by Marie Force
“It’s different for mothers—”
“Like hell it is,” Mac growled. “We’ve heard more than enough. You do what you have to, but stay away from my family. You’ve got nothing we need.” Squeezing her shoulder, he said, “Come on, babe. Let’s go in.”
The second they were inside the house, she began to tremble uncontrollably, which infuriated Mac. He should’ve smashed the guy’s face in when he had the chance.
“Come here, baby,” Mac said, bringing her into his embrace. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”
She clung to him. “Why would he come here? Why does he want to see us? I don’t get it.”
“He’s feeling guilty, and he’s probably all alone.”
“Which is his own fault.”
“I’m sure he knows that.”
“God, Mac, what if he meant it when he said he won’t give Mom the divorce unless Tiffany and I—”
“Unless you and Tiffany do what?” Francine asked.
Mac and Maddie broke apart and turned to her.
“Nothing, Mom. It’s nothing.”
“Was your father here?”
Maddie seemed to be weighing what she should say to her mother.
Mac reached for her hand, nodding in encouragement.
“He…um, he said he wants to spend some time with Tiff and me or—”
“Or there’s no divorce,” Francine said. “Right?”
“Something like that.”
“Then there’ll be no divorce.”
“But then you and Ned can’t get married!”
Francine shrugged. “We’ll still get to spend every day together for the rest of our lives. We don’t need a piece of paper to make it official.”
Ned came up behind Francine and put his arm around her. “That’s right, doll. Fuck him and his divorce.”
As the other three laughed at Ned’s bluntness, Mac was filled with affection for the man who’d been like a second father to him and his siblings. He’d said just what the women needed to hear.
Francine embraced her daughter. “No matter what, you’re not spending any time with him. I’d never ask you to do that on my behalf.”
“What about me?” Tiffany asked as she joined them. “Do I have any say in the matter?”
“Honey,” Francine said, reaching out a hand to her younger daughter. “You don’t have to see him, either.”
“What if I want to?”
Francine was clearly caught off guard by the question.
“I have nothing of him,” Tiffany said. “Not a single memory. I know what he did was horrible, but I can’t help being curious about him.”
Francine considered that for a long moment. “Then you ought to see him if that’s what you feel you need to satisfy your curiosity.”
“And you wouldn’t mind?”
“Whatever you want to do is fine with me.”
“I don’t know if I’ll actually do it,” Tiffany said, “but it’s good to know you wouldn’t mind.”
“I’m ready to go home,” Francine said to Ned. “Let’s go say our good-byes to Abby and the others.”
“Lead the way, doll.”
Tiffany went with them, leaving Mac and Maddie alone in the front hall.
“So if Tiffany sees him and gives him what he wants, then it would just be me standing in the way of my mom and Ned being able to get married,” Maddie said.
The dull, flat tone, which was so out of character for her, pained Mac. This whole situation pained him. Why did her father have to show up now when she was finally happy and settled and at peace with the past?
“You certainly don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, babe.”
“I know.” She went up on tiptoes to kiss him. “Thanks for what you did out there.”
“Any time.”
“Let’s get our kids and go home.”
As Mac followed her into the family room where his cousin Laura kept watch over their children, he was filled with worry over what his wife might be willing to sacrifice to ensure her mother’s happiness.
Chapter 21
If it hadn’t been for the fact that she couldn’t take her mind or her eyes off Evan McCarthy, this would’ve been one of the best nights of Grace’s life. In addition to the abundance of attention she’d received from Seamus, she was now engaged in a fascinating conversation with Gansett’s sexy police chief, Blaine Taylor.
His brown hair was streaked with blond highlights, and his skin was deeply tanned from hours in the sun. He had soft brown eyes, what her mother would call “kind” eyes, and they’d been focused on her for the last fifteen minutes.
They were talking about Oxycontin and the problems pharmacies were having with people breaking in, looking to steal the pain medication to feed their addiction.
“I was on a task force on my old job,” he said. “It’s a real problem in the cities.”
“We’ve seen it in our small town, too.” Grace appreciated the way he gave her his full attention rather than that halfhearted, patiently indulgent thing guys often did when they couldn’t care less about what a woman was saying. She’d been on the receiving end of that treatment far too often when she was heavy.
“At the hospital where I work, we have all sorts of special protocols for keeping that—and some of the other more popular addictive prescription drugs—locked up where no one can get to them even if they manage to breach the pharmacy itself,” she said. “We’ve also been involved in a lot of community outreach projects with the local high schools.”
“Remember the good old days when cocaine and heroin were our biggest problems?”
Grace laughed. “Those were the days.”
He lowered his voice. “Did I hear a rumor in town about you and Gold’s?”
“Wow, news travels fast around here.”
“I saw the transfer in ownership on the docket for the town council meeting next week.”
“Mrs. Gold tells me it’s just a formality, to make the council aware of the change. I don’t even have to be there.”
