Gansett Island Boxed Set, Books 1-16

by Force, Marie

  She wanted to say no, but after more than a year together, she owed him some closure at the very least. “Okay…”

  “Why’d you leave without talking to me?” he asked in a soft tone that tugged at her emotions. “Didn’t I at least deserve the chance to ask you not to go?”

  “I was afraid you’d talk me out of leaving, and it was what I needed to do.”

  “You’re giving up on us too easily.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not. I fought long and hard to make this work, but I couldn’t do it by myself anymore. I’ve already been through that once before, and I couldn’t do it again. I’m sorry.”

  “You know I hate when you compare me to Grant McCarthy.”

  “I know.” She refused to apologize for the apt comparison to what had happened between her and Grant.

  He reached for her hand. “I admit I didn’t handle things well in Texas. I spent more time than I should have with my mom—”

  “That wasn’t the problem, Cal. That’s not what this is about.”

  Releasing her hand, he rolled his eyes in frustration. “What do you want me to say? I’ve known Candy all my life. We’re friends the way you are with the McCarthys. That was over a long time ago.”

  “I stand by my belief that you have unresolved feelings for her.”

  “How do I convince you otherwise?”

  “You can’t.”

  He shook his head in what seemed to be astonishment. “This is insane. You know that, don’t you? I’m right here, Abby. I’m here with you. I’m telling you I love you, and you don’t believe me? Why would I be here if I didn’t love you? Why would I have come all this way if you weren’t the one I want?”

  The pain she heard in his voice had her doubting everything, which was what she’d gone out of her way to avoid before leaving Texas. Then she thought of Candy, of all the times she’d seen her and Cal together and how often she’d seen the truth of their relationship, even if he couldn’t see it.

  “I’m sorry you came all this way, but I’ve made my decision, and I intend to honor it.”

  “You’re throwing away a good thing.”

  “It wasn’t a good thing for me. I’m sorry if it hurts you to hear that.”

  He stared at her for a long moment before he got up and walked away. That was when she noticed her hands were shaking. So much for self-confidence.

  Adam spent an excruciating fifteen minutes alone with his parents waiting to see if Abby would come back. A staggering array of unsettling possibilities passed through his overactive imagination. All the while he attempted to make small talk with his mind occupied elsewhere.

  What if Cal convinced her to give him another chance? And why did that possibility make Adam ache? What the hell was wrong with him? Until a few days ago, he’d barely given Abby a thought since she broke up with his brother. Now she was all he could think about? What was up with that? How did that happen so fast, and what was it about her that was so damned attractive to him?

  Everything, if he were being honest. She was a beautiful woman on the inside as well as the outside. It pained him to watch her trying to turn herself into someone new when there wasn’t anything wrong with who she already was. He liked that she was sweet and sensitive and maybe a tiny bit naïve when it came to sex. He found her extremely refreshing after being with sleek, sophisticated Sasha the last few years. How could he have thought that was what he wanted in a woman? Now he knew better.

  “Adam?”

  He looked up to find his parents watching him expectantly. Crap. “Yeah?”

  “Did you hear what your mother said?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t.”

  “I said that it seems to me that you like Abby a lot more than you let on,” Linda said, intuitive as always. They didn’t call her Voodoo Mama for nothing.

  His first impulse was to deny it. That would be the easier path, the path less fraught with peril. “Maybe,” he said, bracing himself for the onslaught of parental disapproval.

  “She seems to like you, too,” Big Mac said.

  “Maybe.”

  “Are you worried about what might be happening with Cal?” his dad asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “Honestly, Adam!” his mother said. “Is that the only word you’ve got?”

  “Perhaps.”

  His dad let go with a low, rumbling chuckle that drew a smile from Adam. “You’ve always been the toughest of our five nuts to crack,” Big Mac said.

  “Thank you. I think.”

  Big Mac rested his elbows on the table. “I only mean that you’ve kept to yourself more than your siblings did.”

  “Middle-child syndrome,” Linda added.

  Adam chewed on the end of a plastic stirrer. “Is that your official diagnosis, Mom?”

  “Perhaps,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

  Adam laughed. How could he not? He adored them, even if he didn’t feel the need to tell them everything.

  “You know we’re on your side, son,” Big Mac said. “Even if we don’t agree with everything you do, we’re always on your side.”

  That’s all it took to put a lump in Adam’s throat. “I know that, Dad, and it means a lot to me. It’s always been important to me that I make you proud. Both of you.”

  “There’s never been a single day when we weren’t proud of you,” Big Mac assured him.

  His dad was so free with his love that sometimes it overwhelmed Adam to be on the receiving end of it. “I’m not about to do anything to change that track record. I promise you that.”

  “Here she comes,” Linda whispered—loudly.

  Adam turned to watch her come toward them. The impact of that dress was no less powerful the second time around. He zeroed in on her face, looking for clues to what might’ve happened with Cal, but she kept her expression neutral, giving nothing away.

  He stood to hold her chair for her and waited until she was settled before he took his own seat. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes,” she said, smiling at him. “I’m sorry for the interruption.”

