Half Moon Harbor

by Donna Kauffman

  He tied up and joined her on the deck as Whomper trotted over and gave her a warm, wriggling welcome.

  “Hey, there. Check out the new first mate!” Grace knelt down and gave him a good head scratch, then laughed as she added a belly scratch to the deal when he rolled over, still wriggling in delight. She scooped him up and hugged him, burying her face in his fur, keeping it there for a few extra seconds until he started to squirm. “Okay, okay. Go back to your duties.” Her laugh was a bit watery sounding as she let him go and stood again.

  “Hey.” Brodie stood behind her. He touched her arm and turned her. “It’s okay, you know.”

  “What is?” she asked, a sniffle escaping even though she was clearly trying to pretend she wasn’t teary-eyed and emotional.

  “It was a big thing ye did.” He reached up and gently touched her cheek, rubbing away a tear or two. “A very emotional thing. I’m no expert on tears. In fact, they scare the life out of me. But I’m thinkin’ you shouldn’t have to work at keeping them at bay. Maybe letting them go is the thing to do.”

  “You say you’re not good at relationship stuff,” she said, turning a little pink when her snuffle ended up as a rather inelegant snort. “But if that’s true, you do a damn good imitation of someone who is.”

  “I just don’t want to see you struggle with this more than you have to. Tears kill me. In fact, I’d do just about anything to keep you from crying, so this is largely selfish on my part. If letting them out gets us to a no-more-crying place faster, then let ’em rip. That’s what I say.”

  She laughed and sniffled at the same time. “You’re so full of shit.” Her smile started to crumple as the threat of real tears started to win the battle. “And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”

  “Och, darling lass, come here.” He pulled her into his arms and held on tight, sighing when her arms snaked around his waist and she held him just as tightly.

  “I don’t know why I’m crying,” she said, her forehead pressed into his shoulder, even as her own shoulders began to shake. “It went so much better than I’d hoped.”

  Brodie had arrived and dropped anchor just in time to see the two siblings hug on the docks. Or more to the point, in time to see Grace run and hug her brother as he walked away. It had taken surprising restraint for Brodie to keep from heading straight to the pier and taking Ford Maddox on, demanding to know why he couldn’t find it in his heart to take better care of what she was offering him. Brodie had no idea what the real backstory was between the two, and for all he knew, Ford was well within his rights to hold himself separate and apart.

  But from what Brodie knew of Grace, the kind of person she was, and what she’d sacrificed and risked to start over in the Cove for the sole sake of reuniting her family, he had a hard time believing Ford would have a moral leg to stand on. And he’d have an even harder time if I took him out at the knees, he remembered thinking.

  Then Ford had reciprocated. If the way he’d grabbed and held on to his sister was any indication, he did it with fierce emotion. He’d walked away, leaving her standing there. Grace had continued to talk to him, though Ford hadn’t looked back.

  Still, it was a beginning. One she seemed pleased with.

  Brodie couldn’t help but wonder if she would be equally open-minded with his news. He’d be happy with anything short of gunfire.

  Grace pulled herself together and wiped at her eyes, but he kept her in his arms. “We don’t have to head right back. Take your time.” He leaned back a bit and tipped his head so he could look into her eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head and said, “Yes,” at the same time, making him smile and her croak out another watery laugh.

  “I actually understand that better than you can imagine. I remember getting so mad at my younger sisters. They’d torment the hell out of me, then pull the innocent act when I finally retaliated. I’d get the punishment while they got the ‘there, there’s.’ Infuriating enough, but then I’d go off to bang on wood at my grandfather’s and he’d make me talk about it.”

  “The horror,” Grace said, smiling at him, her hands on his shoulders, her fingertips toying with the hair brushing his neck.

  “Talking about my feelings,” Brodie said with a mock shudder. “Some of the best conversations I had with him started that way. He shared a lot of wisdom with me, which of course I didn’t come to appreciate or even understand until much later.”

  “And here I was crediting your sisters with your enlightenment, but maybe it’s the Monaghan men who really have it together.”

  His eyebrows lifted a bit at that, but he merely grinned and shook his head. “No’ that it’s completely unheard of for an Irishman to wear his heart on his sleeve, but usually you have to ply him with a pint or three to get him maudlin and pouring his heart out.” He brushed her hair from her cheek, then rubbed away one last tear track. “I’m pretty sure I’m simply winging it, as they say, but my grandfather would be proud indeed to think he had any hand in helping me figure out relationships, women, and how to keep both of them happy and functioning together in the same sentence. He was married to my grandmother for forty years before she passed and never stopped loving her.”

  “That alone sounds like quite a testament to figuring out women and relationships,” Grace said, her smile turning wistful. “I wasn’t so fortunate. In fact, I can say with fair certainty that you know way more about family, women, and relationships than I do. Well, other than being a woman myself.”

