by Marie Force
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered, summoning all the concentration he needed to ride the monster that was barreling down on him. As the undertow sucked him out from the shore, Evan moved into position. He eyed the roller, measuring and calculating, waiting for the break that didn’t come.
“Shit,” he whispered as it peaked right under him, lifting the board and shooting it forward. He’d timed it all wrong. Getting his balance, he stood for the ride, whipping over the surface of the water so fast that the shoreline blurred. Realizing the wave was going to break very close to the beach, it occurred to Evan that being out here alone might not be the smartest thing he’d ever done.
The board flew out from under him, but the ripcord fastened to his ankle kept it attached to him. The wave dragged him down and slammed him into the bottom. He couldn’t get his hands down in time to keep his face from grinding into sand and shells and rocks. Knowing better than to fight the currents, he gave in to the will of the water and eventually broke the surface, gasping for air.
“Holy shit,” he whispered, ducking beneath another wave as the ripcord pulled and tugged at his ankle. Trying to catch his breath and unscramble his brain, Evan floated on his back, letting the board drag him along behind it. The salt water burned his abraded face, and Evan wondered if he was bleeding, which led to thoughts of sharks. Just as he was about to swim for shore, a strong arm encircled his chest.
“Jesus H. Christ,” Owen said, breathing hard. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.”
“That was one hell of a wipeout. Scared the freaking shit out of me.”
“Where’d you come from?”
“I was on the stairs coming down when I saw you misread that one big-time.”
He’d been misreading everything lately. “I’m okay,” he said when his feet connected with sand.
Owen released him but stayed close. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah.” Picking up his board, Evan walked on wobbly legs and dropped down in the sand.
Owen landed next to him and handed him a towel. “You’re bleeding like a stuck pig.”
Evan pressed the towel to his face and winced from the sting of terrycloth meeting raw skin.
“That’s gonna be nasty looking.”
“It’s not that bad.” Evan withdrew the towel and was stunned by how much blood there was. “Is it?”
“It’s pretty bad. You’re gonna want to get that cleaned up so it doesn’t scab over when it’s all sandy.”
Returning the towel to his face, Evan reclined on the sand and looked up at the blue sky. “And this day goes from bad to worse.”
“I take it things didn’t go well with Grace last night?”
Owen’s question struck him in the sensitive area just above his rib cage, leaving an ache that demanded his full attention.
“Ev?”
“It was okay.”
“Just okay?”
Evan wished he could share his thoughts on the matter with Owen, but since he couldn’t explain his unusual reaction to Grace to himself, how would he explain it to someone else?
“What’s with you? It’s like pulling teeth to get a word out of you.”
“It was probably the best date I’ve ever been on.”
Evan could tell that he’d shocked the shit out of his friend. “Is that right? Wow. So what now?”
Evan shrugged. “Nothing. We had a good time. What else is there to say?”
“So let me get this straight—it was the best date of your life, but you’re not going to see her again?”
Why did it sound so awful when Owen put it that way? “That’s about right.”
“You’re screwed up, man.”
“There’s a newsflash.”
“I don’t get why you’re so anti-relationship. You grew up with two parents who wrote the blueprint for successful marriage. So how does the son of Big Mac and Linda McCarthy run from anything that might, someday, down the road, in the distant future lead to marriage?”
Because he had no answer to Owen’s very good question, Evan went on the offensive. “How am I any different from you?”
“My parents were nothing like yours.”
Since Owen rarely talked about his family or his upbringing, Evan was intrigued by the rare insight. “How were they different?”
Owen hesitated for a long moment, as if deciding how much he wanted to share. “My dad, the general, was kind of a dick. Everything was his way or the highway, you know? We all breathed easier when he was deployed, including my mom.”
“He didn’t, you know…”
“Knock us around? Sometimes. Mostly we went out of our way to avoid him. I went out of my way to keep him away from my younger brothers and sisters.”
Having never heard any of this before, Evan marveled at how he’d known Owen most of his life but didn’t know him as well as he’d thought. He’d come to the island every summer to see his grandparents, but he’d never talked much about what went on the rest of the year. “So you bore the brunt.”
Owen stared straight ahead at the ocean. “Something like that.”
“I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“It was a long time ago.” Owen flashed the grin that was far more his speed than the somber expression. “He wouldn’t dare look at me cross-eyed now.”
Evan smiled. “I bet sometimes you wish he would.”
“I’m not above that level of pettiness, but I don’t live my life looking backward. No point in that.”
“So you don’t ever see yourself with a wife and kids?”
“I never said that.”
Evan studied his old friend. “Why are you acting all smug, as if you’ve got a big secret or something?”
“No secrets.”
“What’s up with you and Laura?”
“Nothing.”
“Why do I not believe you?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say. We’re friends. I like her. I think she likes me. We have some laughs. Nothing more to it than that.”
“Who’re you trying to convince? Me or you?”
“You’re really not going to see Grace again?”
