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Page 7

by Marie Force


  “What’re you guys up to?” Stephanie asked her friends.

  “This is an intervention,” Abby said.

  “An intervention? What the hell?”

  “We want to talk to you,” Grace said kindly.

  “About?”

  “Grant.”

  “What about him?” Stephanie asked, a mulish expression occupying her face.

  “Don’t shoot the messengers,” Laura said, “and he’d probably never admit it, but you kind of hurt him back there with how you brushed him off.”

  “How did I brush him off?”

  “By getting up and walking away when he tried to get you to talk about your wedding.”

  “I didn’t do that.”

  “Um, yeah, you did,” Grace said. “Is something wrong, Steph? You know you can talk to us if you need to, right?”

  “I can make myself scarce if you’d rather not talk about Grant in front of me,” Abby said.

  “I don’t care about any of that,” Stephanie said. “It’s ancient history, and you’re happy with Adam.”

  “I’m so happy with Adam,” Abby said with a goofy grin that made the other women laugh.

  “Are you going to tell us what’s going on, Steph?” Laura asked. “Is something wrong between you and Grant?”

  “No, nothing is wrong. Did he tell you to ask me that?”

  Laura shook her head, concerned by Stephanie’s obvious torment. “Whatever it is, you’ll feel better if you air it out with your best pals.”

  “There’s nothing wrong,” Stephanie insisted.

  “Then why don’t you want to talk about getting married when you’ve been engaged to the man you love for almost a year?” Grace asked.

  “I don’t know.” Stephanie’s shoulders drooped with defeat that tugged at Laura’s heart. “I just don’t know why I don’t want to talk about it. I love him. You guys know I do.”

  “Anyone can see that,” Abby said.

  “Everything is fine the way it is. What difference will it make if we’re married?”

  “I don’t pretend to speak for him, but I think it’ll make a difference to Grant,” Laura said. “He wants kids someday, and he’s already thirty-six. That’s probably part of the reason he’d like to get married and get on with having a family.”

  “I don’t know if that’s what I want.”

  “You don’t want a family?” Abby asked.

  Stephanie shrugged. When her eyes filled with tears, she closed them and seemed determined to will away the tears.

  Grace put an arm around her, and Steph dropped her head onto Grace’s shoulder.

  “I’d probably be an awful mother,” Stephanie said softly, so softly Laura almost didn’t hear her.

  And then suddenly, she understood. “No,” Laura said emphatically. “You’d be a wonderful mother.”

  “How can you say that?” Stephanie asked. “My own mother was a horror show. I have no idea how to take care of a kid who deserves someone who knows exactly what to do.”

  “You’re nothing like her, Steph,” Grace said. “Look at all you’ve done and accomplished by getting Charlie out of jail and opening your own business, all while having the most wonderful relationship with Grant and the rest of us. How can you say you wouldn’t know what to do?”

  Weeping openly now, Stephanie shook her head. “That’s really nice of you to say, but there’s no way to know whether or not I’d mess it up until it happens, and I can’t take that risk. It wouldn’t be fair to the kid or to Grant. He deserves better. He deserves so much better than me.”

  “God, Steph,” Laura said. “You have no idea how much he loves you if you can say something like that.”

  Stephanie wiped the tears off her cheeks. “I know you guys mean well—”

  “Ladies,” a deep male voice said behind them. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take it from here.”

  They spun around to find Grant standing there.

  Laura looked to Stephanie to see what she wanted them to do.

  “It’s okay, you guys. This conversation is probably long overdue anyway.”

  Each of them hugged and kissed Stephanie before they walked away to leave them to work it out. Laura squeezed her cousin’s arm as she walked by, afraid of what might become of him if he lost the woman he loved.

  A knot of fear settled in her gut as Stephanie eyed her fiancé’s unreadable expression. “How much did you hear?”

  He kept his hands in the pockets of the plaid shorts she’d bought him for his birthday earlier in the summer. She’d had to talk him into wearing them, and now he loved them. “Enough.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shared with them something I’ve been unable to share with you.”

  “Why is that? Why have you been unable to share it with me?”

  “Because I’m afraid.”

  He took a step closer to her. “Of what, honey?”

  “Of losing you.” Despite her effort to contain the emotional wallop of exposing her deepest fears, a sob escaped from her tightly clenched lips.

  Grant closed the distance between them and put his arms around her, drawing her into his familiar and comforting embrace. “That’s not going to happen. There’s nothing you could say or do that would keep me from wanting you or loving you. I thought you knew that.”

  Sometimes she still felt like she didn’t deserve this amazing man. “I don’t know if I want kids.” Saying the words out loud filled her with an unreasonable level of fear that she’d kept locked inside for months as she dodged his efforts to pin her down on a wedding date.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because! After the way I grew up, I have no business taking that kind of chance with an innocent kid who deserves better than a mother who doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing.”

