by Marie Force
“You’re not ready.”
As she shook her head, her bright blue eyes shimmered with tears. “I want to be, but I’m still trying to process it all.”
“I’m sorry. I’m an insensitive clod. You’ve just been through a major ordeal and all I’m thinking about—”
She stroked his hair and then his face. “I’m thinking about it, too. Believe me. When it happens, I want it to be the right time for us. I don’t want it to be about you comforting me. Does that make sense?”
“Of course it does, and you’re right.” He touched his lips to hers. “Absolutely right.”
She seemed to sag in relief that he understood.
He gathered her close to him and knew his own relief when her arms encircled him.
They stayed like that for a long time, before he reluctantly released her. “Let’s grab showers and breakfast and head for the ferry. Maybe we can get back to the island a little sooner than planned.”
“That sounds good.”
“I’m telling you now, though, if it’s as rough as it was yesterday, we’re not going. Got me?”
“I gotcha.”
“Good.”
As he headed for the shower, the lingering fear that she might succeed in pushing him away after all stayed with him. No, he thought. He wouldn’t let that happen. He’d wait it out until she was ready, and then he’d tell her—and show her—how much he loved her.
Carolina woke with strong arms wrapped around her from behind and a muscular, hairy leg between both of hers. She wanted to purr like a kitten—a very satisfied kitten. It’d been so long since she’d been in bed with a man that she’d forgotten how amazing it could be. And she’d never suspected any man could ever make her feel the way her beloved Pete had.
Seamus’s hand moved from her belly to cup her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers.
Carolina let out a moan and pushed back against his erection. How was it possible, after the night they’d shared, that she wanted him again? She started to turn toward him, but he stopped her.
“Stay,” he said gruffly. “Like this.” He drew her leg up over his hip, and as he continued to play with her nipple, the blunt head of his cock nudged at her tender opening. “Are you sore, love?”
“No,” she said breathless with anticipation. The position was new to her. And now that she knew the ecstasy they were capable of achieving together, she’d never admit to a tiny bit of soreness.
His hand shifted from her breast, coasting slowly over her belly, down to where they were joined by the most tenuous of connections.
Carolina thought she’d go mad as he slowly rocked his hips, entering her in small increments as his fingers found the heart of her desire. Her skin heated, her breath caught. She pushed back against him, seeking deeper penetration, but he wouldn’t be rushed.
“Easy, love,” he whispered against the tingling skin on her neck. “Nice and easy.”
He kept up steady pressure on her clitoris as he rocked into her, deeper with each stroke. Only his harsh breathing told her this slow seduction was affecting him every bit as much as it was affecting her. By the time he smoothly shifted them so she was on her knees and he was entering her fully from behind, Carolina was so primed, she exploded in the midst of his first deep thrust.
Seamus rode out her climax and continued to pump into her.
She couldn’t believe it when she came again. This time he went with her, straining against her until they fell together in a boneless, gasping heap on the bed.
“Lord, woman,” he said, his lips vibrating against her back. “You’re amazing.”
Carolina, who was focusing on drawing air to her lungs, couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought, the same reaction she’d had the other three times. His gifted hands had wrought astonishing reactions, reactions she wouldn’t have thought she was still capable of at this age. The pulsing aftershocks in the place where they were joined were proof that she was more than capable, which was a revelation in and of itself.
Floating on a cloud of contentment and satisfaction, Carolina allowed herself to doze. Just for a few minutes. And then she’d have to drag herself out of this heavenly bed and go home to the island with the memories of a one-night interlude with a sexy Irishman to sustain her during the long, cold winter.
She woke a short time later when her cell phone rang in the kitchen.
Seamus kissed her shoulder, finally withdrew from her and got up. “Don’t move. I’ll grab it for ya, love.”
Without his body to warm her, Carolina dove deeper into the flannel sheets and down comforter she’d helped Joe choose for his guest room. She was on her way back to sleep when Seamus returned.
“It was Joe. I didn’t get there in time.”
At the mention of her son’s name, Carolina was instantly awake and instantly guilty. She sat up and tucked the covers under her arms to cover her breasts. She took the phone from Seamus without meeting his gaze, but let her eyes travel over his finely muscled chest, rippling abs and below to—
The phone rang again, and Carolina’s face burned with embarrassment.
“I’ll make some coffee while you talk to your boy.” He walked out of the room, treating her to a view of his finely shaped posterior, which bore the scratches she’d inflicted the night before.
Horrified by the proof of the fiery passion they’d shared, she cleared her throat, hoping she wouldn’t sound guilty and suspicious while talking to her son. “Hi, honey,” she said, smoothing the comforter with her free hand.
“Hey, where were you?”
“I didn’t hear the phone,” she said, swallowing the huge lump that suddenly formed in her throat.
“Did you make it to the island?”
“Not exactly.” She was sick with guilt. What in the world had she been thinking going to bed with a man only two years older than her son? Somewhere across the ocean in Ireland was the mother who’d given birth to Seamus, and Carolina couldn’t help but wonder what she’d have to say about what her son had been up to during the night.
“Oh no?” Joe said. “What happened?”
