by Force, Marie
“It’s too much,” she said, shaking her head as tears spilled down her face.
“It’s just enough, honey.” He cupped her cheeks and swept up the tears with his thumbs. “How lucky are we? How blessed?”
“I’ll tell you one thing, mister, you’d better get all the sex you can while I’m pregnant, because after these two are born, I’m never going near you again if you can get me pregnant this easily—and two of them to boot!”
Laughing, Owen dragged her up and tossed an arm around her. “Yes, you will. You can’t resist me.”
Because she couldn’t exactly deny that, she elbowed his ribs. “Watch me.” A new thought made her nauseated again. “Oh my God, what’ll I tell my dad?”
“Tell him he’s going to be a grandpa again, just a little sooner than we’d planned.”
“Since this is all your fault, why don’t you tell him?”
He made a distressed face that made her laugh. “Do I hafta?”
“I’d say that’s the least you can do after you knocked me up so thoroughly.”
Puffing out his chest, he said, “I did do a pretty good job, didn’t I?”
Even though she was amused by his pleasure in the earth-shattering news, she couldn’t let him see that, so she scowled at him. After this extremely unexpected development, she figured she had the right to be a bit grouchy until she wrapped her head around it.
At the car, he turned her to face him and eased her back against the sun-warmed metal. “I’ll be glad to tell your dad this awesome news,” he said, nuzzling her neck, “and I’ll make sure to tell him again how very much I love his beautiful daughter who has made me so happy. So damned happy.”
“Keep talking,” she said, bending her neck to give him better access. “Maybe I’ll forgive you before the wedding.”
Chuckling, he held the passenger door for her. “Let’s go tell our little boy that he’s going to be a big brother.”
Laura was glad—and relieved—that Owen was so excited about the new babies. But all she could think about was nine months of nausea, three babies in one year and a hotel to run. It might take her a while to match his excitement, but she’d get there. Eventually. Or at least she hoped so.
Abby showered, blow-dried her hair and treated the site of the tattoo with antibiotic ointment. She bent and twisted to get a look at it in the mirror, frustrated all over again with herself for taking the safe route with a small tattoo on her back that no one would see unless she wanted them to.
“You’re doing a heck of a job shaking things up, girlfriend,” she whispered to her reflection. “You’re doing a hell of a job, I should say.” She shook her head in disgust. “You’re such a bad ass. Unable to hold your liquor, unable to swear respectably, unable to get a tattoo that people will actually see, unable to get off during sex. No wonder things didn’t work out with Grant or Cal. I bore myself. Why wouldn’t they be bored, too?”
She was sick to death of wanting to be different. She was fed up with wishing for something else but not knowing how to make it happen. She’d thought she found what she wanted with Cal, but that hadn’t worked either. And now here she was, right back where she started with nothing much to show for the last ten years of her life.
“Well, that’s not entirely true,” she said, thinking of the nest egg she still had from Abby’s Attic. Thinking about her adorable little store made her heart ache even more over what she’d given up for a man, so she chose not to go there. Rather, she relived the kiss on the beach with Adam for probably the hundredth time since it happened an hour ago.
That was some kiss. It was unlike any kiss she’d ever had. Maybe it was because they’d been on the beach, outside where anyone might see them, that it had been more exciting than other kisses. Maybe it was the slightly scandalous notion of taking up with her ex-boyfriend’s brother that had set her hormones abuzz.
No, she thought. It wasn’t any of those things. It had been Adam and the way he’d looked at her as if she was something—or someone—special to him. While they’d always been friendly after knowing each other all their lives, something different had clicked between them on the ferry ride home the other day. Sitting behind him on the motorcycle had been thrilling. Walking the beach with him had been thrilling. Kissing him had been incredibly thrilling.
She ran her fingers over her lips and couldn’t wait to kiss him again. Maybe later when he came over… For a brief instant, she wondered what Grant would have to say about Adam dating his ex. Would Grant’s objections put a damper on whatever was happening between her and Adam? They’d better not, or she’d be having some words with Grant McCarthy. After his years of indifference toward her, he had absolutely no right to interfere with anything she did, even if she did it with his brother—a thought that made her laugh nervously.
Doing it with Adam McCarthy was something she’d never even considered before yesterday, and now it was all she could think about. Grant had better not get in the way of what was turning out to be the most fun she’d had with a guy in ages… Since she first got together with Cal, back when things had still been fun between them rather than strained.
Even though Adam had been awesome about helping her to bust out of her shell, Abby was well aware that he couldn’t do it for her. She had to do it herself, or it wouldn’t mean as much.
Before she could spend any more time thinking, she grabbed her purse and phone and headed for the door. Not wanting to lose her nerve, she kept her head down as she walked through town. On the way, she passed Tiffany’s new store, Naughty & Nice, housed in the former home of Abby’s Attic. She experienced a profound wave of regret at seeing another store where hers had done so well. However, she loved Tiffany and wished her all the best with her new store.
“Abby?”
Speaking of Tiffany, she approached Abby on the sidewalk, holding a coffee in one hand and a bank deposit pouch tucked under her other arm. As always, Tiffany looked stylish and amazing in an eye-popping orange print dress that made Abby feel like a dowdy frump next to her.