Evan had to give Owen credit for successfully deflecting the conversation back to Evan. “What’s the point, O? She lives in Connecticut. I’m going back to Nashville soon. I don’t want to get into something I can’t handle right now. I’ve got enough to deal with.”
“I suppose that makes sense. I’m sure she’ll understand—as long as you didn’t sleep with her or anything.”
As the comment scored a direct hit, Evan continued to stare up at the sky.
“Aw, jeez, man. You didn’t sleep with her, did you?”
Evan let his silence speak for him.
“Shit,” Owen said. “That changes everything.”
Wasn’t that the truth?
Chapter 18
With Grant and Stephanie preparing for Abby’s party in stony silence, Linda decided it would be better to wait for her husband outside. That way she could resist the temptation to get in the middle of the screenplay dispute that had spilled into the party prep.
Linda hoped they would work out their differences, because she loved Stephanie and adored the two of them together. She’d never seen her second son as happy and content as he’d been in the last few weeks since he decided to stay with her rather than returning to LA. They belonged together, but working together was no easy task.
She ought to know. Linda and her husband had done it for the first eight years of their marriage, before they discovered life was much more harmonious with him running the marina and her handling the hotel.
They also learned that not spending so much time together during the day made for sweeter nights. Thinking about those days as young parents with so many responsibilities and so little time to call their own made Linda smile when she remembered all the creative ways they’d made up for lost time.
The closer the sun got to setting, the chillier the air became. As she snu
ggled into her sweater, she realized she was nervous. It seemed like a lot was riding on this evening, and she didn’t even know where they were going.
The rumble of a motorcycle engine caught her attention because it sounded like her son Mac’s bike. If he was riding that death trap he loved so much with two babies counting on him, Linda would shoot him. Of course it could be Evan, too, since he’d borrowed the bike from his brother last week. Linda wished she’d sent the damned thing to the junkyard when she’d had the chance.
She got up and headed down the stairs as the motorcycle crunched to a stop in the crushed-shell driveway.
When the rider removed his helmet, Linda gasped at the sight of her husband. “What’re you doing? You shouldn’t be on that thing! What if you fall off or hit your head again or—”
“Lin,” he said, smiling despite the note of warning in his tone. “I’d like to take you on a little adventure. Are you game?” From his perch on the motorcycle, he held out a hand to her.
What was she supposed to do? Of course she was game, but she hated that stinking motorcycle. Every time Mac had driven off on it as a teenager, she’d been convinced he’d be killed. Now her husband expected her to actually ride on it?
“Why don’t we take my car?”
“Because there’s nothing adventurous about a VW bug.”
She scowled at the insult to her beloved yellow bug. “How can you operate that thing with a cast on your arm?”
“I cut off the hand part with a hacksaw.” With the boyish grin that still made her knees weak, he held up his arm to show a cast that now began at his wrist and ended just below his elbow. He looked so darned pleased with himself that Linda fought back a smile that would undercut her disapproval.
“Really, Mac, you can’t honestly expect me…”
He got off the bike, unhooked the spare helmet and placed it on her head. “I expect you to trust me. You know I’d never risk your safety.” Securing the strap under her chin, he made sure it was good and snug before he framed her face with his big hands and gently compelled her to look up at him. “Trust me?”
“Of course I do, but—”
He kissed the words right off her lips. “No buts. Hop on.”
“Mac…”
“You’ll love it. I promise. There’s nothing like it.”
The last thing Linda wanted was to start this night off on the wrong foot, so she reluctantly slid her leg over the seat and settled behind him. He wore a long-sleeved denim shirt that was one of her favorites because of the way it set off the vivid blue eyes he’d passed down to each of their sons.
“Put your arms around me, babe, and hold on tight.”
Since there was nothing she’d rather do, Linda snuggled in close to him, and as she caught a whiff of the cologne he applied after every shave, she realized he must’ve showered and changed at the marina. He’d put a lot of thought into this evening, which filled her with hope and anticipation.
He fired up the bike and had them on their way before Linda had the chance to chicken out.
She’d never been on a motorcycle, and it didn’t take long to discover she’d been missing out, especially as the ripple of her husband’s muscles under her hands reminded her of how much she loved being close to him. After such a rough couple of months, she was thrilled to be going somewhere—anywhere—with him.
Linda closed her eyes and gave herself over to him and his adventure.
They rode for a long time, through town, up and down hills, past the bluffs and the southeast lighthouse. Finally, he downshifted and turned into a driveway she recognized. He brought the bike to a stop in front of Luke Harris’s house.
“What’re we doing here?” she asked when he cut the engine.
“You’ll see.” After he helped her off the bike and stashed their helmets, he produced a flashlight and held out a hand to her.
Linda took his hand and followed him to the stairs that led to the beach below. “Where’s Luke? Does he know we’re here?”
“I imagine he’s probably over at our house by now for the party, and yes, he was happy to loan us his beach for the evening.”