  He framed her face, held her gaze, and realized that when they stood like that, connecting gazes like that, no matter what position they happened to be in at the time, something simply . . . settled in him. As if everything was always bouncing around inside his mind, ideas spinning in ten different directions, except in those moments. Then he felt, well . . . grounded. Like there was a foundation underneath everything. It didn’t stop the constant hamster wheel of work and design and the myriad demands of life in general that were always running through his mind, but it made him feel that at least they wouldn’t run away with him. There was a stepping-off point. A reason to slow down, to put things in perspective. An entirely new perspective.

  “You can tell me anythin’,” he said, searching her eyes, wanting, needing some kind of confirmation, some sign that he wasn’t alone in thinking they could build something solid and sound between them. “Ye know that, right?” He tipped her face up to his and dropped a kiss on one salty cheek, then the other. “I may not always have the right words in response, but it won’t be for not wanting to understand or offer support.”

  He felt the shaky breath she took even more than he heard it.

  She’d closed her eyes when he’d kissed her tear tracks, and it took a moment longer before she opened them again. “You know, I thought the scariest thing I could ever do in my adult life was going to see my brother. Don’t get me wrong, it was pretty terrifying. Amazing and thrilling and . . . so many other things,” she added in a rush, smiling even as her eyes went glassy all over again. “And yet, terrifying all the same. But . . . uh . . .” She trailed off, looked down briefly, and cleared the tightness from her throat.

  Brodie gently tipped up her chin. “Grace,” he said quietly, “it’s been a big day. Ye don’t need to—”

  “I do. I need you to know that you—this—scares me, too. More, even. My brother will always be my brother, no matter what happens between us. But you . . .” She searched his gaze as if struggling to find the right words and maybe looking for the same confirmation he was. “You’re becoming someone I find myself counting on.” She looked at her hands locked around his neck and pressed her fingers to the nape of his neck, then looked back at him. “Leaning on.”

  He felt like something perfect blossomed all big and warm inside his chest. “Is that such a bad thing?” he asked, his voice a bit gruff.

  “I-I don’t know. If you’d asked me a year ago or even a month ago, I’d have said absolutely. Counting
on anyone but myself is just asking to make things harder later. Better to always be in charge of myself, handle everything myself. Then the only one who can disappoint me, is me.”

  “I have a passing knowledge of that feeling,” he said, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

  “See, that’s part of it, too. In so many ways, we’re very, very different. Our backgrounds, the way we are with other people—you’re so naturally social and outgoing and I’m perfectly happy to be in my office alone, no people. You charm people as naturally as breathing, where I refer to it as having to make nice.”

  He did smile then and slid his hands down her back to her waist, drawing her closer. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve found ye to be a pretty friendly sort.”

  She tugged on a piece of his hair and made a face at him.

  “Ow!” He chuckled.

  “It’s a good thing one of the things we have in common is our sense of humor,” she added archly.

  “Aye, indeed.” He rubbed the back of his neck, then quickly pulled her in again when she would have ducked away. “Tell me the rest then.”

  “In other ways, we’re a lot alike. Not so obvious or tangible ways, but . . . we get each other. You wouldn’t think we would, and yet . . . you do. Get me, I mean. And I think I get you, too. At least you make me feel like I do.”

  He walked her back a few steps until they were under the awning and her hips bumped up against the teak panel next to the hatch that led belowdecks. He was smiling, but when he spoke, the words had never been so heartfelt. “When you look at me, Grace, you look into me. Past all the stuff that most folks see . . . and then you keep looking. Disconcerting is what it is.” He cupped her cheek. “But I’ve never felt anything like I do when you keep looking . . . and you’re okay with what you see.”

  Instead of melting, she thumped his chest. “And see? That’s exactly what I mean.”

  He leaned back, eyes wide. “What? What about that could possibly be wrong?”

  “It’s not. It’s impossibly right. That’s what I mean. You’re impossible. I’ve got this inn to build, which is turning into a major undertaking, then I have to figure out how to run the damn thing and make a success out of it. I’m completely swamped with all this emotional baggage with my brother, which we’ve only taken the tiniest first step in dealing with. Then you come along with your charming laugh and your sexy-as-hell dimples, flashing green eyes, a body that won’t quit, hands that—well, I can’t even go there—and on top of all that, you’re a good guy.” She thumped his shoulder with her palm again. “A really, really good guy.”

  “Um . . . how dare I?” He was honestly confused.

  “How am I not supposed to fall for you? How am I supposed to remain strong and in control and independent and not need anyone but myself when you’re out there having my back every damn second and making me want to get you naked half the time?”

  His heart resumed beating as her meaning began to sink in. He smiled. It might have been a grin. Hell, he was only a breath shy of letting out a war whoop. “Only half the time, luv? Then I’m clearly not doing something right.”

  “Oooh,” she said, pummeling her open palms on his shoulders, openly laughing because he’d picked her up and was bodily stuffing her through the hatch.

  “Mind your head,” he told her, then followed her down the ladder.

  She wriggled free when they got to the tiny galley, but he snagged her hand and walked backward toward the single berth, tugging her along with him.

  “Brodie, we can’t,” she said, but her eyes were dancing. “I mean, we’re out here in plain view of the island. My brother is on that island.”