  Adam wanted the full story, and he wanted it now. “Are you…”

  Abby reached for his hand under the table. “Later.”

  At the feel of her fingers closing around his, Adam felt like he could breathe again. Why did it matter so much to him that she’d come back? Why did it mean everything to him that she’d reached for his hand and held on, even though his parents were watching their every move? This situation was getting out of control, he decided as he disentangled his hand from hers. Time to take a small step back, out of self-preservation.

  Her puzzled glance made him feel like a jerk.

  Big Mac made a production out of stretching and yawning. “I’m zonked, honey. Time to take me home and put me to bed.”

  “Honestly, Dad. Do you have to put it that way?”

  “How else should I put it?” Big Mac asked with a mischievous grin.

  Adam and his dad lunged for the check that Chelsea had left on the table. His dad beat him to it.

  “My treat,” Big Mac said smugly.

  He knew better than to argue with his generous father. “Thank you, Dad.”

  “Yes, thank you, Mr. McCarthy. It was so nice to see you both.”

  “You, too, honey,” Linda said, kissing Adam and then Abby. “Come to dinner sometime soon.”

  “I’d love to.”

  Big Mac mussed Adam’s hair and kissed Abby. “Don’t stay out too late, kids.”

  “Bye, Dad.” Adam was grateful his parents hadn’t asked what time he’d be home. He didn’t want to have to tell them in front of Abby that he’d see them tomorrow. When they were gone, Adam turned to Abby, thrilled to finally be alone with her. To hell with self-preservation, he thought as he took her hand. “What happened?”

  “He said all the usual things—he loves me, wants to marry me, is sorry about what happened in Texas.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”
/>   Adam wanted to scream with frustration. “What did you say?”

  “What do you think I said? That it didn’t matter anymore. We’re over.”

  Relief flooded his veins, making him feel a bit lightheaded. Bringing their joined hands to his lips, he kissed the back of hers while holding her gaze. Had he ever noticed how extravagantly long her lashes were? Or how sparkly her brown eyes could be when she was pleased with herself?

  She tipped her head for a closer look at him. “Were you worried?”

  Why was it that so much seemed to hinge on his answer? “Very.”

  Her smile lit up her face and had him zeroing in on her lips as all sorts of erotic images spiraled through his brain, one right after the other.

  “Can we please get out of here?” he asked.

  “Where would you like to go?”

  “Upstairs.”

  She looked at him for a long time, as if making an important decision. “Come on, then.”

  Adam didn’t have to be told twice. He was up and out of his chair so fast, it tipped over behind him, making her laugh at him. After he righted the chair, he hustled out of the bar in hot pursuit.

  “Go get her, dude,” their buddy from last night said, raising his beer in tribute to Adam.

  He choked back a nasty retort and dashed into the lobby, thrilled to see it deserted for once. Even the front desk was devoid of people, which was rare. That was a lucky break. No one would see him follow Abby upstairs.

  She was nearly to the first landing when he caught up to her. “What did your parents say when Cal showed up?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  She cast a glance at him over her shoulder. “Not one thing?”

  He urged her to keep moving. “I don’t remember, and I don’t want to talk about my parents.”

  “They didn’t say anything about us being together?”

  “That’s talking about my parents, which we aren’t doing.”

  “Adam!”

  “What?” He was so completely fixated on her legs as he followed her that he nearly crashed into her when she stopped and turned to face him. “What’s that on your leg?”

  She smiled and lifted her leg so he could see the new tattoo.

  “You went back.”

  “And got one where people could see it.”

  She was so proud of herself that he couldn’t help but smile at her. “Good for you. It’s gorgeous.”

  “Thank you. I think so, too, but I want to know what your parents said about us being together.”

  Adam let out a tortured groan. “Can’t we please go to your room and talk about it?”

  “Fine, but we are going to talk about it.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  Outside her door, he watched as she once again withdrew her room card from her bra. “What else you got in there?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she asked as she opened the door and went in ahead of him.

  The door clicked shut behind him. “Yes, I would.”

  “Talk first.”

  He spoke as quickly as he ever had in his life, like a spokesperson on speed. “They were surprised to see us together. They mentioned Grant and how he might feel about it. I assured them that I talked to him about it—”

  “What did he say?”

  “He was primarily concerned with me doing something to hurt you. He said you’ve had enough of that.”

  “That’s certainly true. So, he didn’t seem at all, you know…”

  He took a step that brought him closer to her in the small room. “Jealous? Angry? Disappointed in me or you?”

  “Any of the above?”

  He spoke normally now, because the time for fooling around was over. “All of the above. But as I pointed out to him—and to my parents—he had his chance with you and totally blew it. He’d tell you that himself. He’s also very happy with Stephanie and doesn’t have a leg to stand on where you and I are concerned, and he also knows that.”

  “Still…” Her hands landed on his chest in an almost absent gesture that tripped all his circuits. “He wasn’t mad at you, was he?”

