by Marie Force
“You’re brilliant, but I can’t afford to pay you for today.”
“That’s okay. I wasn’t doing anything, and this’ll be fun.” She held out one of the outfits to Tiffany. “Shall we?”
Tiffany thought for a minute about how Blaine had promised to “punish” her if she strutted her sexy wares in public again, but with all the racers heading back into port due to the fog, she’d be crazy not to try to drum up some business. She also considered what Royal Atkinson and the rest of the town council, as well as her landlord and vindictive ex-husband, might have to say about it and decided she didn’t care. She had the same right as everyone else to earn a living in this town, and their threats weren’t going to stop her.
“I’m in.”
Blaine pulled into the pharmacy parking lot and took a moment to gather himself before he walked into the store. He hated having to do this kind of thing. Thankfully, it didn’t happen very often on the island—nowhere near as often as it had in his past job when he’d often had to tell people their loved ones had been hurt or worse. That Mac and his brothers were his good friends made today even more difficult.
He found Grace in the back of the store at the pharmacy counter.
She smiled when she saw him coming. “Morning, Blaine. How are you?”
“I’m…ah, could I speak with you for a minute? In private?”
She tuned right into his distress, and her smile faded as she came down the steps to meet him. “What’s wrong?”
He took her aside away from customers. “The boat Evan is on.”
“What about it?” she asked, taking a step back from him as if to escape from whatever he was about to say.
“There was an accident. The boat was hit by a freighter… Grace. Grace!” He reached out and caught her as she fainted. “Someone call 911.”
By the time the ambulance arrived a few minutes later, Grace was awake and crying hysterically.
“What happened?” a female voice asked Blaine as the paramedics talked to Grace. “I’m Jenny Wilks, a friend of Grace’s.”
Blaine told her about the accident and that Grace had fainted.
“I’ll stay with her,” Jenny said.
Relieved to have help, Blaine said, “Everyone is gathering at McCarthy’s Marina.”
“I’ll get her there as soon as she’s able.”
“Thank you very much. Tell her to stay strong, and I’ll see her later.”
Blaine left the pharmacy, dreading that he had to go through this twice more. On the way to the hair salon where he hoped to find Mrs. McCarthy, he tried to call Tiffany’s cell phone and the store line to let her know her sister needed her. When she didn’t answer either time, he wondered if she’d changed her mind about going to work and decided to run by the store after he located Mrs. McCarthy.
At the Curl Up and Dye salon on Ocean Road, he found Linda mid-dye and having an animated conversation with the owner, Chloe Dennis, who also cut his hair twice a year, if that.
“Hey, Blaine,” Chloe said when he walked in. “Did Mayor Upton finally wear you down and talk you into a haircut?” She was tall and curvy, and her hair color changed with her moods. Today she was a redhead.
“Not yet,” he said, glancing at Mrs. McCarthy.
“Everything all right?” Linda asked.
“I’m sorry to say it isn’t.”
“Not my husband,” she said with a hand over her heart.
“No, it’s the boys.”
To her credit, Linda maintained her composure. “What about them?”
Blaine told her about the accident.
Chloe gasped and put a comforting hand on Linda’s shoulder.
“I need to be with my husband.” Linda started yanking foils out of her hair. When she was done, she stood and pulled off the black cape. To Blaine, she said, “Can you take me to him?”
“I will,” Chloe said. “I’ll take you wherever you need to go, Linda.”
“He’s at the marina,” Blaine said. “I need to see Maddie, and then I’ll be there.”
“Thank you for letting me know,” Linda said.
Concerned about her eerie calm, Blaine exchanged glances with Chloe.
“I’ll take care of her,” Chloe whispered.
“Thanks.” Since the salon was only two blocks from Tiffany’s store, Blaine left the truck and walked, staring out at the fog as he went, imagining his friends fighting for their lives in the midst of it. Were they injured or worse? Were they conscious? He doubted any of them had been wearing lifejackets, as they were all experienced yachtsmen. At times like this, Blaine wished he were more religious, because it would take an act of God to bring them all back safely. What if the McCarthys lost three of their sons? That thought didn’t bear entertaining, so Blaine refused to go there.
He was half a block from Tiffany’s store when he stopped abruptly on the sidewalk, shocked to see her prancing around outside the store with Patty. And what the hell were they wearing? Sailor suits? If you could call them “suits.” Tiny scraps of fabric held together with a square knot placed strategically between two sets of full breasts. His cock stood up for a better look at Tiffany, but he willed it into submission by allowing in the anger. He’d told her he didn’t want her doing that! A crowd of men had gathered to watch the two women as they teased and flirted and tried to entice customers into the store.
The squeal of car tires tore his attention off her as two cars narrowly avoided colliding in front of the store.
All the stress and emotion of the last hour bubbled to the surface, filling him with fury as he covered the remaining distance, laser focused on Tiffany. As if he was outside himself watching someone else, he grabbed her arm and marched her into the store, slamming the door in Patty’s face as she scrambled after them.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Tiffany asked, outraged as she pulled her arm free.