  His soft chuckle surprised and infuriated her.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “No, babe. I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at the notion that anyone knows what they’re doing when they bring a child into this world. Look at Joe since P.J. arrived. He hasn’t got the first clue of what to do with a baby, yet he’s figuring it out. And he lost his dad when he was seven. Sure, he had my dad to show him how fatherhood is done, but he probably felt no more prepared to be a father than you do to be a mother. And what about Laura? Her mother died when she was nine. No one is showing her how to do it, but would anyone deny that she’s a wonderful mother to Holden?”

  “No,” Stephanie said in a small voice.

  “Look at what she’s going through to bring the twins into the world. She got pregnant again knowing that pregnancy doesn’t agree with her, and she did it anyway.”

  “I think that might’ve been an accident,” Stephanie said, desperately seeking some levity in the midst of her emotional firestorm.

  “At their age, there’re no accidents.” He drew back from her, but only enough so he could see her face. “I believe in my heart that you would be an amazing mother. I believe that you would take one look at a child of ours and decide you’d do anything for that baby. I believe you’d give your own life to keep a child of ours safe. I believe all these things because I know you, Stephanie. I know you, the real you. I know your heart, and I know what it’s like to be loved by you. Nothing you can say would ever convince me that you won’t love our child the same way you love me—with all you’ve got to give.”

  Sobs hiccupped through her as he held her close and rubbed her back. “It’s not fair.”

  “What isn’t?”

  “Someone ought to warn a girl that when she gets involved with a writer, she’s going to be powerless when he unleashes his words on her.”

  “You’re not powerless, babe. You’ve got all the power here. You’ve ruined me for all other women, so if you don’t marry me, you’re dooming me to living like a monk for the rest of my life, a lonely, worthless shell of the guy I might’ve been with you as my wife.”

  She laughed despite the tears that continued
to flow freely. “See what I mean? What am I supposed to say to that?”

  “You could say, ‘Why, yes, Grant, as usual, you’re right about everything. And it’s all going to be okay. As long as the two of us are together, we can get through anything, including parenthood.’ You could say, ‘I love you and only you, and I want to marry you as much as you want to marry me.’ You could also say—”

  She reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on to him for dear life. “What you said,” she whispered against his lips. “All of it.”

  “Really? You mean it?”

  Nodding, she kissed him again. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about this sooner. I should’ve known you’d know just what to say to talk me down off the ledge.”

  “I never want you out on that ledge by yourself. You’re not alone anymore, Steph. There’s no need to do this to yourself.”

  “I’m still getting used to that. I was alone for so long that sometimes I forget everything is different now, and I don’t have to keep it all inside anymore.”

  He held her for a long time, giving her exactly what she needed the way he always did. “You know what the best thing about growing up here was?”

  Surprised by the change in topic, she said, “No, what?”

  “I know every path and where it leads. That one there,” he said, nodding to a spot on her right, “leads around the neighbor’s house and back to the road where we parked.”

  Stephanie smiled up at him as his plan filled her with joy and excitement and relief to have finally shared her deepest fears with him. When he held out his hand to her, she happily gave him hers and let him lead her down the path that would take them home.

  Standing with her dad and Betsy, Laura kept an eye on Stephanie and Grant, who seemed to be working things out if the hugging and kissing were any indication. That was a relief. She loved the two of them and loved them together. Her cousin had never been as mellow and happy as he’d been since he met and fell for Stephanie. Laura admired Steph tremendously for the battle she’d waged to free Charlie from jail while working multiple jobs to support herself and pay for lawyers.

  Until Grant introduced her to his friend Dan Torrington, none of those lawyers had succeeded in doing what Dan had accomplished with a couple of well-placed phone calls. Speaking of Dan, he walked over to them with his fiancée, Kara Ballard.

  “I think you’re the last ones we need to invite,” Dan said.

  “To what?” Laura asked.

  “My parents are coming to the island tonight,” Kara said, “and they’re hosting a dinner for us tomorrow night at the Summer House. I know it’s short notice, but they wanted to do an engagement party. Personally, I think engagement parties are stupid, but you can’t tell my mother that.”

  “I have to check with Owen to make sure he doesn’t have plans or a gig, but we should be able to come,” Laura said.

  “Please feel free to bring the baby,” Kara said.

  “Your Honor,” Dan said, “hope you can make it, too.”

  “I’m Frank, Dan, and yes, we’d love to,” he said with a glance at Betsy, who nodded in agreement.

  “You’ll have to give me some time to get used to calling you by your first name,” Dan said. “I’m not conditioned to be so casual with judges.”

  “I’m retired now.”

  “Once a judge, always a judge.”

  Laura could tell that Dan’s comments pleased her dad, who was making a smooth transition to retirement. She loved having him living close enough to see him every day. He’d been a huge help to her with Holden, too.

  Evan came over and asked to speak to her.

  “Excuse me,” she said to the others. “What’s up?” she asked her cousin, who was Owen’s closest friend.

  “Is he okay?” Evan asked.

