Season for Love

by Marie Force

  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 good-byes 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 family, 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 the chiseled features she’d committed to memory. 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.

  Closing her eyes, she imagined his sun-bleached hair, golden-brown eyes and the hard, muscular chest he’d pressed against her breasts during the explosive encounter in her kitchen.

  “You’re going to call me,” he said, “and we’re going to pick up where we left off. Are we clear on how this is going to go?”

  Tiffany didn’t know whether to be relieved to know there’d be more with him or outraged over his dominant tone. No one told her what to do!

  When she didn’t answer him, he gave the waistband of her jeans a firmer tug that threw her off balance and caused her breasts to mash against his chest.

  She gasped when her sensitized nipples made contact with hard muscle.

  “I said, are we clear?”

  While she wanted to protest his high-handedness, she was so aroused all she could manage was the briefest of nods. It was a shock to realize high-handedness turned her on.

  “I didn’t hear you,” he growled in her ear.

>   “Yes,” she whispered. “We’re clear.”

  “Good.” He released her so suddenly she nearly stumbled. Only his hands on her shoulders kept her from falling. And then his palm was on her face in a tender caress that stole the breath from her lungs.

  She tipped her chin in invitation, needing his kiss more than she’d ever needed anything.

  But then he dropped his hand and stepped back. Before she could register her disappointment, he was gone.

  For a long time afterward, Tiffany stood on the deck taking deep, gulping breaths of cool autumn air. When the trembling finally subsided, she went inside to find Dan Torrington. It was time to get this divorce finalized.

  Chapter 20

  Carolina was so angry that it didn’t occur to her to ask how Seamus knew where she lived. Whatever, she thought, it saved her from having to speak to him as he drove his company truck along the island’s winding roads. When she thought of the way he’d totally manipulated the situation, she wanted to scream.

  “What part of the words ‘one-night stand’ don’t you understand?” she asked after many minutes of tense silence.

  “The one-night part.”

  “Are you being intentionally obtuse?”

  “I love when you get all stern with me. It makes me hot.”

  Apparently, everything made him hot. “Answer the question!”

  “I’ve forgotten what it was.”

  Oh my God! He is impossible! “I’d like to walk the rest of the way.”

  “That’s not happening.”

  “This island is perfectly safe. Now stop the truck, and let me out.”

  “It is not perfectly safe for anyone, let alone a gorgeous woman, to walk on these dark roads—alone—at night.”

  Oh, that voice… It ought to be licensed as a deadly weapon! All he had to do was talk, and she forgot about being mad with him.

  “What I don’t understand is why a wise, mature, independent woman such as yourself would give a flying fig about what anyone else thinks of her.”

  “No, you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Make me understand, Carolina. Tell me why we can’t have something we both want.”

  “I don’t want it! I told you that!”

  “You do want it. You won’t allow yourself to have it. There’s a difference.”

  “Now you’re splitting hairs.”

  “There’s a difference,” he said again, more forcefully this time.

  They rode in silence for ten more minutes before he pulled into the dirt lane that led to her home.

  “How do you know where I live?”

  “When something interests me, I pay attention.” Reaching for her hand, he brought it to his lips. “And you, lovely Carolina, interest me.”

  She tugged her hand free and got out of the truck. “Thanks for the ride.”

  When she heard his door slam, she spun around, intending to tell him not to even think about following her. She encountered the broad wall of his chest and uttered an unconvincing squeak of protest when he put his arms around her, cupped her ass and lifted her onto the hood of the truck.

  Shocked and aroused, the heat of the engine was nothing compared to the heat that zipped through her veins as he leaned over her.

  “Give yourself permission, Caro,” he whispered, his gentle tone in sharp contrast to the rough way he’d handled her. His use of her nickname twisted her insides into knots. “Take what you know you want.” He flexed his hips and pushed the hard column of his erection into the V of her legs. “Take it.”

  “I can’t,” she said, thinking of Joe and the family Seamus would someday want. Burying her fingers in his thick auburn hair, she tugged him in for a searing kiss. “I want to,” she said many minutes later when she had no choice but to come up for air. “I won’t deny that.”

  “Don’t deny us, Caro.” His fingers dug into her bottom as he throbbed against her. “We could be so great together.”

  “Until you wake up one day and realize what you’ve sacrificed. I won’t take that away from you.”

  “You’re not taking anything I’m not freely giving, love. I want you. I’ve wanted you from the first time I laid eyes on you. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

  Carolina couldn’t deny that she was seduced, as much by his heartfelt words as the rocking motion of his hips.

  “What would your mother say?”

  At that, he froze, looked down at her in the faint moonlight and let out a deep, ringing laugh. “What in the name of Jesus, Mary and Joseph does my dear sweet mum have to do with this?”