Blaine hadn’t been this angry since he heard about what Eden had been up to while he worked nights. “What did I tell you about that?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a grown woman who can do whatever she wants, and the last thing I need is another man in my life thinking he can call all the shots while I watch passively from the sidelines.”
He took her hand and pulled her over to the window. “See those guys over there?” Pointing to the crowd of randy, leering young bucks who’d gathered on the sidewalk, Blaine said, “They’re all picturing you naked right now.”
“So what? They’re never going to see me naked.”
“You’re goddamned right they’re not.”
“Neither will you if you don’t get out of here right now.”
He pulled his citation book from his back pocket. “Not until I cite you for public indecency.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Blaine knew he’d probably regret throwing his official weight around, but at the moment, he was too damned mad to care about repercussions. “Don’t act like I didn’t warn you. The mayor has been all over me about your ‘advertising’ strategies, and you’ve given me no choice.”
“You absolutely have a choice.”
He pulled two pages from his book. “A citation for you and a warning for Patty. Now put on some clothes and quit creating a nuisance.”
Right before his eyes, Tiffany tore the citations into tiny pieces and sprinkled them like confetti at his feet.
“You’re just begging me to arrest you.”
She held out her hands. “Go for it.”
“If I didn’t have much bigger problems at the moment, I would, so count yourself lucky.”
When she stuck her tongue out at him, it was all he could do not to take her up on the blatant invitation.
“You need to put on some clothes.”
“I have clothes on.” Tiffany put her hands on her barely covered hips and met his mulish stare with an even more mulish stare of her own.
“That,” he said, gesturing to the suggestive outfit, “does not count as
clothes.”
“Everything is covered.”
“Not covered enough.”
“I asked you to leave.”
“Not until you change.”
“I’m not changing, and you’re leaving.”
“Mac and his brothers are missing.” The moment the words left his mouth, Blaine felt like a total ass for telling her that way. “That’s what I was coming to tell you.”
Her lips parted, and her eyes filled with tears. “What do you mean missing?”
Blaine told her about the crash with the freighter. “There’s one confirmed fatality, but we’re keeping that info close until we know more.”
She bolted for the changing room. “Oh God, I’ve got to get to Maddie. Does she know?”
“Not unless one of the others called her.”
Tiffany emerged from the dressing room wearing jeans and a formfitting T-shirt that Blaine didn’t like much better than the skimpy sailor suit. The woman was too sexy for her own good—and his. When she reached for her purse and keys on the counter, her hands were shaking so badly she dropped the keys.
“I’ll drive you,” he said.
“I can drive myself.”
“Tiffany, you’re upset. Let me take you.”
“Not if you’re going to lecture me about how I choose to run my business.”
“I won’t say another word about it—for now. We’ll talk about it later.”
“Fine. I’ll let you take me to my sister.” She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and hit a number on speed dial. “Mom, I need you to get Ashleigh and Thomas from camp and meet me at Maddie’s.” Tiffany told her mother what’d happened as she followed Blaine from the store. On the sidewalk, she stopped to tell Patty she was in charge at the store for the rest of the day.
“You got it, boss.”
On the way to Maddie’s house, the unusual silence between them grated on Blaine’s already frayed nerves. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”
“I can’t even imagine what’ll become of my sister if he’s dead.”
“He can’t be dead. He’s too vital and too stubborn to die.”
“Do you really think so?” she asked, turning to him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw tears rolling down her cheeks and pulled the car over to the side of the road. “Come here.” He held out his arms to her and was relieved when she allowed him to comfort her. “Try not to think the worst until we know more.”
“It doesn’t sound good, though, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t.” He rubbed his hand over her back. “Try to get yourself together. She’s going to need you.”
“Yes, you’re right.” She wiped away the tears. “She’s always there for me, so I need to be there for her.”
“That’s the way. Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Chapter 24
Three hours later, a subdued group waited for news at McCarthy’s Marina. The unusual quiet in the normally boisterous group told the story of how concerned everyone was.
Big Mac paced relentlessly from one end of the restaurant to the other while Luke kept a watchful eye on him, as if he was waiting for the older man to make a break for his boat to go aid in the search.
In between bouts of weeping, Stephanie cooked for everyone, saying it helped her to stay busy. Grace, Jenny, Laura and Sydney helped her while Joe stood behind Janey, massaging her shoulders and trying to keep her calm.
Seamus O’Grady and Carolina Cantrell came rushing into the restaurant.
“We just heard,” Carolina said as she embraced Linda and then Big Mac. “What can we do?”
“All we’re allowed to do is wait,” Big Mac said, sounding angrier than he had all day. “I’m supposed to sit here and wait and do nothing while my boys are out there possibly fighting for their lives!”
Kara, who was sitting next to Linda, began to cry softly.
Linda slipped an arm around Kara and patted her shoulder.
“There has to be something we can do,” Owen said. He’d done almost as much pacing as Big Mac.
“The fog is as bad as it was earlier,” Seamus said. “Anyone heading out in it would only be adding to the coast guard’s burden.”
