by Marie Force
“Could I borrow you for one minute?” Grant asked when her ring was firmly in place.
Stephanie closed her fingers around his. “That’s about all I have.”
Grant led her around the corner, out of the hubbub.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Everything is great.” He drew her in close to him and planted a lingering kiss on her lips. “I wanted to wish you luck and tell you how very proud I am of you. Look at this place.” He pointed to the dining room, which shimmered in the light of a hundred candles. “You did it, babe.”
Overwhelmed by emotion, she leaned her forehead on his chest. “I couldn’t have done it without your love and your support, not to mention your money.”
“That’s your money, earned fair and square.”
Grant had paid her and Charlie a boatload for the rights to their story, and sometimes Stephanie had to remind herself that the days of counting every penny to pay lawyers to plead her stepfather’s case were over now. Charlie was free and living nearby on the island, working at the hotel and contributing—sparingly but regularly—to Grant’s story. At times, Stephanie wanted to pinch herself to believe the changes to her life that had occurred in the last year had actually happened and weren’t part of a lovely dream.
She owed most of her recent happiness to the man in her arms, who’d hired his friend Dan to help free Charlie and welcomed her into his family and his home. Most important, Grant had given her unconditional love, something she’d never had from anyone other than her beloved stepfather.
“Thank you,” she said, looking up at Grant.
He seemed genuinely perplexed. “For what?”
“My whole life changed the day I met you. I had no idea it was possible to be this happy.”
His sexy smile lit up his face. He took her hands and brought them to his lips. “Your happiness makes me happy. Now, my love, you need to go get ready to knock ’em dead tonight. If there’s anything I can do to help, you know where I’ll be.”
“Don’t worry about helping after you greet the guests with Shane. You’ve already done enough. Have a good time.”
“Speaking of good times, Mac asked me about joining him on one of the boats that’s racing tomorrow. Apparently, the captain’s crew is down with the flu, and he needs some stand-ins so he doesn’t have to forfeit the whole regatta. Do you care if I go?”
“I don’t mind at all. I plan to sleep in and take one last full day off before we open to the public.”
“Great, thanks.” He gave her another kiss. “We’ll have our own private celebration later.”
“You’re on.”
“I love you,” he said, giving her a tight hug.
“Love you, too. Thanks for propping me up during all of this.”
“Propping you up is one of my favorite things to do.”
He left her with one of his hundred-watt smiles and went to help his cousin Shane welcome their guests.
Since she never tired of the elegant way he moved, she watched him walk away and then went to get changed.
What had seemed like such a good idea earlier in the day became more and more preposterous as the clock edged closer to seven. Sarah’s hands shook as she attempted to apply mascara, something she hadn’t done in years. She’d bought a few cosmetics at Ryan’s pharmacy so she wouldn’t look like an old hag when Charlie came to pick her up. But if her hands didn’t quit shaking, she’d have the mascara everywhere but on her eyelashes.
The frustration built to overwhelming levels, until she finally threw the wand into the sink. “This is ridiculous,” she said to her reflection. “You are ridiculous. What business do you have going out with a man when you’re not even divorced yet from the monster you married?”
Except the part of her that hadn’t forgotten the giddy sensations that came with new love refused to be silenced. She couldn’t help but be curious about Charlie, especially after seeing a hint of the man who might be lurking under his gruff exterior. After nearly forty years married to the wrong man, was it too late to start over with someone else?
She smoothed a trembling hand over the one good dress she’d brought with her to the island and hoped the dark pink silk wasn’t too fancy for opening night at the restaurant. Taking another critical look at her reflection, Sarah decided she didn’t look too bad for an old gal. She cleaned up the mess the mascara wand had made in the sink and sprayed on a spritz of her favorite perfume.
Now, if only she could make her hands stop shaking before Charlie showed up.
Because she didn’t know what else to do with herself, she sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. After years of social events tied to her husband’s illustrious career, Sarah knew how to perch just so to keep from wrinkling her dress. It was one of the few useful skills she’d taken away from her life as a general’s wife. Most of the other lessons she’d happily forget if only she could.
At times, she wondered if he missed her or if he merely missed having someone to knock around when the rages overtook him. Knowing him, he’d probably found someone new to victimize. No way would he have gone this long without sex, so it was likely some other poor woman was learning the hard way that Mark Lawry was hardly the charming retired army officer he wanted the rest of the world to think he was. She and her children knew much better.
A pervasive sense of sadness tried to settle over her, but a gentle knock on the door pushed those thoughts away. Tonight wasn’t a time for sadness. It was a time for new beginnings and new friends and a whole new life. Dwelling on her painful past was pointless and counterproductive.
Sarah stood and willed her trembling legs to cross the room. She almost didn’t recognize the clean-shaven, well-dressed man outside her door. He looked so different she actually had to blink to be sure she wasn’t imagining him. “You clean up nicely.”