  “If, and I use that word very, very rhetorically, this were to happen, someday, I might have to face her.”

  “She’d think the world of you, love. She’d have all the respect in the world for a woman who was widowed far too young and raised a fine son all on her own while helping her parents run a successful business. What’s not to respect about that woman?”

  “The part where she’s eighteen years older than the dear sweet mum’s precious son and having wild sex with him?”

  His lascivious grin almost drew a smile from her. “It was rather wild, wasn’t it?”

  With her hands on his face, she said, “Focus.”

  “I’m very focused.” He turned his attention to her neck and made her whimper when he nibbled his way from her ear to her throat. “It’s really quite simple, love.” His breath on her sensitive skin touched off an outbreak of goose bumps. “I want to be with you. I want to sleep with you and eat with you and talk with you and wake up with you and fight over the TV with you and go to bed with you.” His teeth closed on her earlobe. “I want to make wild love with you every single day.”

  Carolina blinked back tears. She was so far out of her league with this man and so powerfully charmed by him. “How can you possibly know that will make you happy?”

  “I can’t possibly know for sure, but I have a sneaking suspicion it could make us both happy.” His lips found hers in the dark for one of those long, deep, wet kisses he specialized in. By the time he drew back from her, she was quivering and on the verge of an explosive release. “I know you’re worried about what Joe might say, and to tell you the God’s honest truth, so am I. I think the world of him and would never want to disappoint him.”

  As he spoke, he smoothed the hair off her forehead. “But he’s found his love, and he’s as happy as any man could ever hope to be. I can’t imagine the man I know and respect would want anything less for the mother he loves so dearly.” He kissed her again, softly and sweetly this time, and then lifted himself off her. The cool night air was a shock after the heat of his body. With both hands, he helped her down from the truck.

  Carolina was caught off guard by his unexpected retreat. Reeling, she stumbled, and he caught her.

  “It’s okay, love.” He kissed her forehead. “Go on in now. You think about what I said, and when you’re ready, you come to me.”

  She started to walk away but turned back to him. “It’s not about whether I want you, Seamus.”

  “I know that.”

  With a nod, she went inside and closed the door, leaning against it until she heard the truck start up and pull out of the driveway. Then she slid down to the floor and sat there for a long time, thinking about what he’d said and wishing things were different. Oh, how she wished things were different.

  Owen and Evan tuned their guitars in a ritual as old as their friendship. They’d been playing together since they first met when they were in high school. That was why it had pained Owen to say no to Evan’s business proposal. At one time, he might’ve been intrigued by it. But now he was intrigued by the idea of living and working with Laura. Funny how things changed.

  With a fire burning in the hearth and most of his favorite people gathered around him, Owen should’ve been more at peace than he’d ever been in his life. But Justin’s demand weighed heavily on Owen as he let Evan lead the way through the first set.

  Evan, who’d been plagued
by worse than usual allergies this fall, signaled for Owen to continue without him when a relentless bout of sneezing sent him from the room.

  As Owen strummed his guitar, he sought out Laura, almost willing her to look at him. When her gaze met his, he felt the impact from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. What a lucky, lucky bastard he was to have found her. Now that he had her, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to keep her close. He wondered if Justin had any idea how determined they were to be together. Well, he’d soon find out if he chose to make an issue of their relationship.

  He smiled at Laura and played the opening chords to George Harrison’s song “Something.” Playing for her and only her, he put everything he felt for her into the song, letting her know something about her made her different from every other woman in the world.

  At first, only Laura realized he was sending her a love letter in the form of a song, but by the time he hit the second chorus, everyone else had tuned in to the moment unfolding between them. I guess we’ve gone public, he thought, satisfied that their friends were in on the secret they’d been keeping.

  Laura sent him an intimate, loving smile that warmed him all the way through. He couldn’t wait to go home with her, to debrief the party, to sleep wrapped up in her. He couldn’t wait for everything with her.

  The door swung open to admit Slim Jackson, Luke’s good friend and the island’s number-one charter pilot. He was tall and muscular with dark hair and eyes and an easy, relaxed manner. His grandfather had tagged him with the nickname when he was a gangly kid, and it had stuck, becoming funny when Slim grew into a well-built man.

  “Hey, you made it,” Luke said to Slim as Owen finished the song to enthusiastic applause.

  Slim said something to Luke that had him turning to signal Owen.

  He put down his guitar and went over to see what was going on. Shaking hands with Slim, he noticed the other man seemed uncharacteristically rattled. “What’s up?” Owen asked.

  “I just flew your mom over from the mainland.”

  Owen hadn’t spoken to his mother in a couple of weeks, and she’d never mentioned a trip to the island. “Really? What’s she doing here?”