’t see it, he smiled. She made him happy. She made him feel lighter and less burdened than he’d felt in years. She made him want things he’d long ago convinced himself he’d never have. He slid back into bed and was astounded by the rush of emotion that seized him when she wrapped her warm, supple body around him. The surge of lust he was getting used to, but the emotion… That was new and not entirely unwelcome.

  He put his arms around her and kissed her forehead, enjoying the quiet, the peace, the sensation of falling. Not that long ago, the falling sensation would’ve had him running for his life from the cause. Now he couldn’t imagine not wanting to be with her, couldn’t imagine not wanting to hold her this way or sleep next to her or make love with her.

  “What’re you thinking about?” she asked, her hand caressing his chest and belly.

  “You.”

  Her hand stopped moving. “Oh.”

  “All good stuff.” He’d tightened his hold on her, which is how he could feel her relax. The poor thing had become far too accustomed to bad news from the man in her life. She’d stopped hoping for anything good to happen.

  He turned on his side to face her. “I want you to meet my mom.” The words popped out of his mouth before he took a moment to consider the implications. As he waited breathlessly to hear what she’d have to say, his heart pounded, and it became very, very clear to him that his feelings for her had the potential to change his life.

  “You do?” she asked in a squeaky voice that was nothing like her regular, confident tone.

  “Yes, I do.” He ran his hand from her shoulder to her back and below to cup her bottom and tug her in closer to him.

  “What if she doesn’t like me?”

  “Why wouldn’t she like you?”

  “I’m a divorced single mom who runs a sex-toy shop. Hardly the ‘bring-home-to-Mom’ kinda girl.”

  “You’re a big improvement over the other girls I’ve brought home to meet her. Trust me on that.”

  “Are you going to tell me what happened with those other women?”

  “I’d rather not. It’s ancient history and has nothing to do with who I am now. It has nothing to do with us.”

  His refusal to speak of his past only made her more curious about the women who’d hurt him. The hand that had been moving so softly and sensuously over his chest stopped when it landed on his heart. “Are you over them?”

  “So over them it’s not even funny.” He buried his hand in her hair and tugged gently to tilt her face to receive his kiss. “How about you? Over him?”

  “Definitely.”

  “What went wrong between you guys?”

  “Damned if I know. One minute, everything was fine, and seemingly the next minute, it wasn’t. I never have gotten him to tell me what changed for him.”

  “That must’ve been painful for you.”

  “It was at the time, but not so much anymore. I’ve accepted it. He stopped loving me. Big whoop. It happens.”

  “You’re awfully matter-of-fact about it.”

  She shrugged. “I know how guys can be. I learned that lesson early on.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My dad left when I was three. I didn’t see him again until a year or so ago.”

  “Wow, that must’ve been weird.”

  “I guess.”

  “What did he say? What did you say?”

  “I don’t remember. I was so shocked to realize I was looking at the father I had no memory of, that my mind went totally blank.”

  “I can’t imagine how that must’ve felt for you. He showed up totally out of the blue?”

  She nodded. “My mom had contacted his sister about getting in touch with him.”

  “How come?”

  “Apparently, they never got divorced. Now she wants to marry Ned, so…”

  “Are they getting divorced?”

  “Not yet. He’s being a jerk about it. He wanted to spend time with me and Maddie before he’d agree to a divorce.”

  “For real? He leaves you, what? Almost thirty years ago? And now he wants a family reunion?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Did you do it? Did you see him?”

  “I spent an awkward hour with him for my mom. She deserves a chance to be happy.”

  “So do you.” He punctuated the words with kisses to her face and lips. “You deserve to be happy.”

  “Ashleigh makes me happy every day, and Thomas, and the rest of my family.”

  “That’s not the kind of happy I mean.” As he spoke, he turned them so he was on top of her. He tipped his head and took her mouth in a fiercely possessive kiss.

  “What kind of happy do you mean?”

  He felt her coy smile against his lips. “This kind of happy.” Entering her in one swift flex of his hips, he stopped suddenly when she winced. “Oh God, sorry. Are you sore?”

