by Force, Marie
“Mac… Oh my God, are you kidding me?” Holding the velvet box, she sat up in bed, her hand over her mouth as tears filled her gorgeous eyes.
He sat up, too, took the box from her, retrieved the ring and slid it onto her finger.
Her hand trembled as she held it out in front of her for a better look. “It’s too much! My God!”
“It’s four carats, one for every decade we’ve spent together, and it’s the least of what you deserve for putting up with me that long.”
“Putting up with you? Is that what you think I’ve done?”
“Sometimes,” he said with a smile.
“Mac…all these years later, you still think you lured me away from some grandiose life for something lesser here, and that’s not the case at all. I’ve been exactly where I wanted to be every day that I lived here with you.”
“You could’ve had anyone.”
“You could’ve had anyone.”
“I chose you. My heart chose you. I’ll never forget the first time I laid eyes on you and knew it was you. I just knew.”
She took his hand and brought it to rest over her heart. “My heart chose you, too. It still does. Every day.”
Smiling, he used their joined hands to tug her closer to him. “We’ve got a lot of celebrating to do today. What do you say we get this party started?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“What do I always have in mind when you’re in bed with me?”
She laughed and reached for him. “At least you’re predictable.”
Overwhelmed by love for her, he pressed his lips against her neck. “Thanks for spending forty years with me, Lin. You’ve made my whole life just by being here.”
“Same goes, my love.”
Chapter 3
Mac McCarthy Junior woke on that cold winter day to the distinctive sound of retching coming from the master bathroom. He was up and out of bed before his brain had time to catch up with his body. Maddie was sick again, and he couldn’t bear to listen to her suffer.
Though she’d told him before she didn’t want him anywhere near her when she was puking, he defied her orders and went in to hold her hair back while she dry heaved, flushing the toilet for her when she was done.
“Mac,” she said between waves of nausea, “go away.”
“Not happening. It’s my fault you’re sick, so you have to let me help you.”
“It’s not your fault, and I don’t want you seeing me like this.”
“Aren’t we past that by now? Don’t ask me to pretend I can’t hear you throwing up.”
She moaned and rested her face on the arm she had propped on the toilet.
Mac released her hair and went to wet a washcloth with cool water. Her eyes remained closed while he got her to lift her head so he could wipe her face and mouth. Then he encouraged her to lean on him rather than the toilet.
“It’s so gross. Who wants to see his wife like this?”
“I do. I want to see my wife every minute of every day, and I don’t care what she looks like.”
“Or what she smells like?”
He nuzzled her neck. “She always smells delicious.”
That drew a grunt of laughter from her. “Sure she does.”
“Is it over for now?”
“I think so.”
“Let’s get you back to bed for a while.” He helped her up and kept his hands on her hips while she brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth. Then he lifted her into his arms and carried her back to bed. That she rested her head on his shoulder rather than protesting him carrying her indicated how lousy she felt.
He laid her gently on the bed, pulled the comforter up and over her and then got back into bed with her.
She shivered violently. “Freezing.”
“Let me warm you up.”
Maddie curled up to him, and Mac wrapped his arms around her, tucking her in as close to him as he could get her. “I’m sorry you’re suffering so much this time around.”
“It’s fine. Whatever I have to do.”
Mac rubbed small circles on her back. “How’re the boobs feeling?”
“Awful. They’re so sore.”
He kissed her forehead. “My poor baby.”
“I refuse to think of myself as anything other than a lucky mommy who’s getting another chance.”
“Still, it sucks that you feel so crappy.”
“This too shall pass, and at the end of it, we’ll have a healthy, beautiful baby. I hope.”
He hated that she felt the need to add those two little words at the end. “Victoria said there’s no reason to believe we have anything to worry about this time.”
“We didn’t think we had anything to worry about last time, and I went around telling everyone how I didn’t really want to be pregnant, how it was all a big comic accident.”
“It was a comic accident, and no one thought you wanted to lose him, Maddie. Not for one second did anyone think that.”
“I like to think I’ve learned my lesson just the same.”
They were quiet for a long time, with only the pinging of icy snow against the windows marking the silence.
“Do you think you’ll feel up to going tonight?”
“Even if I don’t, I’m going. Wouldn’t miss it. Besides, we don’t need everyone speculating as to why I’m sick all the time.”
In light of what’d happened the last time, they’d agreed to keep the news to themselves for a few months. However, with Maddie so sick, the people closest to them were beginning to wonder what was up. “Let them speculate. We’ll tell them when we’re ready to.”
“The day he’s born?” she asked with a laugh.
It was good to hear her laugh, even if she was being sarcastic. “Maybe a little before then.”
“What’ll we name him?”
She’d been reluctant to talk too much about the baby that was due next summer, so he took it as a good sign when she asked about a name.
“I’m thinking Malcolm John the Third has a nice ring to it.”