  Brodie reeled her in, then turned neatly and captured her in the narrow passageway between his body and the wall. “Not exactly plain view . . . unless they have infrared tracking. Then we’ll show up.” He leaned in and kissed the side of her neck.

  She gasped, then moaned softly as he continued the gentle assault up to the lobe of her ear, then along the line of her jaw, finally letting her head roll to the side to give him greater access.

  “Heat-seeking devices,” he murmured against her chin, then pulled her bottom lip into his mouth, taking her mouth completely when she moaned more deeply.

  He drew her hands up the wall, pinning wrists beside her head as he took the kiss deeper, until they were both groaning.

  “You still want me to lift anchor?” he asked against her damp lips.

  She shook her head, slid her hands down until her palms were under his, and tugged his hands to her breasts. “I was kind of hoping for the opposite.”

  “See?” He grinned against her mouth. “You get me, too.”

  “Win-win.”

  She squealed when he scooped her up against him, conveniently bringing his mouth level with those very same breasts she’d been offering him.

  “Brodie—”

  He closed his mouth over one and suckled it, shirt and all. “Hmm?”

  “Nothing,” she gasped.

  He dipped so she didn’t hit her head on the hatch into the master berth that occupied the entire front end of the boat, then took them both straight down on the bed.

  “We really have to stop meeting like this,” she said, as he made quick work of her shirt and bra and she did the same with his T-shirt.

  “We do?” He rolled to his back, taking her with him until she straddled him; then he popped the button of her pants.

  “I’m not saying it’s not negotiable.” She gasped as he tugged her zipper in one short rip, then slid her out of her pants and panties by moving her up his body, over his chest, right to his—

  “Good argument.” Panting, she arched her back and grabbed hold of the headboard bolted to the wall as he teased her, then slid his tongue over her. “Excellent . . . point,” she panted, moving on him, groaning as he slid his tongue into her. “So many . . . excellent points.” The conversation ended on a long, very satisfied groan as those strong calves clamped against his shoulders while she shuddered against him.

  She was still shuddering as he slid her back down his body . . . and directly onto him. “I—Brodie—I can’t yet, it’s too—”

  “Shh,” he said, easing into her, groaning himself. She was so tight, still twitching. “Don’t let it stop, give up a little control,” he urged, nuzzling the side of her neck, then pushed the rest of the way in. “And let yourself—”

  She cried out as she arched into him, then convulsed around him all over again. She fell against him, her moans muffled against his shoulder as she clung to him and continued to come apart for him.

  “Aye, yes.” He held her, wrapped up against his chest, and let her move as she wanted, as she needed, gritting his teeth with restraint. She felt so damn good.

  She nipped his earlobe, and his will snapped. He rolled over, pulling her under him, and took her mouth as he took her. She lifted into him, took him, held him, and kissed him like he was the only thing keeping her connected to her next breath. He understood the feeling.

  When he came, growling, having given up every last shred of control, she bit his chin and growled back, “Aye, yes!”

  Chapter 19

  Grace pulled her leather satchel more tightly under her arm and pushed open the door to Delia’s. It was a small, old-fashioned diner perched on the high side of Harbor Street, just past Blue’s. The dining area and deck faced the water. Ostensibly, she was there to grab lunch and make use of the free Wi-Fi. She enjoyed the peace and quiet of the library, but the diner was filled with a fair number of familiar faces . . . as well as tourists. The chatter and clink of silverware on dishes and ice in glasses, along with the vibrant hum of conversation was inviting, rather than intrusive. Free Wi-Fi and good food.

  None of that mattered much since her stomach was so tense she’d be lucky to get down a glass of water at the moment.

  As she made her way to a free table in the back corner, some of the conversations paused and a few heads turned. All of them, she noted, be
longed to the locals. As she settled into a booth seat, she saw a woman—Jean Reisters, if Grace recalled her name correctly, who ran the jewelry store across from Owen’s hardware store—tug on the arm of the redhead who was presently laughing loudly and taking orders from a table full of tourists.

  The redhead glanced at Jean, then over her shoulder . . . right at Grace. Her smile faltered for a moment, then broadened. She said something to Jean, then turned back to the table she was waiting on and finished taking their order.

  Grace realized she was staring, so she turned her attention to getting her laptop out and looking over the menu, trying not to feel as if all eyes were on her, except she was pretty sure a good number of them were. Have folks heard about me and Brodie? Has his trip out to Sandpiper to get me made the local grapevine?

  She wouldn’t be surprised if it had. No doubt he was one of the Cove’s most eligible bachelors, so there would be talk about who he was . . . well, sleeping with, she supposed would be the way it would be seen. That was pretty much the only way it could be seen, given they hadn’t exactly dated like normal people. The fact that she’d bought property that had been in his family’s possession since the town’s inception might have something to do with the tongues presently wagging, as well. Maybe I should have stuck with the library after all.

  Except she wasn’t really there for a working lunch.

  “Hi. Grace, right?”