  She didn’t have to ask whom he was talking about. “I don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “He says he’s fine, but the closer we get to leaving, the more withdrawn he gets. I think he’s terrified of seeing his father again after all this time and of having to testify. But more than that, he’s terrified that no matter what he says or does, it won’t be enough to put the guy away for a good long time.”

  “I really wish he and Sarah didn’t have to go through this. Especially now, right before your wedding.”

  “Believe me, I wish the same thing.”

  “I was worried because we got asked to play a couple of gigs in the last week or so, and he declined, which is unusual.”

  “Especially when he gets to play with you. Those are his favorite gigs.”

  Evan smiled at that. “I’m going to Virginia with you.”

  “Evan… You don’t have to. I’ll be there, and so will Blaine, David, Slim, my dad, Sarah. He’ll be well protected.”

  “He’s my best friend, Laura. I can’t let him go through this without me there with him.”

  She curled her hands around his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. “I feel the same way, so I can’t blame you for wanting to come. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

  “I’m worried about him,” Evan said, his gaze fixed on Owen across the yard. He was with his mom and Charlie as well as Shane, who was holding Holden, although anyone who knew Owen well could see he was smiling and nodding, but the smile wasn’t his real smile. It wasn’t the one that lit up his face and made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

  “I am, too,” she said.

  Chapter 8

  “My mom told me she’s staying at Charlie’s tonight,” Owen said after they were home and had gotten Holden into bed.

  “Really? Wow. Good for her—and him. Do you think they’ll, you know…”

  “I’m trying very hard not to think about that.”

  Laura laughed at the face he made. “My dad and Betsy were holding hands today.”

  “I saw that.”

  “Seems like things are moving forward for everyone.”

  “Mom said Charlie is coming to Virginia with us. Slim will need to lease a bigger plane.” Because so many of them were going, Laura’s dad had worked with Slim to arrange for a private plane out of Greene Airport in Warwick.

  “I’m glad your mom finally told Charlie what’s going on so he can support her through all of this.”

  “I’m glad she told him, too.”

  “Evan is planning to come with us.”

  The news seemed to catch Owen off guard. “Why? He’s got too much going on with the studio to be away.”

  “He wants to be there for you.”

  Owen shook his head. “That’s not necessary.”

  “It is to him.” Laura approached him cautiously. For the first time, she wasn’t sure she’d be welcome. “You don’t understand how hard it is for the people who love you to watch you suffer.”

  He let her put her arms around him, but he seemed to be merely tolerating her, which was also a first. “And you all don’t understand how embarrassing and humiliating this entire thing is for me.”

  “Why, Owen?”

  Staring down at her, mouth agape, he said, “Because! He’s my father! How would you or Evan begin to understand where I come from with Frank and Mac McCarthy as your fathers?”

  The pain that echoed through his every word sliced her like a knife, making her bleed for him. She’d heard it was possible to feel the pain of others almost as acutely as they were feeling it themselves, but she’d never experienced it so profoundly until now. “Your father is no reflection on you, Owen. You had no control over who you were born to, just like Evan and I had no control over who we were born to. We got lucky. You didn’t. That doesn’t make us look at you any differently because something you couldn’t control happened to you. If anything, it makes us admire you more than we already do, because you survived it when it might’ve broken a lesser person.”

  “How can you be so sure it didn’t break me?”

  “Look at you. You’re strong and capable and trustworthy and loyal and loving and gentle—so gentle wit
h me and Holden and your mother and all the other people you love. You’re nothing like him, Owen. No one thinks you are, except for maybe you.”

  His cheek twitched with tension as he fixated on a spot over her shoulder. “I feel like he’s in there, lying dormant, waiting to lash out when he has the right provocation.”

  “So if I piss you off someday, you’re going to hit me?” With her hands flat against his chest, she gave him a little push.

  Since he wasn’t expecting it, he stumbled slightly. “What’re you doing?”

  “Proving a point.” She raised her hand and laid it gently against his cheek. “If I slap your face, will you slap me back?”

  He turned away from her hand. “No. Stop it. Why are you doing this?”

  She rolled her other hand into a fist that she pressed to his abdomen. “If I punch you in the stomach, will you punch me back?”

  “Laura…”

  “You’d never lay a hand on me, no matter what I did to you. Never. I haven’t the slightest doubt about that. I could say anything, do anything, and you’d never touch me with anything other than love.”

  “Stop this.”

  “Not until I hear you say you’re nothing like him.” With her hands once again on his chest, she raised a challenging brow. “Do I need to push you around a little more to make you understand what I already know?” The notion that she could physically make him do anything he didn’t want to do was ridiculous, and they both knew it. “Do I?”

  “No,” he said with a sigh as he curled his hands around her wrists and lifted them from his chest. He kissed one of her palms and then the other. “I’d rather die than do anything to hurt you.”

  “And that, right there, is why you’ll never be your father’s son. Don’t you see, Owen? That’s not how he feels. He’d rather die than admit how weak and inadequate he is or how little control he has over his rage. You would rather die than hurt me or anyone else you love. Can’t you see the difference?”

 

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