Hoping for Love (McCarthys of Gansett Island, Book 5)

by Marie Force

“You know it. If I hear one more time, ‘But, honey, we have to take some artistic license with aspects of the story if we’re going to sell it to distributors,’ I’m going to freaking smack him. It’s my story, and either he’s going to tell it the way it happened, or he’s not going to tell it at all.”

  “Um, didn’t you sell him the rights to the story?” Laura asked.

  “I haven’t signed anything yet, and at this rate, I’m not going to.”

  “How did you end up cohosting a party for his ex?” Grace asked.

  “I mentioned to him yesterday, before we had the big fight, that someone ought to do something for Abby. One thing led to another…”

  “That’s rather magnanimous of you,” Laura said, grinning at Grace.

  “No kidding,” Stephanie muttered. “If I don’t kill him—and his brother—before the party, it’ll be a miracle.”

  “Don’t kill Evan on my behalf,” Grace said. “He was very clear that he wasn’t interested in anything long-term.”

  “I don’t care if he used the words ‘one-night stand,’” Stephanie said, “he still owed you more than waking up to an empty bed, especially after your first time.” She paused before she added, “He did know it was your first time, didn’t he?”

  “He figured it out.”

  “Grrrr,” Stephanie said. “Lame.”

  “She’s right,” Laura said. “He’s my cousin, and I love him dearly, but it was shitty of him to take the coward’s way out by leaving before you woke up.”

  Grace felt like a balloon after all the air had been let out. She’d been sort of okay with what Evan had done until her friends spelled things out for her. “How sad is it that I’m so naïve I didn’t even know I should be mad until you pointed it out to me?”

  “There’s nothing naïve about thinking the best of people,” Laura said with a kind smile.

  “You guys are coming to the party,” Stephanie said. “I need reinforcements.”

  “I’m not going,” Grace said. “This is Evan’s turf. It wouldn’t be fair for me to show up out of the blue at a party with his family if he’s not interested in seeing me again.”

  “You did nothing wrong,” Stephanie said. “Why should you slink off like you have something to be ashamed about? If anyone should be ashamed, it’s him! If I have to help throw a party for my boyfriend’s ex, I can invite anyone I want to.”

  “I want to be you when I grow up,” Grace said with a sigh.

  “Me too,” Laura added.

  Stephanie barked out a laugh. “You don’t need to be anyone other than who you are—either of you. You’re both perfect. Your choice in men, however…”

  “Listen to her, all full of herself,” Laura said to Grace. “You should’ve seen her mooning over Grant before the ‘I love yous.’ It was downright pathetic.”

  “That’s not nice,” Stephanie said.

  Laughing, Laura said, “But it’s true!”

  “Let’s talk about you and Owen,” Stephanie retorted.

  Laura got very still all of a sudden. “What about him?”

  “You’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind to miss the sparks between you two,” Stephanie said. “So what gives?”

  “We’re friends. That’s it.”

  “Grace?” Stephanie said. “Is she lying?”

  Grace took a good long look at Laura. “She does have a bit of a deer-in-the-headlights look to her.”

  Laura scowled playfully at Grace. “Traitor.”

  “Spill it, sister,” Stephanie said. “What’s going?”

  “My ex called last night. He got the divorce papers and was flipping out as if it was some big surprise to him that I want out. He says he won’t sign them now or ever.”

  “Shit,” Stephanie said.

  “I was upset after the call, and Owen was really great. We went out for pizza and played video games at the arcade. It was… It was fun. He makes me laugh when there’s absolutely nothing funny about my life right now.”

  Grace let out a dreamy sigh that made Laura roll her eyes.

  “And that’s all that happened?” Stephanie asked.

  “You’re a pain in the ass,” Laura said, laughing at Stephanie’s persistence.

  “Yes, I am. Now fess up.”

  “When we got back to the hotel…he might’ve kissed me.”

  Stephanie let out another unholy shriek. “I knew it!”