“Same to you,” he said, his eyes taking a slow and appreciative journey from her face to her knees and back up again to meet her gaze. “Very nice indeed.”
His praise and the not-so-subtle interest behind his words sent a flash of heat through her that settled between her legs, reminding her that while her marriage might be dead, she was still very much alive and still very much a woman.
Charlie extended an arm to her. “Shall we?”
Sarah didn’t hesitate when she curled her hand into the crook of his elbow. “By all means.”
Blaine settled Tiffany in his bed, and pulled a light blanket over her. Her dark hair fanned out on his pillow as her sweet lips moved adorably in her sleep the way Ashleigh’s did. She’d thought he’d be disgusted by how she looked, but to him, she was beautiful all the time, even when sick.
Keeping the bedside light on so she’d be able to find the bathroom if she got up, he went to the kitchen and located an old plastic bowl that he put on the bed next to her, in case she needed it.
Over the next couple of hours, he made a sandwich and drank a couple of beers, watched a few innings of the Red Sox game and reviewed some reports he’d brought home from the office. By nine o’clock, he could no longer take knowing she was asleep in his bed while he was in the next room acting like it didn’t matter that she was asleep in his bed.
He took a long, cold shower to remind himself that this night was about comfort and not about sex before he slid in next to her and wrapped an arm around her. Damn, she was still blazing hot with fever.
While he knew he should try to get her to take something for the fever, he was afraid her ravaged stomach wouldn’t be able to handle it.
She turned over and curled up to him, her face pressed against his chest.
The implied trust she conveyed by reaching for him in her sleep set off a chain reaction of emotion in him. She was so damned sweet, even if she wanted the rest of the world to see her bitter, edgy side. He’d seen the sweetness, but he adored snarky, sarcastic Tiffany, too. Blaine smoothed a hand over her hair, hoping she’d sleep off the worst of the bug overnight.
He must’ve dozed off
, waking when she moaned in her sleep.
“Tiffany,” he whispered.
Her eyes opened, and she blinked him into focus.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded.
“Need anything?”
“Maybe some water. I’m so thirsty.”
“Coming right up.” He released her to get up and retrieve ice water from the kitchen. When he returned to the bedroom, he helped her sit up and held the glass for her.
She took a couple of greedy sips. “That’s good.”
“Take it slow. You don’t want to get your stomach going again.”
As if it had heard him, her stomach let out a huge growl that made them laugh.
“That’s attractive,” Tiffany said. “In fact, I must be knocking your socks off with how attractive I am right now.”
Blaine leaned in and kissed her square on the lips. “You’re gorgeous, even when you’re sick.”
“Sure I am.”
“Would I lie to you?”
“I don’t know. Would you?”
Even though they’d been joking around, he sensed that she expected a serious answer. “Never.”
“That’s good to know,” she said with a small smile that told him how much his one-word answer had meant to her.
“How about some crackers to see if your stomach can handle a little food?”
“Earlier, I thought I’d never eat again, but now crackers sound good, I feel a hundred times better than I did before.”
“That’s good. Be right back.” He returned a minute later with a box of oyster crackers and a couple of painkillers to combat the fever, which she took with another big swallow of water. “This was the best I could do,” he said of the oyster crackers.
“I love them.”
Propped on pillows, he sat next to her and held the box while she munched on a handful of the small crackers.
“This makes me want clam chowder,” she said.
“A sure sign that you’re on the road to recovery.”
“No kidding. A few hours ago and the words ‘clam chowder’ would’ve made me puke.”
“If it makes you feel any better, the flu is taking the island by storm. I’ve heard of at least two dozen cases.”
“Lucky me.”
He took her hand and linked their fingers. “Lucky me. I get to take care of you.”
“It’s all part of your devious plot to make yourself essential to me.”
“How am I doing so far?”
“Pretty good.”
“Only pretty good? That’s disappointing.”
He loved listening to her laugh, loved the way her eyes danced with mischief and her lips pursed in thought. There were a lot of things he loved about her, he realized in a moment of clarity.
“Why did you suddenly get all serious?” she asked, mimicking his expression.
“Did I?”
She nodded. “What’re you thinking about?”
Blaine chose his words carefully so as not to drive her away by getting too serious too fast. “I was thinking that I like being with you like this.”
“When there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell of sex?”
That made him laugh. “Even then.”
Chapter 18
Owen gently shook Laura awake. She’d been asleep for hours, and he could no longer pacify Holden, who needed to be fed.
“Laura,” he whispered.
Holden’s hungry cries escalated to piercing shrieks that roused his mother from a deep sleep.
“Is he okay?” she asked, her voice rough and sleepy sounding.
“He’s hungry. Should I make him a bottle?”
“No, I can feed him.” She pushed herself into an upright position. “I hope I won’t be getting him sick if I feed him.”
“Wouldn’t he already be exposed?”
“I suppose I’ve exposed you both.”