“Should be no big deal.” He touched his beer bottle to the glass of wine she’d been nursing all evening. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks. I’m looking forward to the challenge.”
“Maybe we can work together on a program for the kids at the island school. We don’t have a lot of drug issues here, but most of the kids will be leaving the island for college, and it would be good to send them out into the world prepared for what they might face.”
While there was nothing overtly flirtatious in Blaine’s words or expression, Grace sensed that he might be interested in getting to know her better. At least she thought she might sense something. What did she know about such things? “I’d love to do that.”
“Great,” Blaine said with a smile that would’ve made her swoon before she knew Evan McCarthy was in the world. Damn him! Had he ruined her for all other men? Was that her fate after one night with him? “Give me a call at the station after you get settled, and we’ll get together for dinner to work out the details.”
Okay, that sounded an awful lot like a date. Where had all these lovely men been hiding before she met Evan?
Laura came up to them. “Sorry to interrupt, but Owen is giving me a lift back to town before he goes to work. Are you ready to go, Grace?”
“I’ll stay for a bit to help Stephanie clean up. I can get a ride from someone.”
“I’ll take you, Gracie,” Seamus called from across the room, waggling his brows suggestively at her.
Grace’s face heated with embarrassment. “Thank you, Seamus.”
Laura leaned in to whisper in Grace’s ear, “Keep it up. Evan is seething with jealousy.”
“Keep what up?” Grace said out loud. “He is not!”
“Is too,” Laura said, kissing Grace’s cheek. “Give me a ring tomorrow before you leave.” She pressed a slip of paper into Grace’s hand. “Here’s my number.”
“I’ll do that.”
&n
bsp; “What was that all about?” Blaine asked after Laura had left with Owen.
Since she couldn’t very well mention to Blaine that she was apparently making Evan jealous by talking to him, she said, “Laura is just being silly. I’m going to give Stephanie a hand with the cleanup, but I’ll be in touch when I get back to the island.”
“I’ll look forward to hearing from you. It was nice to meet you, Grace.”
“You, too.”
Grace went into the kitchen, where Stephanie was up to her elbows in soapsuds.
“Look who it is,” Stephanie said. “Miss Congeniality. The belle of the ball.”
Grace took a garbage bag someone had left on the counter and started collecting empty beer bottles. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“All the single guys at the party have chatted you up.”
“So what? They’re just being friendly.”
“Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Miss Gansett Island.” Stephanie raised her chin to draw Grace’s attention to the window that overlooked the deck. “Poor old Evan. He’s dying out there watching you work the room.”
“He couldn’t care less what I do.”
“Oh, trust me, he cares, Grace. That’s his problem. He has no idea what to do about it because it’s never happened before. He’s skated through life without a care in the world until he met you and fell flat on his face. I hope you can excuse his bad behavior today and chalk it up to male stupidity.”
Grace leaned against the counter, contemplating what Stephanie had said. “You’re saying I should give him a second chance?”
“Only if you want to. I’d say the ball is firmly in your court.”
Grace took a moment, choosing her words carefully. “I went through a lot of rough years to get where I am today. Just wearing this dress,” she said, gesturing to the silky, slinky fabric, “is a big deal for me. I never imagined I’d get to the point where I’d feel comfortable showing off my arms. I spent years—literally years—in a gym trying to reinvent myself. After all that work, I want a real man, not a boy pretending to be a man.”
Stephanie dried off her hands and turned to face Grace. “I have a feeling there’s a really good man in there trying to get out. If you had it in you to be a little patient and maybe a bit indulgent, you might find he’s everything you could ever hope for.”
“Is that what you did with Grant?”
“I guess I did,” Stephanie said, smiling. “When we met, he was still hung up on Abby and determined to get her back any way he could.”
“That must’ve been hard to deal with, especially if you were interested in him yourself.”
“I wasn’t so much interested in him at the beginning as I was attracted to him. I’m ashamed to admit that when I first met him, I was totally wowed by how he looks.” With a sheepish grin, she shrugged. “What can I say? I’m only human, and he’s hot.”
Grace laughed. “I’ve got the same problem with Evan. I look at him and go stupid in the head.”
“You’ll be glad to know that passes after a while. They become less godlike and more like mortal men. That’s when the trouble starts.”
“Are you guys still fighting?”
“Not at the moment. I’m sure we will once we get back to work on the screenplay, but he assures me that all the fighting in the world won’t change how he feels about me.”
“That’s very sweet.”
“Isn’t it? He knows all my insecurities and goes out of his way to reassure me.”
“Speaking of insecurities, I never got around to telling Evan about the surgery.”
“Maybe you should.”
“I’ve been annoyed with him all day for blowing me off, but I wasn’t exactly an open book with him, either. I also never mentioned the deal with Gold’s. I didn’t want him to think it has anything to do with him, you know?”
“That’s perfectly understandable. If I were you, I wouldn’t write him off yet. If he’s anything at all like his brother, and I think he might be, he’s well worth the effort to make him civilized.”