As they took the stairs to the secluded stretch of shore, Linda’s heart began to race with excitement. He knew how much she loved the beach, and it meant a lot to her that he’d taken that into consideration.
“Careful now,” he said as he led the way.
Linda held on tight to his hand and followed the faint beam of the light on the stairs. When they landed in the sand, they kicked off their shoes and stashed them next to the stairs. The sand was cool against her bare feet, the breeze soft on her face and the moon bright upon the water.
“Madame,” he said, bowing before her and extending his arm.
Linda settled her hand into the crook of his elbow and walked along the shoreline for a short distance until they ducked into a secluded inlet between two dunes.
“Wait here for a sec, hon,” he said.
A minute later, a fire striker flared to life, and he went around lighting a ring of tiki torches, ending up at a fire pit that he also lit. The flames shot high into the sky, casting a glow upon him that took her breath away. He was still, without a doubt, the sexiest guy she’d ever laid eyes upon, and he was holding out his hand to her.
Linda went to him, taking in the open-sided tent that had been staked to the sand. Underneath were two lounge chairs and a cooler. “When did you do all this?” Linda asked, astounded by the effort he’d gone to.
“I can’t take credit for the beach camp. It belongs to Luke and Syd. I guess they had Mac, Maddie and Thomas over for a cookout earlier in the summer. Mac told me about it and helped me get the cooler down here.”
“So Mac knows that things have been…”
He put his arms around her, drawing her into a hug. “Off.” The feel of his lips on her neck sent shivers cascading through her. “Things have been off between us, and I hate that. I hate that it’s my fault. I hate that I’ve been an ass to you, and I hate that our kids have noticed that we’re not getting along the way we usually do.”
Linda blinked back tears as his softly spoken words registered. “They’ve noticed that?”
“Apparently, there’s been some talk in the ranks about what’s going on between Mom and Dad. They’ve been worried about us.”
“I’ve been worried about us.”
“I hate that most of all.”
Linda pressed her face to his broad chest, listening to the strong beat of his heart and delighting in the caress of his fingers on the back of her neck. No matter how difficult things had been since the accident, she was so very thankful he’d survived. What would she ever do without him?
“In my whole damned life,” he said gruffly, “you’re the one thing I got totally right.”
Moved to tears, Linda said, “You did a pretty darned good job with those kids of ours, too.”
“Maybe so, but it all comes back to you.” He drew back to look down at her. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
“I think so.”
“You couldn’t possibly know, because there’re no words to tell you what you mean to me, what you’ve meant to me for so long.”
“Mac…”
“We’ve been so lucky, you and me. I could’ve whisked you off to Paris on a private jet tonight if that’s what I thought you’d want.”
“I’ve never wanted anything like that—and besides, you’d hate leaving the island. We both would. What fun would that be?”
“I used to worry, you know, about whether you’d take to island life. You were such a city girl when I met you, all polished and pretty. I worried for five long years after I brought you here that you were going to tell me one day you couldn’t take it anymore.”
“I had no idea! You’ve never told me that before!”
“I was afraid to say it out loud, but I was constantly watching for signs of discontent.”
“I’ve never been unhappy here. Not for one minute. I feel
so bad you worried about that. All that mattered to me, all that’s ever mattered to me, was being with you. I wouldn’t have been happy anywhere else without you.”
He brought his lips down on hers for a soft, sweet kiss that made her heart pound the way it had the first time he kissed her, the moment she’d known for sure that he was the one for her.
“What would you have done if I told you I couldn’t handle island life?” she asked.
“I would’ve moved to wherever you wanted to go.”
“I can’t picture you anywhere but here.”
“Neither can I, but I would’ve gone anywhere in the world if it meant I got to be with you.”
Linda snuggled into his warm embrace. “I can’t believe we’ve never talked about this before.”
“I hope you always knew that if there was anything you wanted that we didn’t have here, I’d find a way to get it for you.”
“Of course I knew that. You got me my bug, right?”
“That silly car,” he said, shaking his head with mirth, the same way he had on the day he drove it into the driveway as a surprise for her birthday.
“What more could I want with you, five wonderful kids, two adorable grandbabies, our friends and the business? Heck, even my sister and her family ended up here after they came to visit and fell in love with the place.”
“Which gave you someone besides me to bicker with every day.”
Linda snorted out a laugh. “So true.” She ran a hand over his chest and looked up at him. “I want to tell you something I’m sorry about.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What do you have to be sorry about?”
“The day of the accident… That morning…I was late for a hair appointment, and you were in the shower. I left without even saying good-bye. All I could think about during the long hours at the clinic was what if that was the last chance I’d ever have to talk to you, to kiss you, to tell you I love you, and I’d missed it?”
“We’d both gotten complacent about that stuff. I was just as guilty about coming and going without a thought as to what might happen.”
“We can’t do that anymore. If we’ve learned nothing else from the accident, it’s that we never know what’s going to happen. I think about that call from Stephanie… You could’ve been taken from me so suddenly… I may never get over that.”