“And wasn’t that fun?” Owen said with a grin.
Laura smiled as she unbuttoned the front of her nightgown, and the baby latched on as if he hadn’t eaten in a week rather than a few hours. The sight of her breastfeeding the baby never failed to stir Owen’s most protective instincts. “Thanks for taking care of him.”
“It’s my pleasure to take care of him. We played with some blocks and had a workout on the baby gym. Pumped some iron. Guy stuff. You wouldn’t get it.”
“Glad you got in some male bonding time. How are things downstairs?”
“Seems to be going well. Stephanie got a great crowd.”
“Are people checking out the guest rooms we opened?”
“We’ve had a steady stream of visitors on the second floor. Holden and I went down to take a look a little while ago and answered a few questions.”
Laura frowned and ran a hand over the baby’s head. “I should be down there.”
“My mom and Charlie and Shane are leading people through the rooms. Don’t worry.”
“It should be me.”
“You’re sick, honey. Half the island has the same bug, so don’t feel bad. In fact, Stephanie had to recruit Grace, Jenny and Sydney to fill in for three of the servers who have it.”
“Everyone is having fun while I’m stuck in bed. It’s not fair.”
Owen leaned in to kiss the pout off her lips.
“Don’t kiss me! I don’t want you to get it!”
“Far too late to worry about that. Besides, I never get sick.” He patted his belly. “Iron gut.”
“You can join the party if you want. He’ll be down for the night after he eats, and I’m fine.”
Owen stretched out next to her on the bed. “I’m right where I want to be.”
Over the nursing baby’s head, her gaze met his. “If that’s the case, then why do you look so pensive?”
“Do I?”
She nodded.
“Hmm, I didn’t think it showed.”
“Maybe not to anyone else, but I know you, and I can tell by now when something is troubling you.”
It was, Owen mused, at times astonishing and confounding to be so in tune with another person. Since he’d never had that kind of connection before, he was still getting used to it. “My mom.”
“What about her?”
“She’s on a date with Charlie.”
Laura gasped and startled the baby. She took advantage of the opportunity to switch sides. When she had the baby settled again, she placed her free hand on Owen’s chest. “How do you feel about that?”
“I’m happy for her, but I’m worried, too.”
“About what?”
“That she’s not ready to start something new. It hasn’t been that long since everything happened with my dad, and I’m so afraid of her getting hurt again.”
“I don’t know Charlie all that well, but he seems like a very nice man. He’s a hard worker, and Stephanie thinks the world of him. That should count for something.”
“It does. It counts for a lot. Still…”
“She’s your mom, she’s been through an awful ordeal and you’re allowed to worry about her. But you have to let her spread her wings. She’s got a lot of time to make up for, and so does Charlie. In some ways, she was just as imprisoned as he was.”
“That’s very true.”
“Does Charlie’s past bother you?”
“Not so much. I’ll tell you what I told her—she was married to a guy who everyone thought was a hero but should’ve been in prison. And then there’s Charlie who, to hear Stephanie tell it, saved her life and learned that no good deed goes unpunished. Which one would I rather see her with? Charlie. No question about that.”
“I like that, and it’s so true. We might be getting ahead of ourselves anyway. It’s one night.”
“Have you noticed the way he looks at her?”
Laura glanced over at him, hesitantly. “Maybe.”
“I suspect it’s going to be more than one date.”
“I suspect you might be right.”
Play it cool. That wa
s Dan’s strategy for the evening with Kara. Don’t act too interested or too charming or too anything. It had taken weeks of effort to get her into his car, and he was petrified he’d say or do something to ruin his chances before he could get to know her better. And he desperately wanted to know her better.
The car itself might’ve been his first misstep of the evening. Unlike the women he dated in LA, she hadn’t seemed impressed by the convertible Porsche he’d spent an ungodly amount of money to have shipped to the island. Some things a guy shouldn’t have to live without, and his car was definitely one of them.
In hindsight, he realized the car contributed to her already formed impression of him as a pretentious climber who cared more about things than he did about people. He’d considered telling her the truth about his work, but he decided to save that ace for when—not if—he needed some points.
The car had a story all its own behind it that he’d like to share with her at some point if the opportunity presented itself.
“Nice car,” she said after a protracted period of silence that did nothing to settle his nerves. He’d been reeling from the second she opened the door and he caught sight of her in the incredible red dress. And her hair…it was so smooth and shiny, falling in soft waves around her face. As he’d suspected, underneath her tomboy exterior lurked a very sexy woman.
“Thanks.” Why not tell her, he thought. He wanted her to know him—really know him. “It was my brother’s.” Even all these years later, the pain still took him by surprise. “He was an army ranger, killed in Afghanistan in 2005.”
She rested her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Dan.”
“Thanks. It was a long time ago.”
“I… I thought…”
“What?”
“My first thought was that the car is pretentious, and now I feel terrible for thinking that.”