“We can’t call him Mac. We’ve got too many Macs as it is.”
“A family can never have too many Macs,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “That’s what you think.”
“We’ll call him Malcolm. Why not? It’s a good name. His friends will call him Mal. I like that.”
“I like it, too. What if he is a she?”
“Since there’s no way in hell she’s going to be born during a tropical storm the way Hailey was, we’ll have to come up with something for a girl that isn’t the name of a storm.”
“We’ve got plenty of time.”
“Go back to sleep for a while, hon. I’ll get up with the kids.”
“You’re the best husband I’ve ever had,” she murmured.
“I’d better be the only husband you ever have, Mrs. McCarthy.”
“Mmm, no one else but you.”
That was all he needed to hear. Someday they’d be celebrating their fortieth anniversary. He had absolutely no doubt about that.
In Providence, Adam McCarthy woke to the sound of sobs coming from the bathroom in the hotel room he’d shared with his fiancée, Abby Callahan. Hearing her heartbroken sounds reminded him of the disastrous day they’d endured yesterday when Abby had been diagnosed with something neither of them had ever heard of—polycystic ovary syndrome.
At least they now knew why, despite a year of nearly constant effort, they had yet to conceive the child they both wanted so badly. And now it was quite possible they never would, thanks to a silent but virulent disorder that would require lifelong management.
Abby had been despondent since hearing the devastating news, and Adam was still trying to process what it meant. After she cried herself to sleep the night before, he’d spent hours on the Internet and had come away terrified for both of them. Conceiving a baby was now the least of their concerns, with the possibility of diabetes, cancer, heart disease and other life-threatening illnesses looming
over her.
He got up to knock on the bathroom door. “Abs? Let me in, honey.”
“No.”
“Abby…please. I need you.” After more than a year together, he knew what to say to get her attention, and she was a sucker for him when he needed her. Today was no different. The lock on the door popped open, and he had to suppress a gasp when he saw the ravages of grief and despair etched into her gorgeous face. He put his arms around her. “Come here, honey.”
She shook her head and pushed him away. “No.”
His Abby, the woman he loved more than he’d ever loved anyone in his life, never said no to him. And she never pushed him away. Placing his hands on her shoulders so she couldn’t turn away, he said, “Baby, listen to me. We’re going to deal with this together. We’ll get the information we need. We’ll find the best doctors in the country, and we’ll fight it together.”
She shook her head. “No, we won’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“I won’t subject you to this. You want children, not a barren wife who’ll have male-pattern baldness and hair in places it doesn’t belong, not to mention cancer and other hideous things.” She shook her head adamantly. “This is not your problem.”
Adam stared at her as if she were someone he’d never met before. This Abby was someone he didn’t recognize. “You’re not thinking clearly today—”
“I’m thinking very clearly, and you’re young enough to find someone else—”
He put his hand over her mouth to stop her from saying something that couldn’t be unsaid—or unheard. “Stop. Just stop that right now. There is no one else in this world for me. Only you. And you can push me away and reject me and tell me you don’t love me anymore, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Tears poured down her cheeks as she shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re signing on for.”
“I already signed the papers.” He reached for her left hand and touched the engagement ring he’d put there months ago.
“We’re not married yet. Nothing says we have to go through with it.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. I’m going to pretend you’re not trying to push me away because something has happened that we didn’t see coming. I’m going to pretend you’d let me get away with this shit if the shoe were on the other foot. If I pretend all that, I won’t be tempted to remind you that you love me and you made a commitment to me and you owe me better than this, regardless of what any doctors might have to say.”
Tears streamed down her face. “It’s not fair to you, Adam.”
“Neither is you reneging on promises you made to me.”
“I’d never renege on those promises under normal circumstances, but this is too much to ask of anyone, especially someone like you, who could have any woman—”
He’d heard more than enough, so he stifled her protests the only way he could think of, by yanking her into his embrace and kissing her until he was all but certain she had forgotten that she’d been trying to push him away. Moving slowly and carefully, he backed her out of the bathroom and eased her onto the bed, coming down on top of her without breaking the kiss.
When her arms encircled his neck, the tension that had gathered in Adam’s chest began to ease ever so slightly. “I love you,” he whispered gruffly when they finally came up for air many minutes later. “I love you and only you. I love you in good times, bad times, healthy times, sick times and every other minute in between. My love is not conditional on you being perfect. It’s not conditional on you being able to bear children. It’s not conditional on anything other than you loving me back, and until about five minutes ago, I thought you loved me as much as I love you.”
“I do, but—”
He kissed her again. “No buts, no conditions, no nothing but you and me staring this thing down together, no matter what might happen. And P.S., the doctors didn’t say having babies was hopeless. They said it would take some doing. So we’ll do what we’ve got to do, no matter what it is, and we will get through this and every other goddamned thing that comes our way, because I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. I’m sorry to say you’re stuck with me.”