“I thought that was you! I didn’t hear you were home.”
Abby gave her a quick hug. “The store looks great, Tiffany. I hear you’ve made a tremendous success of it.”
“After a few bumpy weeks, it seems to be catching on.”
“Congratulations. I never had a doubt that you’d be great at it.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. I was filled with doubts. So how’s Cal?”
“That’s…um…over.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I hadn’t heard that either.”
Abby shrugged off the pain and disappointment. It’d been over months ago, if she were being truthful, so every day seemed to get a little easier.
“Do you have time to come in and take a look at the store?”
Even though she was anxious to get to the tattoo place, she was curious about what had become of her store. “I’d love to.”
Abby followed Tiffany into a space that in no way resembled Abby’s Attic. Where her store had been sweetness personified, Tiffany’s was all about sex—and in some cases, raunchy sex. Abby’s senses were overwhelmed by the scents, the textures, the sheer volume of choices. “It’s incredible, Tiff. Truly.”
“You really think so?”
“I do. I love it.” Abby didn’t say what she really thought—that the store brought home all the many ways she felt inadequate as a woman. She’d have no idea where to begin among the many choices Tiffany had provided for her customers. She was lost in a sea of femininity.
“Why do you look so sad?”
Startled by Tiffany’s astute assessment, Abby forced herself to make eye contact with the other woman. “I feel out of my league in here.”
“How so?”
Abby ran her fingers over a lacy garter belt and nodded. “I’ve never been one for sexing things up.”
“Well, isn’t that too bad? A body like yours ought to be shown off.”
Abby uttered a most unladylike snort of laughter
. “Sure.”
“You don’t think so?” Tiffany put down her coffee and came over to open one of the oversized dressing rooms. She gestured for Abby to step inside. “Face the mirror.”
Abby did as directed and tried to look anywhere but at herself, anywhere but at the woman who so desperately wanted to be different but didn’t know where to begin.
“Is it okay if I get personal?”
“Ah, sure. I guess so.”
Tiffany unbuttoned Abby’s blouse and pushed it off her shoulders, revealing the utilitarian white bra that Abby had worn since she was old enough to wear bras. “Hmm,” Tiffany said. “Nice tattoo. Just got it?”
“Today.”
“Good for you. I’m guessing a D cup?”
Abby’s face flushed with color. She’d always been sensitive about breasts that had gotten too big too fast when she was a teenager. “Yes.”
“Stay put. I’ll be right back.”
Over the next thirty minutes, Tiffany Sturgil changed Abby Callahan’s entire perspective about lingerie and how important it could be to feeling sexy. Once she got a load of what her too-big breasts looked like in a lacy midnight-blue bra, it hadn’t taken much encouragement for Tiffany to talk her into enough underwear for two weeks’ worth of sexy, not to mention several new dresses designed to show off her assets.
“You’re going to need a thong for that dress,” Tiffany said, taking a close look at Abby’s posterior in a slinky black number that hugged her curves. All thoughts of shyness had disappeared the first time she bared her breasts to try on the bra that Tiffany insisted would do wonders for her cleavage. She’d been right about that and about every other choice she’d made for Abby.
“I’ve never worn a thong before. I can’t get past the feeling of having a nonstop wedgie.”
Tiffany laughed. “I hear that all the time from first-timers, but trust me, once you go thong, you never go back.” She held up a scrap of midnight-blue lace, dangling it in front of Abby like a metaphor for the life she wanted so badly but hadn’t known how to find.
Abby took hold of it, stepped into the dressing room and closed the door, not wanting Tiffany to see the basic cotton panties that matched her equally boring bra. She slid the thong into position, grimacing at the sensation of having fabric wedged where it didn’t belong. “How long does it take before you don’t notice that you’ve got something jammed up there?”
“A couple of days max.”
“If you say so.”
“Check out what it does for the dress,” Tiffany said.
Abby turned, putting her back end to the mirror and looking over her shoulder. She had to admit the dress flowed better with the thong than it had without it. “Okay. I’m sold.”
“Well, you kinda had to take the thong either way after you tried it on.”
The dry comment made Abby laugh. She opened the door to share the laugh with Tiffany. “You’re too much.”
“I hear that almost every day.”
“You’re also crazy good at this.” Abby hugged Tiffany. “Ring it up. I’ll take it all. Thank you so much. This was exactly what I needed.”
“My pleasure. You’ve done wonders for my coffers today.”
“And you’ve done wonders for my self-confidence.”
“You’re a beautiful woman, Abby. Any guy would be lucky to spend time with you. Don’t let a few setbacks keep you from taking new chances. I’m living proof that even the most unhappy person can find true love and happiness.”
“Are we talking about Blaine?”
Tiffany smiled and nodded.
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that! The last time you and I were together right in this store, he came in, and the two of you nearly burned the place down just by looking at each other.”
The soft look of love on Tiffany’s face told the full story. “He’s amazing and everything I never thought I’d have.”
“I’m so happy for you. You deserve it.”
“So do you. It’s going to happen for you, too. I know it will.”