As Grace laughed at Stephanie’s statement, Evan came into the kitchen and made a beeline for the fridge. He withdrew a beer, popped off the cap, downed half of it in one swallow and followed it with a loud belch.
That sent Grace and Stephanie into a fit of laughter, which made him scowl.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
Was it Grace’s imagination or was he going out of his way not to look at her?
“You are, you uncivilized beast,” Stephanie said.
“Gracie, my love, are you ready to go?” Seamus asked as he came into the kitchen. “I’m on the eight o’clock boat in the morning, and I need my beauty sleep.”
“No, you don’t.” Grace played along with Seamus’s outrageousness, enjoying that Evan was, in fact, seething, now that she noticed. “You’re beautiful just the way you are.”
Staggering backward, Seamus rested a hand on his heart. “Are you teasing me, Gracie? Because if you are, I don’t think I’ll survive it.”
“Oh my freaking God,” Evan muttered as he slammed his way toward the deck. “I think I just threw up in my mouth.”
“Where else would you throw up?” Stephanie called after him. “In your armpit?”
The whole situation struck Grace as ridiculously funny. She was still laughing when Seamus escorted her out of the McCarthy’s home and into his company truck for the short ride back to town.
After Seamus dropped her off with a friendly peck on the cheek, Grace took a shower and pulled on the robe provided by the hotel. She brushed her hair and teeth and then stared at her reflection in the mirror. How was it possible that everything had changed and she still looked exactly the same?
Surely after all that had happened in the last few days there ought to be some sort of outward sign to tell the world this wasn’t the same Grace Ryan who’d arrived on the island yesterday. That Grace had been hesitant and uncertain. This Grace was confident and ready to take on the world.
No matter what happened from here on out, there was no going back to who she used to be, and she had Evan to thank for part of her transformation. He’d made her feel beautiful and sexy and desirable, and she’d never forget him for that.
She startled when someone pounded on her door. Her heart skipped a few beats as she checked the peephole and found Evan was staring furiously at her.
“Grace!” More pounding. “Open the damned door. Is he in there? Did you let him in? Grace, come on… Open the door.” In a quieter, more urgent tone, he said, “Please.”
Worried about disturbing her neighbors, Grace unlocked the door and opened it.
Reeking of beer and something stronger, he leaned against the doorjamb. His poor face… It had to be hurting something fierce by now. His eyes traveled the length of her, pausing at the V over her breasts where the lapels of the robe came together, before moving down and then back up to her face. All he’d done was look at her, but Grace felt like he’d stripped her naked.
“Is he here?” he asked, trying to see around her.
“Who?”
“Your new boyfriend.”
What was he talking about? “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Did that Irishman kiss you?”
“Maybe,” Grace said with a coy smile. Of course when his face fell with dismay, she immediately felt bad for being intentionally mean to him. She pointed to her cheek. “He kissed me right here.”
At that, Evan brightened considerably. “Can I come in?”
“Why do you want to?”
“This has been the worst day ever. I need a friend.”
“Are we friends?”
“Grace… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left this morning. I was… I was confused.”
“Are you still confused?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
Her lips began to quiver. He was entirely too cute for his own good.
His wounded look didn’t help to quell the brewing lau
ghter. “Are you going to laugh at me?”
“I’m trying not to.”
Before she could gauge his intent, he leaned forward, buried his lips in the curve of her neck and destroyed her resistance. “Can I come in?” he whispered. “Please?”
“As long as you know nothing is going to happen.”
“By nothing, do you mean—”
“Nothing.” She took his hand and led him into the room, closing the door behind them.
“Grace.” He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her.
Smiling at how adorable he was, even when he was more than half drunk, she returned his embrace, stroking a comforting hand over his hair. “I’m sorry you had such a rough day.”
“It’s all your fault.”
Once again, she found herself choking back a laugh. “How is it my fault?”
“You’ve cast some sort of spell on me. That’s the only possible explanation.”
“For what?”
“For the fact that I can’t stop thinking about you. I think about you all the time. I don’t understand it.” He raised his head and met her gaze. “Tell me the truth—did you cast some sort of spell over me? Did you slip me some pharmacy thing that rebooted my computer?”
Grace shook with silent laughter.
“It’s not funny! You’re making me crazy!”
“Tell me you didn’t drive here.”
“Of course I didn’t,” he said, full of indignation. “I don’t drink and drive.”
Grace led him to the bed and pushed him down. Knocking his flip-flops off his feet, she lifted his legs onto the bed and settled his head on the pillow.
“Grace… Come here with me.” As he held out his hand to her, his eyes fluttered closed. “Tell me what you did to me. Whatever it is, you can undo it, right?”
Grace took his hand and crawled onto the bed next to him. “I don’t think it can be undone.”
Evan moaned. “So what am I supposed to do? How am I going to stop thinking about you every second of every day?”