“The weather was awful. Seamus called off the ferries after the three thirty boat from the island had a particularly rough crossing.” She nearly choked on the name of the man she’d taken as a lover, the man who worked for her son. What the hell had she been thinking?
“Sounds like a good call. So where’d you stay last night?”
When her eyes burned with tears, she closed them. “In your guest room.”
“Everything all right, Mom? You sound kinda funny.”
Alarmed, Carolina said, “Oh, sure, everything’s fine.”
“I hope Seamus took good care of you.”
Carolina’s entire body heated when she thought of how well Seamus had taken care of her. “Yes, of course he did.” She very nearly choked on the words. “He was very. . . hospitable.” Cringing, she closed her eyes. Desperate to get the focus off her, she said, “So, what’s going on?”
“Well, it turns out you were right. Janey’s pregnant. Congratulations, Grandma.”
As the word “grandma” registered, Seamus appeared in the doorway, still naked as the day he was born. He leaned against the doorframe, sipping a mug of coffee and watching her intently.
“Mom? Are you there?”
“Yes, honey, that’s wonderful news! How did Janey take it?”
“Better than expected. It probably helped that I was clearly elated over it.”
Forcing her eyes off the hunk of man in the doorway, Carolina pictured her son’s handsome face and forced herself to focus on the significant conversation. She imagined his elation over the baby was similar to his sheer joy on the day he married the love of his life. “I’m so happy for both of you. You’ll be wonderful parents.”
“Thanks. We’re excited, to say the least.”
“I’ll bet you are. I want to hear all about it—every detail.”
“You got it. We’re going to the do
ctor next week to find out how far along she is, due dates. That kind of stuff.”
“I can’t wait to hear.”
“Me, too. So what time are you heading to the island?”
“I guess that depends on whether the ferries are running.”
Seamus gave a thumb’s up to let her know he’d already checked, and they were good to go.
“Text me when you get there,” Joe said.
“I will. Give Janey my love and tell her congratulations from me.”
“Will do. Talk to you soon.”
“Love you.”
“You, too.”
Carolina ended the call and bobbled the phone between her hands. She was filled with nerves and morning-after regret.
Seamus came to sit next to her on the bed and handed her the mug.
Grateful for the distraction and the badly needed caffeine, Carolina tried to focus on the coffee. Anything to keep her eyes off the tempting sight of him.
“I take it congratulations are in order.” His eyes sparkled with mirth. “Grandma.”
She choked on the coffee.
He took the mug from her, put it on the bedside table and patted her back. “Okay?”
Nodding, she shrugged off his embrace, wishing he would catch the hint and take his big naked body elsewhere so she could get up and grab a shower. Even after what they’d shared during the night, she wasn’t prepared to prance around naked in front of him.
Apparently, he had no such hang-ups, but he was sixteen years younger. Her eyes were drawn to the penis that hung large between his legs even when he wasn’t aroused. Remembering the first time he’d pushed that big member slowly into her tight channel made her mouth water with desire. She tore her gaze off that part of him and sought a safer place to plant her eyes.
When she looked up, she found him watching her carefully, waiting for her to make eye contact. Damned if he didn’t seem amused over her visual tour of his body.
“What’s got you all worked up, my love?”
“I’m not your love. Don’t say that.”
He curled a lock of her hair around his finger and brought it to his nose. “I sure would like you to be.”
“That’s not going to happen! Did you hear what my son just told me? I’m going to be a grandmother!”
He had the audacity to laugh! He actually laughed!
“What the hell is so funny?”
“You are,” he said, leaning in to nibble on her neck. “Congratulations, by the way. Sexiest grandma I ever met.”
She swatted at him, but that didn’t deter him. “Stop that! Have you heard a word I’ve said?”
“Uh huh.” The neck nibbling continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I heard every. Single. Word.” He punctuated his words with more kisses and the slide of his tongue over her sensitized skin. “And every moan and sigh and scream, too.”
Mortified by the reminder of how completely she’d come apart in his arms, Carolina tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t be pushed. “Please, Seamus. I enjoyed last night. I really did. But I can’t do this. I just can’t.”
He tugged the covers free of the iron grip she had on them, exposing her breasts. Her nipples reacted instantly to the cool air and the heated promise in his gaze. His attention shifted from her neck to her chest to the valley between her breasts. While his lips were busy on the front of her, his hands slid down her back to cup her ass and arrange her under him. The man, she’d discovered during the night, was a master multi-tasker.
“Did you hear what I just said?” she asked, breathless from the tug of his lips on her tender nipple.
“I heard ya, love.”
“Then why—”
He sucked hard and stole the words right off her lips.
Her back arched as her body betrayed her yet again. Before she had a chance to figure out how she’d so thoroughly lost control of the conversation, her fingers were buried in his hair to hold his head to her chest, and her legs were wrapped around his hips as he made love to her yet again.
By the time he finally let her out of bed to take a shower an hour later, Carolina was royally screwed—in every possible way.
