Hoping for Love (McCarthys of Gansett Island, Book 5)

by Marie Force

  He flipped the latch on a white picket fence and ushered her into a yard that was fragrant with roses.

  “Smells good,” she said.

  “My mom’s prize roses. We weren’t allowed within three feet of them growing up.”

  “I don’t blame her.”

  “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

  Grace snickered at his indignation as she followed him into the spacious house.

  He led her into the kitchen and flipped on a light. Peeking into the fridge, he withdrew a beer and offered her one.

  “No, thanks.” She’d already had two, which was far more than she normally consumed since the surgery, but tonight hadn’t been an average night. “Just some water, please.”

  “Coming right up.”

  When he pressed the glass to the icemaker on the door of the fridge, Grace cast a nervous glance around. “You’re going to wake them up.”

  “Nah, they’re heavy sleepers. We used to count on that when we were kids and wanted to sneak out.”

  “Is that so?”

  They spun at the sound of a woman’s voice. Grace assumed she was his mother.

  “That was Mac,” Evan said quickly. “I never snuck out. Not once.”

  “Tell your story to someone who believes you.” To Grace, she said, “Hi there, I’m Linda McCarthy.”

  Embarrassed to have been caught, Grace shook her outstretched hand. “Grace Ryan.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Grace needed a place to crash tonight, so I offered her Janey’s old room. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Of course it is. Can I get you something to eat?”

  “No, thank you. I had something earlier. And thanks for letting me impose.”

  “No problem at all,” Linda said with a warm smile.

  “What’re you still doing up, Mom?” Evan asked.

  “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “Everything okay?” he asked, seeming concerned all of a sudden.

  Linda shrugged. “Dad wasn’t doing too great earlier. By the time I got him settled, I was wide awake.”

  Evan put down his beer and went to his mother. “What do you mean?”

  “He was agitated.” To Grace, she said, “My husband suffered a head injury earlier this summer. He’s much better but still has some rough spots.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll pray for his speedy recovery.”

  Linda squeezed her arm. “Thank you.”

  “You should’ve called me—or Mac or Grant. You don’t have to handle him on your own when he gets like that.”

  “You’re all busy with your own lives. Besides, I took care of it. Nothing to worry about.” She went up on tiptoes to kiss the son who towered over her. Grace would put him at six two at the very least. “I’m going up to bed. I’ll see you in the morning. Grace, honey, make yourself at home.”

  “Thank you so much, Mrs. McCarthy.”

  “Please call me Linda.” She waved to them on her way out of the kitchen.

  Evan stared after her for a long time.

  “Are you okay?” Grace asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, making an effort to shake off whatever had upset him.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” After all, he’d listened to her troubles earlier. It seemed the least she could to do to return the favor.

  “It’s…um, well, my dad.” He gestured for her to follow him to the spacious deck off the kitchen. The Salt Pond sparkled with lights from hundreds of boats on moorings.

  Evan took off his sweatshirt and handed it to her.

  Grateful for the warmth, Grace zipped it on and was immediately cocooned in his appealing scent. “What’s going on with your dad?” she asked when she was settled in the chair next to his.

  “He’s this larger-than-life presence, you know? But ever since the head injury, he’s cranky and withdrawn and sometimes nasty and not at all himself.”

  “That happens with head injuries.”

  “We’ve heard that over and over and over. Of course, no one can tell us how long it’ll be before he’s himself again—if ever.”

  He looked and sounded so dejected that Grace felt her heart go out to him before she could remember that she’d intended to keep her distance. “It’s apt to be a while. Don’t give up yet, and try to be as patient as you can with him.”

  “We’re trying, but it’s not easy sometimes. I never remember my parents arguing, and now that’s all they seem to do.”

  “They never argued?”

  “Not that we ever heard. They’ve always been more lovey-dovey than anything, which was mortifying to us.” He pretended to stick a finger down his throat.

  “Of course it was,” she said with a laugh, even as she experienced a pang of envy over his parents’ happy marriage. She had good reason—especially after tonight’s disaster—to wonder if she’d ever be so lucky as to find the one person meant for her.

  “What’re you thinking?”

  “That I envy your parents. Sounds like they have the real deal.” She smothered a yawn and burrowed deeper into his sweatshirt.

  “I’m sorry. I’m going on and on, and you’re exhausted.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ve enjoyed talking to you.”

  He smiled at her, flashing those adorable dimples, and her insides melted. “Me, too. Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

  Chapter 3

  Against all odds, Grace slept like a dead woman. When Evan shook her awake just after seven, she couldn’t remember where she was, but she certainly remembered him. Of course he was even more gorgeous in the morning with rumpled hair, stubble on his jaw and bloodshot blue eyes.

  “We’ve got an hour until the first boat,” he said. “Time to grab some coffee if you’re interested.”

  “I’m interested.”

  “I’ll let you get ready and meet you downstairs in a few.”

  “Thanks for getting up early.”

  “No problem,” he said with the dimpled grin that was too cute for words.

  After he left the room, closing the door behind him, Grace took a moment to study his sister’s bedroom in the bright light of day. Trophies and plaques and framed photos told the story of high school life for a petite, pretty blonde. It wasn’t fair, Grace told herself, to hate his sister without having met the woman.

  As she dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom, she thanked the gods for the one physical blessing bestowed upon her—hair that could be managed with fingers when she found herself marooned on an island without a hairbrush. No toothbrush, either, she remembered, bemoaning the lack of such a necessary item. Goddamned Trey Parsons. She’d kill him when she got her hands on him.

  “Hey, Grace,” Evan said from the hallway, giving the door a short knock. “My mom said there’re extra toothbrushes in the cabinet if you want one.”