“What if I go bald and grow a beard?”
“Then I’ll kiss your sweet bald head and teach you how to shave.”
“Adam…I’m serious.”
“So am I. Do you think I care if something you can’t help happens to you? Do you think I’ll love you only when you’re young and beautiful?”
“I could get really heavy.” She’d put on a few pounds in the last year that he knew she was stressed about.
“That’s just more of you to love.”
“You say that now…”
“I say that forever. In fact, we’re getting married New Year’s Eve.” He decided that as he said the words. “No more delays, no more waffling, no more of anything other than you and me married. You’ve got your dress, and everyone will be home for the holidays. It’s on.”
“Adam, you’re just saying that—”
“Because I want to be married to you more than I want anything in this world.”
“You’re awfully rude this morning.”
“Likewise, my love. It’s awfully rude of you to think I’m going to run for the hills at the first sign of trouble.”
“This isn’t just trouble. It’s a life sentence.”
“If that’s how you’d like to view our marriage…”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“I do know, and a far worse life sentence for me would be life without you. So don’t condemn me to that by thinking I can’t handle what’s ahead, no matter what it may be. I can handle it as long as I have you and we have each other. Everything else is secondary to that.”
She released a deep, shuddering breath marked by the hitches that came from hours of crying. “You’re sure about this?”
He kissed her again. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. Ever. Remember that first week we spent together?”
“As if I could ever forget it.” She traced the outline of the Gansett Island tattoo on his bicep.
“And when we were apart, when I was back in New York for those interminable weeks…I thought I’d die from missing you. I couldn’t wait to get everything wrapped up there so I could come home to you. I still feel that way, every day when I go to work on someone’s malfunctioning computer. Every minute I’m away from you, I’m counting down until I can get home to you. There is nothing, and I do mean nothing, that could make me not want to go home to you, Abs. Not even something I can hardly pronounce.”
“Polycystic ovary syndrome.”
“Not even that.” He kissed her again, lingering when she responded enthusiastically, the way she usually did. That gave him hope that he could eventually disabuse her of the idea that he couldn’t handle this. “So New Year’s Eve… It’s on, yes? I’ll take care of everything. All you’ll have to do is show up looking gorgeous as usual.”
“Okay.”
If her one-word response lacked enthusiasm, well, he had eleven days to work on that before they exchanged vows. He was determined to be everything she needed and to stand by her no matter what might come their way.
In Nashville, Tennessee, Evan McCarthy woke to the supreme pleasure of his fiancée, Grace, in his arms after she’d surprised him on the final night of his three-week tour with superstar Buddy Longstreet. Evan’s single, “My Amazing Grace,” written to honor the love of his life, was charting in the top three on all the industry lists, which was a surprise to no one but him, apparently.
Buddy said he’d known the song would be a smash hit the first time he heard it, and last night, after their show, Buddy had taken him aside with yet another plea to continue pursuing music. “You’d be a fool to go back to your studio on the island when you have a song in the top three, Evan,” Buddy had said in his typically blunt way. “This is your moment. Carpe diem.”
Buddy’s words
had upended his plans to rush home to Grace and Island Breeze Records the minute the last show ended. And then Grace had further upended his plans, in the best possible way, by being naked in his bed when he returned to the hotel. Best. Surprise. Ever. He’d missed her so much, even though he’d talked to her several times a day, FaceTimed with her every night and engaged in an unseemly amount of phone sex.
There was nothing, absolutely nothing, like the real thing when it came to his amazing Grace. He was a little ashamed of how rough he’d been with her last night after missing her so desperately while he was away. But she’d been right there with him, encouraging him to take anything and everything he needed from her.
He ran his hand over the soft skin on her back, touching her because he could. If you’d told him a couple of years ago that he’d be so in love with one woman that he’d turn his back on stardom, he might’ve suggested you have your head examined. But now that he had her, everything else had taken a backseat to their life together. And it would continue to, he decided right in that moment.
Even Buddy’s promises of stardom like he’d once dreamed of weren’t enough to lure him away from Grace or the home they’d made together on the island. It wasn’t enough to turn his back on a year of hard work building the studio or getting it up and running. The weeks on stage had reminded him of a time in his life when everything was an epic struggle.
Having Grace back in his arms was a reminder that life with her was as easy as breathing. No comparison, no debate, no decision. She was what he wanted. He wanted her more than he wanted bright lights and big cities. He wanted her more than he wanted fame or fortune or anything that didn’t include being with her every day.
As he had that thought, one of her big brown eyes popped open. When she saw him there, her smile lit up her face. “Favorite face to wake up to.”
He loved the sleepy, sexy sound of her voice in the morning. He loved being the first person she spoke to every day. He loved being the last one she touched each night. Tracing the outline of her precious face, he said, “Me, too. Best face in the whole wide world.”