  “Don’t get all excited,” Laura said. “I told him it can’t happen again.”

  “Why?” Grace and Stephanie asked in stereo.

  “Because! Technically, I’m still married to Justin and will be for God knows how long it takes him to sign the damned papers. And when he finds out about the baby…” Laura shuddered, as if she couldn’t bear to think about that.

  “The guy cheated on you,” Stephanie reminded her.

  “He says he never actually cheated.”

  “Only because the woman he made the date with was a friend of yours seeing if he would keep the date,” Stephanie said. “Who knows what else he’s been up to?”

  “Are you sorry you left Justin?” Grace asked, even though she wasn’t entirely comfortable asking her new friend such a personal question. But since she’d told them everything that’d happened with Evan, turnabout was fair play.

  “No! I can’t even stand the sound of his voice after what he did.”

  “Then why can’t you date Owen if your marriage is truly over?” Grace asked.

  “Excellent question,” Stephanie said.

  “It is truly over. I could never go back to him.” Laura fiddled with the blanket, flipping it back and forth between her fingers. “Owen doesn’t want the same things I do. He likes his life the way it is with no commitments or no obligations beyond the next gig. I’m going to have a baby. My whole life will be about commitments and obligations for the next eighteen years. Besides, what guy wants to be saddled with someone else’s kid?”

  “Mac took to fatherhood like Thomas was his own child,” Stephanie said.

  “That’s different. Mac was ready for a family. Owen doesn’t want a permanent address, let alone a baby that isn’t his.”

  “Is it possible,” Grace said, “that what he wants might be changing?”

  “A tiger doesn’t change his stripes overnight,” Laura said.

  “That tiger looks at you like he wants to drag you back to his den and have his wicked way with you,” Stephanie said.

  Grace nodded in agreement. “What she said.”

  “You guys are crazy. Owen is totally happy with his life. There’s no point in talking about something that’s not going to happen.”

  “Whatever you say, tiger,” Stephanie said skeptically. “I’ve got to get back to work. Can I count on you guys having my back tonight?”

  “I’ll be there,” Laura said.

  Grace thought about it for a moment and decided Stephanie was right. She hadn’t done anything with Evan that he hadn’t thoroughly enjoyed. There was no reason to avoid him, especially when someone she hoped would be a good friend in her new life was asking for help.

  “Grace?” Stephanie said. “Come on, be a pal.”

  “I’ll be there.” The words were out of Grace’s mouth before she could take any more time to ponder the implications.

  “You can come with me and Owen,” Laura said.

  “Bring that fifty,” Stephanie said, laughing as she ended the call.

  Grace left the hotel and headed for the nearby ferry landing. Her leg muscles were tired and sore from the workout she’d put them through the night before, and her heart was heavy after her talk with the girls. She could no longer deny the implications of what Evan had done. He’d meant it when he said there couldn’t be anything more between them. Grace had to admit that she’d entertained the slightest hope that she might be the exception to his rule. Apparently, that was not the case.

  It didn’t take years of experience to get that something significant had occurred in that hotel room last night, an
d knowing that she’d rocked him gave her a measure of satisfaction. If he was too much of a coward to face what’d transpired between them, she had no choice but to get on with her life and file away the experience as something special and magical to remember on lonely nights. That didn’t mean she wasn’t good and mad about him being a coward, though. While she wanted to nurture the anger, more than anything, she was disappointed when she thought of what could’ve been.

  She approached the window where ferry tickets were sold.

  “May I help you?” the woman working the counter asked.

  “I need to speak to someone about moving household goods to the island.”

  “That’d be Seamus O’Grady, our general manager. Let me see if he’s available.”

  “Thank you.” While she waited, Grace studied the breakwater that formed the northern end of South Harbor. The surf crashing against the rocks sent spray high into the air. Off in the distance, she made out the hulking shape of the next ferry heading toward the island.

  “Would you be the lass looking to move to our fair island?” a man asked in a lovely Irish accent.