Abby wanted so badly to believe Tiffany, but she’d learned to be pragmatic about these things. Some people didn’t meet the person they were meant to spend forever with and were just fine on their own. If that happened to her, she’d find a way to make a worthwhile life for herself. But the time she’d spent with Tiffany had filled her with a new sense of optimism. Maybe, just maybe there might still be hope for her and romance after all.
Tiffany offered to have her assistant, Patty, run Abby’s purchases back to the Beachcomber for her.
“That’d be great. I’ve got another stop to make while I’m out.”
“Go on ahead, and come back soon, okay?”
“I will. Thanks again, Tiffany.”
“My pleasure.”
Trying to ignore the unnatural feel of the thong between her cheeks, Abby hustled through town, arriving at the tattoo studio ten minutes later.
“Back again so soon?” Duke asked when she walked in. He was sitting in one of the chairs, reading the latest issue of the Gansett Gazette. “Everything all right with your ink?”
“I want another one.”
Duke glanced at Jeff and then at Abby. “You sure about that?”
Abby’s heart pounded as she nodded. She walked over to the book she’d looked through earlier when she’d been seeking something safe. At the time, another design had called to her, but she’d dismissed it as too much. “This one,” she said when she found it. “On my ankle.” The dark purple morning glory came with a winding vine that would curl twice around the back of her leg.
Duke came over to look at what she’d chosen. “That’ll take a couple of hours.”
“I’ve got the time if you do,” she said, feeling defiant and elated.
“Right this way, madam.”
Abby all but skipped to the chair, delighted with herself and her decision to do something unexpected. “Do you mind if I make a few calls while you’re working?”
“As long as you hold still, have at it.”
She pulled a notebook from her purse and prepared to spend the time reconnecting with the former suppliers she’d worked with at Abby’s Attic. Laura had given her carte blanche to set up the gift shop at the Sand & Surf any way she saw fit, and it was time to get to work.
Chapter 12
Three hours later, Abby emerged from the tattoo parlor, sore but still elated. Because of the location, this one had hurt a lot more than the other one, but she had no regrets. It was gorgeous! Purple was her favorite color, and the flower had come out magnificently.
She checked the messages on her phone—again. She’d expected to hear from Adam by now, but he hadn’t called or texted. The sun had set during her hours in the chair, and the first stars twinkled in the night sky. Without much thought to her destination, she walked in the opposite direction of the hotel, drawn to the beach where placid water rolled gently onto the sand.
Abby kicked off her shoes and waded into the water, gasping at the first contact of cool water on inflamed skin. Her mother had always extolled the healing properties of salt water, so Abby kept her lower leg in the water. A half-moon sat just above the horizon, where the hulking outline of a ship was visible in the waning daylight.
The beach was completely deserted. Anywhere else, Abby might feel anxious about being there alone. But this was Gansett Island, and she’d never felt anything but safe here. That sense of safety sparked a reckless desire for yet another new experience. She waited until twilight faded and darkness set in before she walked up to the cooling sand and tucked her phone into her purse and set it on her sandals.
Before she could lose her nerve, she quickly added her denim jacket, T-shirt and jeans to the growing pile. Down to her new underwear, she hesitated. That was close enough, right?
“No, it isn’t. If you’re going to do this, do it right.” Her hands trembled with excitement and fear of being caught as she unclipped her bra and slid off the thong, nearly groaning with the rel
ief of tugging it from where it didn’t belong. Standing completely naked in the great outdoors for the first time, she extended her arms and spun around, overcome by the sheer naughty joy of doing something so far outside her comfort zone. As she dashed into the cold water, she let out a squeal of delight, even as her mother’s voice in her head warned against ever swimming alone.
Growing up on an island, the litany of dangers had been hammered home from a young age. Perhaps that was why she’d never taken any chances. Perhaps that was why she was just now, at the age of thirty-two, first experiencing the sublime delight of swimming naked. And it was sublime and delightful. The sluice of the cool water over her skin sent shock waves to all her most sensitive areas. Her nipples tightened from the cold as much as the excitement of doing something new.
She stayed close to the shore in waist-deep water, floating on her back as the half-moon worked its way higher in the sky, casting a glow over the water. A million stars dotted the night sky, and she picked out some of her favorite constellations. As she floated in peaceful serenity, she couldn’t help but wonder why she’d never done this before. She already couldn’t wait to do it again.
Adam couldn’t figure out where Abby might be. He’d told her he’d be by to see her after dinner with Joe and Janey, but here it was almost eight, and there was no sign of her at the Beachcomber. He tried her cell phone again, but, like the last three times he’d called her, it went straight to voice mail.
When he thought about where he’d found her the night before, his gut clenched at the idea that she might’ve gone looking for trouble without him. Why did that thought make him so damned mad? They had a deal, after all. She’d agreed to let him be her partner in crime, so if she was out looking for some other guy to fool around with…
Storming through the Beachcomber lobby, he stopped short when he realized he was jealous. How ridiculous was that? He was jealous of some nameless, faceless guy that she might or might not be messing around with. What business was it of his? If she wanted to call off their deal, that was her prerogative, but damn it, she ought to at least tell him.