  “Maybe a little. At first. Once he has a chance to get used to the idea, I’m sure he’ll be fine with it. He loves us both, right?”

  “I suppose.” She looked up at him with those guileless brown eyes. “So your brother knows, your parents know, Cal knows that we’re really done. Where does all that leave us?”

  Because he couldn’t live another second without touching her, he put his arms around her and drew her in closer to him.

  Her hands slid up his chest to link behind his neck.

  Bending his head, he kissed from her throat to her ear, drawing the lobe between his teeth. “It leaves us alone together in a hotel room with only this astonishing red dress between us.”

  She let out a nervous laugh. “That’s not the only thing,” she said, tugging on his shirt for emphasis.

  “It’s the only thing coming off tonight.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means,” he said, kissing her lightly as he drew her zipper down her back, “tonight is all about me finding out what you like, what makes you sigh, what makes you scream.”

  “I don’t scream.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “Adam…”

  “Shhhh. We have all night. I have nowhere to be and nothing on my mind except you.”

  “Nothing?” she asked with a coy smile.

  “Not one thing.”

  “And there’s nothing in this for you?”

  With a light brush of his fingers over her shoulders, he sent the dress into a puddle at her feet. His mouth went dry at the sight of the black bra and scrap of panties she’d worn under it. “Not this time. This time is all about you. Leave everything to me.”

  Chapter 14

  For the first time in several days, David had no patients spending the night at the clinic. The worst of the stomach flu seemed to be over, thank goodness. It had been quite a siege, the worst he’d experienced since taking over the island’s medical practice from Cal Maitland.

  Even though every muscle in his body ached from days of nonstop work, he wasn’t tired and had no desire to go home alone. Hearing about Laura McCarthy’s unplanned pregnancy had reminded David once again of where he should’ve been in his own life—married to Laura’s cousin Janey with a child on the way.

  Except Janey was married to Joe Cantrell and expecting his baby, not David’s. Lately, David had realized he was tired of thinking about Janey and all the ways he’d screwed things up with her. He was tired of dwelling on what should’ve been and ready to focus on the future.

  And more and more, he found himself thinking of Daisy. He wasn’t sure he was ready for another full-blown relationship, but maybe it was time to start dating again. Nowhere was it written that a date had to lead to forever. So if he asked Daisy to dinner—a real dinner at a restaurant—it didn’t mean he was making promises to her that he might not be able to keep, did it?

  She’d been so nice to him at a time when her own life was in disarray. If he took her to dinner to say thank you, he wouldn’t be starting something he couldn’t finish, would he? After spending his entire adult life with the same woman, he’d never done the casual-dating thing before, so the rules were somewhat of a mystery to him.

  One thing was patently clear, however—he was definitely overthinking this. It was a meal, not a marriage, for crying out loud. Disgusted with himself, he got into his car and headed for Daisy’s place in town.

  By the time he parked in front of her house, he’d nearly talked himself out of the whole thing. But he soldiered on, took the rickety steps to her porch two at a time and rapped on the door, half hoping she wasn’t there. Then he wouldn’t have to follow through and could have a stress-free, relaxing night at home.

  He was about to give up when the door swung open, and there she was. Her hair was in a ponytail and her clothes were covered in
various colors of paint.

  She seemed pleased but surprised to see him. “David. I wasn’t expecting you, as you can tell,” she said with a delicate, sweet laugh. “I’m doing some painting.”

  “So I can see. I’m sorry to bother you. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d see if you were interested in dinner, but you’re busy.”

  “Not that busy.”

  She had a way of making him feel better about himself. He didn’t know what she did or how she did it, but he always felt better when he was with her.

  “Do you want some help with the painting?”

  “You don’t feel like doing that after how many days at the clinic?”

  “Four or five. I lost count.”

  “Give me fifteen minutes to clean up, and we’ll have dinner.” She stepped back from the door and gestured for him to follow her inside where the odor of fresh paint was pervasive. “I was fixing the hole Truck put in the wall, and once I got going, I decided to change the color.” She took a measuring look at the dark orange wall. “What do you think?”

  “It’s not one you see every day.”

  “I know,” she said with a laugh. “You probably think I’m crazy.”

  “Not at all. I like it.”

  “You don’t have to say that. I’m not sure I like it. I’d hoped it would be warm and welcoming, but it’s just kinda…orange.”

  He laughed. “That it is, but you might like it better when you finish.”

  “Maybe. What do you feel like eating? Pizza?”

  Watching her talk about the paint had him oddly captivated, which gave him the courage to take a gamble. “I had something a little nicer in mind. Maybe Stephanie’s?”

  “Oh.”

  “That doesn’t sound good to you?”

  “It sounds expensive. I don’t need that if you don’t.”

  “It’s not that I need it. I thought it would be fun, and you might enjoy it. After all the nights you’ve fed me lately, I wanted to return the favor.”

  “Pizza would be fine.”

  “I’ve heard such raves about Stephanie’s, but I haven’t had time to try it yet,” he said, hoping to cajole her.

  “I don’t have anything to wear there.”