  Grace turned to him and caught herself before she could let out a gasp. What was with the men on this island? To call him a redhead wouldn’t do him justice. His hair was a rich auburn, his eyes a startling green and his smile full of the devil. In short, he was positively dreamy, a word Grace hadn’t used since middle school when she was lusting after Trey. “Um, yes,” she said, giving her head a slight shake to regain her focus. “I’m the one looking to move.”

  “Well, isn’t that fortunate for the single men of Gansett?” With a teasing grin, he added, “I call dibs.”

  Oh my God, was he flirting with her? Grace wished she could press Pause, call Laura and get her over here to read the subtitles. She decided she could at least attempt to flirt right back. It was good practice. “How do you know I’m not married with five kids?”

  Feigning shock, he rested his hand over his heart. “Are you?”

  “No,” she said, laughing at his outrageousness.

  With a wink, he said, “Thank God for that. Follow me, lass. We’ll get you squared away.”

  Grace went with him into the ferry company’s main office, located across the parking lot from the ticket area. Once inside, he gestured for her to take a seat on the other side of a desk scattered with binders, coffee cups and stacks of paper. A khaki-colored Gansett Island Ferry Company ball cap sat on top of the disarray.

  From one of the desk drawers, Seamus produced a form and walked her through the scheduling of a midsize moving truck on the ferry. “Nothing flammable like propane tanks, for example, can be packed in the truck,” he said, drawing her attention to the list of rules. He fired up his computer and scanned through a complicated-looking spreadsheet. “Next available date for a truck of that size is two weeks from today. You could bring it over in the morning and send it back the same evening. Would that work for you?”

  Grace had already arranged to hire her college-aged brother to drive the truck and help her move in. “That’d be great.”

  “It’s all yours, Gracie, my love.”

  Yes, definitely flirting. She didn’t bother telling him that no one called her “Gracie,” but she liked how the dreaded nickname sounded coming from him.

  “So what brings you to live on Gansett?”

  “Can you keep a secret?”

  He flashed an offended scowl. “I’ll protect your secrets with my very life. Back in my village in County Cork, they call me ‘The Vault.’ Nothing gets past these lips,” he said, leaning in closer, “unless you want it to.”

  Grace rolled her eyes at the double entendre, charmed by him despite herself. “In that case, Mr. Vault, I’m buying Gold’s Pharmacy.”

  “You don’t say! How exciting for you—and for us.”

  “I’m thrilled and scared and excited and all sorts of things.”

  “I can only imagine. Nothing simple about running a business. I ought to know. When Joe Cantrell hired me to run the show for him while his missus is in vet school in Ohio, I figured, how hard can it be? Well, let me tell ya…”

  “Not as easy as it looks, huh?”

  “Not at’all. Forms and inspections and staffing and licenses and more inspections and safety drills and a million decisions every day. Oh my.”

  “And you love every minute of it.”

  “Best job I ever had.” Flashing a rakish grin, he added, “Did I mention I’m a seafaring captain, among my many other talents?”

  “No, I don’t believe you did,” Grace said, suppressing a laugh.

  He looked around to make sure no one was listening, even though he was well aware they were alone in the office. “Since we’re going to be neighbors,” he said gravely, “I’d be happy to show you my license.”

  Grace made sure to show the proper deference. “I’m sure it’s quite impressive.”

  “Oh, lass, it’s very impressive indeed.”

  By the time they’d ironed out the rest of the details for her move, he had her laughing so hard she was wiping tears from her eyes. Seamus had succeeded in restoring Grace’s good mood and her self-confidence. Nothing like a gorgeous Irishman with an overabundance of charm and blarney to make a girl feel good about herself.

  “Once you get settled, I insist you let me take you to dinner to welcome you to our fair island.”

  “That’d be very nice. Thank you for asking.”

  Seamus took her hand and bowed gallantly before her, kissing the back of her hand. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

  “I appreciate your help with the scheduling.”