  “A little.”

  When he would’ve withdrawn from her, she stopped him. “It’s okay. Just give me a minute.”

  “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She curled her arms around his neck and brought him down to her for more of the amazing kisses he’d come to expect from her. The sense of connection was profound as he moved within her as their tongues tangled in a sweet, sensual dance. Her breasts pressing against his chest and the clutch of her internal muscles made him a little crazy, but he held back, waiting for her.

  With a moan, she broke the kiss and squirmed under him. “Blaine…”

  “Tell me.”

  “I need…”

  “What do you need?”

  She clutched his back. “You. I need you.”

  When she said those words, his slow fall became a rapid plummet as he gave her what they both wanted. He drove them higher, higher than he’d ever been with anyone, before the dam broke and flooded him with an intense desire to make her happy, to never disappoint her the way she’d been disappointed in the past, to protect her and her daughter, to keep her close. Always.

  Jesus, he thought. Where did all that come from?

  Drifting back down from the incredible high, he realized she was crying. “What, baby? Did I hurt you?”

  “No. No.” Her hands on his backside kept him firmly embedded within her.

  “Then what is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. For the first time in longer than I can remember, nothing is wrong.”

  “Aww, Tiffany. You’re so sweet.”

  “Thank you. Not just for this.” She squeezed his ass and got his motor running all over again. “But for making me see that it’s possible to be happy again. Even if this doesn’t go anywhere, it’s made me happy.”

  “Good,” he said with a kiss. “That makes me happy, too.”

  Her hands moved up his back in a caress that made him shiver. Then her fingers were combing through his hair, and he was overcome with yet another emotion that took him by surprise—contentment.

  “You’ll be tired tomorrow,” she said.

  “And you won’t?”

  “I’m much younger than you are.”

  Laughing, he took a nibble of her neck to pay her back for the insult. He couldn’t believe he was already raring to go again after coming harder than he ever had in his life. Just when he was about to do something with that lovely erection, the baby monitor on the bedside table crackled to life.

  They stilled to listen.

  “Mommy.” The
single word was faint but clear.

  Blaine withdrew from her, and she scrambled out of bed. He heard her rustling around in the closet, probably grabbing a robe, and then she shot out of the room. He fell back against the pillows, wondering if maybe he should get the heck out of there before her daughter caught him naked in her mother’s bed. The internal debate raged on for another minute before he heard the distinctive sound of vomiting.

  Tiffany saw her daughter through two rounds of vomiting before the little girl fell asleep in her arms. She was burning up with a fever, too. Tiffany sat in the rocking chair in Ashleigh’s room, rocking her gently until she was sure Ashleigh was fully asleep. She got up slowly and transferred her to the bed.

  “Is she okay?” Blaine whispered from the doorway.

  In the glow of the nightlight, she could see that he’d pulled on his pants, but his chest was still bare and his hair adorably mussed.

  “She is now, but she’s got a fever.”

  “That came on suddenly.”

  “Usually does.”

  “Anything I can do for you?”

  Tiffany shook her head. “I think she’s okay now.” She left the door open so she could hear Ashleigh if she was sick again.

  When they were back in Tiffany’s room, Blaine put his arms around her. “How about you? Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She snuggled into his embrace, comforted by his presence. “Goes with the territory.”

  “You’re a good mom, and she’s lucky to have you.”

  “Thank you,” she said, arching into him. Apparently, she couldn’t be this close to him and not want him.

  His lips were soft against her neck when he said, “Lie on the bed.”

  Startled by the sudden command, she did as he directed and watched him kneel on the bed between her legs.

  “I never get tired of seeing you like this.” He bent to run his tongue over the sensitive skin he’d shaved earlier.

  Tiffany couldn’t believe how easily he took her mind off her sick child.

  He continued to lick and tease until she was on the verge of yet another orgasm. When he drew her clitoris between his lips, he made her forget everything but the astonishing pleasure.

  “I don’t know how you did that,” she said, still panting many minutes later.

  “Did what?”