“He’s right,” Joe said. “As hard as it is, we have to wait. They’re doing everything they can.”
“They’re going to be fine,” Linda said, and all heads turned to her.
“How do you know that?” her husband asked.
“If they were gone, I’d know,” she said with her hand resting on her heart. “I’d know.” She went over to her husband and took his hand. “Come sit by me while I call Adam. We need to let him know what’s going on.”
Big Mac let his wife lead him to a table away from the others to make the call to their son in New York.
By the time another hour came and went, most of the townspeople had gathered at McCarthy’s to wait for news.
Blaine took advantage of the opportunity for a moment alone with Royal Atkinson. The rotund town councilman gave Blaine an earful about how he could be doing more to keep the “damned kids” from drinking on the town beach.
“You’re absolutely right, Royal. I’ll put some more people on that problem as soon as I figure out what to do about the drunks pouring out of the bars and the moped accidents, not to mention the regular occurrences of domestic violence, the break-ins at the empty summer homes—”
“All right, boy,” Royal grunted. “No need to get cheeky. I get your point.”
“We’ve got a lot of issues on this island—important issues that require the cooperation of all the town’s leaders.”
“I don’t disagree.”
“Then why are you wasting the council’s time trying to run off an honest, tax-paying businesswoman?”
“You talking about that smut shop in town?”
Blaine made an effort to keep his cool. “It’s not a smut shop. Have you been there?”
“I have not,” he said indignantly.
“Maybe you ought to at least stop by and see what it’s about before you decide she’s got no right to be there.”
Royal thought about that for a moment. “I suppose I should do that.”
“Think of it this way—if she’s a big success, the town benefits from the tax revenue. Couldn’t we use some additional revenue?”
“We’re always in need of more money,” he conceded.
“Don’t be too quick to run her off. I think she’s sitting on a gold mine over there.”
Royal’s eyes lit up at the words “gold mine.” “Is that right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, maybe I’ve been a bit…hasty in my judgments.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that. Shall I tell Ms. Sturgil she won’t have to worry about facing the council on Monday?”
“Even though Mayor Upton tried to remove it from the agenda because of something to do with his wife, it’s too late to take it off now. We’ve already publicized the agenda.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” Blaine’s mind immediately began to race as he thought about how Tiffany might approach the council meeting. As much as she angered him with her advertising, he didn’t want to see her lose the store she’d worked so hard on.
“Don’t get me wrong, I like a pretty young thing as much as the next guy—”
Blaine’s hand rolled into a fist. “I get it, Royal. Enough said.”
“Tell me the truth, Chief. You got a shine for that pretty gal?”
Blaine continued to hold back the urge to punch the lusty look Royal directed at Tiffany off his face. “You could say that.”
“You’re a lucky man.”
When something tugged on his pants leg, Blaine looked down to find Ashleigh staring up at him with Tiffany’s big eyes. Ned and Francine had dropped her off at the marina after she had cried for her mother earlier.
She raised her arms to him. “Up.”
Charmed, Blaine reached down and lifted
her. The smile she gave him, full of satisfaction after having gotten what she wanted, made him grin for the first time in hours. She would cause her mother a lot of trouble in a few years.
“Excuse me, Royal. This pretty girl requires my attention, and I never say no to pretty girls.”
Ashleigh giggled at him.
“By all means, Chief,” Royal said. “Don’t let me keep you.”
“How are you today, Ms. Ashleigh?” Blaine asked as he moved away from the nosy councilman. He felt the eyes of everyone else on him as he held Tiffany’s daughter. After this, everyone would probably know they were together, which was fine with him—as long as he could convince her to cut out the sex-kitten act in town. Otherwise, they had a possibly insurmountable problem. He’d be goddamned if he would allow his woman to behave that way in public.
His woman… When had he begun to think of her that way? If he were being truthful, probably the first time he ever laid eyes on her.
“I’m sad,” Ashleigh said, drawing him out of his ponderings. “I miss Uncle Mac.”
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”
As she popped her thumb in her mouth and rested her head on his shoulder, Blaine breathed in the sweet strawberry scent of her shampoo. Like mother, like daughter. Across the room, Blaine caught Tiffany watching them. She’d been by her sister’s side every minute since they broke the news about the accident to Maddie. Like her mother-in-law, Maddie had been rock-solid in her conviction that if Mac were dead, she’d know it. Her cool calm in the face of crisis had been admirable.
Blaine watched as Maddie got up abruptly and rushed outside.
Tiffany followed her, glancing at Blaine to make sure he still had Ashleigh. He waved at her to go ahead and found a seat.
“Are you sad, too?” Ashleigh asked with her thumb still in her mouth.
“I’m more worried than sad.”
“Do you like my mommy?”
Amused by the shift in topic, Blaine said, “I like your mommy very much.”
“She’s a nice mommy.”
“Yes, she is.”
“And a pretty mommy.”
“Very pretty.”
“You’re nice, too.”
“Thank you,” Blaine said with a smile. Could she be any more adorable?