  “Also my pleasure. I’ll see you around, Grace Ryan.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  “Aye. Me, too, lass. Me, too.”

  With the luck of the Irish on her side, Grace returned to the Beachcomber to freshen up before she headed to Gold’s to talk details. Entering her room, she zeroed in on the phone next to the bed, hoping to see the message light blinking. Nothing.

  “That’s okay,” she said. “Evan McCarthy is hardly the only fish in the sea.” As she brushed her hair, she wondered how long it would take—once she mentioned it to Laura and Stephanie—to get back to Evan that Seamus had asked her out. Hopefully, not long. She wouldn’t want Evan to think she was sitting around waiting to hear from him. She had far better things to do with her time.

  Chapter 17

  Straddling his board and bobbing in the late afternoon chop, Evan watched a new wave grow about two hundred yards offshore. With four-foot rollers breaking on the island’s west side, he’d expected a mob scene at his favorite surfing spot, but he had the place to himself. Under normal circumstances, he didn’t surf alone. But nothing about this day was normal, and he needed the mindless escape surfing always provided.

  Evan paddled out a little farther, eyeing the cresting wave and moving into position. Grabbing a ride on a wave was all about timing. Balance and coordination played a role, too, but primarily it was about timing the collision of board and wave just right.

  Growing up on the island, surfing had been one of Evan’s favorite pastimes. Whenever he needed to clear his head, he’d grab his board and head for the west side. Surfing was also the one athletic pursuit he’d been better at than his brothers, and he never missed a chance to remind them of that.

  As the wave started to peak, Evan paddled furiously, skimming along the top until the force of the water grabbed him and sent him hurtling forward. Evan scrambled to his feet for the wild ride to shore, crouching into a turn that gave him another hundred yards of speed before he bailed out into shallow water.

  “Awesome.” He climbed back on the board and took a minute to catch his breath, drifting in the smaller waves that broke closer to the shore. Other than his parents and family, he missed riding Gansett waves most of all when he was in Nashville.

  When he lived here, Evan had surfed year-round, much to his mother’s dismay, but on this trip, one thing af
ter another had kept him out of the water. His sister’s wedding, the tropical storm that made the conditions too dangerous, the birth of his niece and helping to run the marina while his brother was busy with a new baby and his father was recovering from a head injury had left little time for surfing.

  As he paddled out in search of the next wave, Evan’s mind raced a mile a minute. He thought about his parents and their current struggles as well as his new niece Hailey. Thinking of his sister Janey, he wondered if she and Joe were settling back into their home in Ohio for her second year of vet school. He’d have to give them a call this week to see how things were going.

  No matter where he was or what he was doing, Evan made a point to speak to each of his siblings every week. The phone calls kept the five of them connected, which was important to him—and to them.

  Speaking of phone calls, he needed to return the call from his manager that he’d received while he was out last night with Grace—

  “No!” His heart kicked into gear at the thought of her. “You’re not thinking about her. So don’t go there. It was one night. No big deal.” The whole point of surfing was to not think about her. He’d already spent enough time thinking about her. He was all done with that subject.

  Facedown on the board, he paddled hard, the muscles in his arms burning from the effort. Despite his iron will to think about anything other than her, the erotic interlude ran through his mind like one of those loop videos that played over and over again. Every detail was burned indelibly into his memory, as vivid as it had been in the moment.

  Every moan, every sigh, every stroke of her soft hands…

  “Stop it!” he screamed at the surf. “That’s enough, goddamn it! Just stop! There’s nothing special about her! She’s a nice girl, and we had a good time. That’s the end of it!” He eyed a new wave with the potential to be bigger than the last and paddled into position to wait for it.

  The closer the wave came, the bigger it got. Adrenaline cruised through Evan’s body, feeding the high he could only get from surfing. Nothing was quite like riding atop the perfect wave, except perhaps an exquisite night in the arms of the perfect woman.