Maddie made chocolate-chip muffins and coffee in preparation for her meeting with the ladies who’d agreed to help plan the Thanksgiving dinner to benefit the island’s summer employees. She used to be one of the struggling year-round residents who relied on the tourists for income, before Mac McCarthy came along and changed her life in every possible way. Now that her fortunes had improved so dramatically, she was anxious to give something back to the people she’d once worked and commiserated with when times were tough.
Her sister Tiffany came through the sliding door from the deck a few minutes later. Maddie had asked Tiff to come early because she was anxious to talk to her. Tiffany hadn’t been herself in recent weeks, and Maddie was concerned about her baby sister.
“Hey,” Tiffany said.
“Hi, honey.” Maddie crossed the big, open great room to greet her sister with a hug and kiss. “How are you?”
“Good.” Tiffany tossed her denim jacket on a chair. “Busy.”
“How’s the store coming along?”
“Fine.”
Maddie poured coffee for both of them and slid onto a bar stool next to Tiffany. “When do I get a sneak peek?”
“When it’s ready,” Tiffany said, as she always did when Maddie asked about the store. She was dying of curiosity to see what Tiffany was doing with the former location of Abby’s Attic, but so far Tiffany had kept the details to herself.
“How’s Ashleigh liking preschool?”
“She loves it. You know that. You see her every day when you drop off Thomas.”
“They both love it.” Maddie stirred some cream into her coffee. “So, have you seen Dad?” Their father had recently resurfaced more than thirty years after he left his family on the island and never looked back.
“Just that one time. He said he’d call, but I haven’t heard from him. What about you?”
“He’s left me a couple of messages, but I’m not ready to talk to him. I hate that I’m the only thing standing between Mom and Ned getting married—”
“She doesn’t expect you to do anything you don’t want to do. She and Ned seem perfectly thrilled to be living together.”
“Yeah, they do.”
Tiffany reached for one of the muffins and pulled the top off.
“I’m worried about you,” Maddie said. “You’ve been very. . . distant. . . lately.”
“Have I?”
“What’s going on, Tiff? You know there’s nothing you can’t tell me.”
Tiffany focused on her coffee and muffin for so long, Maddie suspected she wasn’t going to say anything. “Something happened.” The words seemed to burst out of her in a rush of air and relief.
Instantly on alert, Maddie said, “What?”
“Blaine.”
“Ohhhhh,” Maddie said, instantly relieved and desperately curious. Since Blaine Taylor was the island’s police chief and Mac’s good friend, Maddie knew that whatever happened had most likely been a good thing. “Well? Are you going to tell me?”
Tiffany’s face turned bright red. “We. . . um, well. . . we kinda kissed. And stuff.”
Maddie, who had never before seen her fearless sister blush, stared at her, astounded. “What kind of stuff?”
“The good kind of stuff, but not the stuff. If you know what I mean.”
“Huh,” Maddie said, still nearly speechless. “When was this?”
“A while ago. Early September.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I haven’t told anyone.”
“So, like, did you run into him out or something?”
“Or something. I got arrested.”
“What?”
Tiffany held up a hand to keep Maddie in her seat. “It was no big deal. I snuck into Jim’s place, wanting to talk to him, and he accused me of breaking and entering.”
�
�That bastard!”
“You don’t know the half of it. Anyway, Blaine showed up and told Jim it doesn’t count as B&E if the door is unlocked.”
“Then how did you end up arrested?”
Tiffany diverted her gaze, looking ashamed. “I might’ve slashed the tires on Jim’s precious Mercedes on the way in.”
Maddie rocked with laughter. “Oh, that must’ve pissed him off!”
“Seriously. It was well worth getting arrested.”
“Why wasn’t any of this in the paper?”
“I guess Blaine decided not to file a report. He did me a huge favor.”
“Good for him.” Maddie had always liked the sexy policeman, but now she really liked him. “So when did the kissing—and stuff—happen?”
“When he drove me home.”
“Oh.”
“It was. . .”
Maddie reached for Tiffany’s hand and was shocked to find it freezing. She rubbed it between both of hers. “What, honey?”
“Insane.”
“In what way?”
“It was like. . .we were possessed or something. He made me. . you know. . . in my kitchen.”
“Oh,” Maddie said, fanning herself. “Wow.”
“Yeah.” Tiffany focused intently on her muffin.
“So did you. . . return the favor?”
She shook her head. “Unfortunately, he got called away to an accident before I could. I haven’t seen him since.”
Hearing that, Maddie experienced a profound sense of disappointment, as if she’d been the one to have an explosive encounter with a man she’d never seen again.
“It’s just as well,” Tiffany said with a shrug. “Nothing good could come of that in the midst of my ugly divorce. He’d be crazy to want to be involved with me right now.”
“Sweetie,” Maddie said, clutching Tiffany’s hand, “he’d be crazy not to want you. Look at you! You’re a walking, talking sex kitten.” Maddie had always envied her sister’s lean, lithe dancer’s body and silky dark hair. “I’ve seen how he looks at you like a hungry tiger.”
“Meow,” Tiffany said with a weak smile.
Maddie laughed. “It’s not that he doesn’t want you.”
“Then why haven’t I heard from him since the most explosive sexual-encounter-in-which-no-one-actually-had-sex of my life?”