  “Tell her thanks,” Grace said, weak with gratitude as she found a new toothbrush and broke it open.

  When she was as put together as it was possible to be without her bag of tricks, Grace made her way downstairs where Evan and his mother were having coffee.

  “I was going to take you to the diner,” Evan said, “but Mom beat me to the punch.” He gestured to the stove where his mother stood watch over scrambled eggs and sausage.

  Grace’s stomach chose that moment to grumble. Loudly. Mortified, she placed a hand on her belly, as if that could stop the sounds that often emanated from that region since the surgery.

  Evan chuckled. “I’d say Grace approves of the plan.”

  “Sorry,” she muttered as she accepted a mug of coffee from him. He put cream and sugar on the table for her. “I hope you’re not going to any trouble on my account.”

  “It’s no trouble at all,” Linda said cheerfully.

  A tall man with gray hair came into the room, and Linda’s gaze landed on him, seeming to take a quick visual inventory. “I hope we didn’t wake you,” she said.

  He took the cup of coffee she handed to
him. “I was awake.”

  Grace decided he was an older version of Evan, every bit as handsome in his own way, even if his brows were furrowed and his face set into a grumpy expression. His left arm was encased in a bulky plaster cast.

  “Dad, this is Grace. She stayed in Janey’s room last night. Grace, this is my dad. Everyone calls him Big Mac.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Grace said. “Thanks for the lodging.”

  “No problem,” Big Mac muttered, taking his coffee out to the deck.

  Evan and his mother exchanged concerned glances as she dished up eggs and toast for all of them.

  “I’m going to take mine outside to join Dad,” she said to Evan. “Let me know if I can get you two anything else.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Yes, thank you, Linda—for everything. I really appreciate it.”

  “We’re happy to have you. I hope you’ll come back to see us again sometime.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Linda took two plates and headed for the deck.

  Evan jumped up to help her with the door and then slid it closed behind her. As he rejoined Grace at the table, he let out a deep sigh. “Sorry about that. He’s usually a lot more hospitable, especially with our friends.”

  “He was fine. It’s early, and he didn’t expect to find a stranger at his table.”

  “It’s certainly not the first time he’s been greeted with unexpected guests at the breakfast table.”

  “So you make a habit of bringing home strays?”

  His lips formed a hint of a smile, and Grace was oddly relieved to see his expression lose some of the concern he’d directed at his father. “Not usually. My mother gets a little too hopeful when she sees me with a friend of the female persuasion.”

  That made Grace laugh. “Something tells me you don’t give her many opportunities to get her hopes up.”

  “You got it.”

  “Well, I appreciate you taking one for the team by bringing me home.”

  “It was a huge risk, that’s for sure,” he said gravely, which set her off into a fit of laughter. “In light of this huge risk I took on your behalf, I find your laughter highly inappropriate.”

  His haughty tone only made her laugh harder. “I’m sure you do,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

  “A guy takes a big risk for a gal, and this is the thanks he gets. I see how it is.”

  Grace rolled her eyes at him and laughed some more. He was just too cute, and it was fun to laugh with him—and at him. “After what happened last night, I didn’t expect to laugh again for a while, so thanks for that.”

  “Happy to be of service.” He gestured to her half-eaten breakfast. “Are the eggs okay?”

  “They’re great. I’m just full.” Because she couldn’t very well tell him about the stomach she’d had surgically reduced, she pushed the plate his way. “Why don’t you finish it for me so your mother’s feelings aren’t hurt?”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  While he wolfed down the rest of her eggs and toast, she contemplated the dilemma of how she’d get home to Mystic and what she would tell her parents about why her purse and luggage were missing. It was definitely time to get her own place. She’d put that off long enough. Why the heck she was still explaining herself to her parents at twenty-eight years old was something she needed to rectify—and soon.

  “What’s on your mind over there?” Evan asked as he finished his coffee.

  “Just thinking about getting home and how I’ll get my stuff back from Trey.”

  “I’d suggest a text message with a suggestion that he return your stuff—immediately—or you’ll call the police. That’ll get his attention.”

  Grace smiled at his furious expression. “Yes, it will. And I won’t have to talk to him ever again.”

  “Exactly. Do you have a mutual friend he could deliver it to?”

  “As a matter of fact, there is someone I could ask. That’s a great idea.”

  “I hate guys like him who give the rest of us a bad name.”

  “I’m glad there are still guys like you willing to help a perfect stranger.”

  Shrugging off her praise, he stood and cleared their plates. “It was no big deal.”

  “It was to me, and I won’t forget it, Evan.”

  She watched him load the dishwasher and clean up the stove, impressed that he bothered to take the time.

  When he turned back to her and caught her watching him, he seemed embarrassed. “Linda taught us well.”

  Smiling, she said, “I can see that.” She pointed to the closed door to the deck. “Do you mind if I say thanks again?”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  When Grace slid open the door, his father’s raised voice greeted them.

  “I don’t want to talk about it!” Big Mac said.

  Uncertain of how to proceed, Grace glanced back at Evan.

  His jaw set with tension, he joined her in the doorway. “Mom, Dad, Grace is leaving, and she wanted to say good-bye.”

  “Thanks again for your hospitality,” Grace said, once again noting the breathtaking view of the Salt Pond from the McCarthy’s deck.

  Linda forced a smile as she said good-bye, and Big Mac gave a short wave.

  “I’ll be back after I walk Grace to the ferry,” Evan said. He ushered her out of the house into bright sunshine a few minutes later. “Sorry about the tension.”

  “Please don’t be. There’s a perfectly good reason for it.”

  “Even though I know that, it’s hard to see him ‘off,’ you know?”

  “I can imagine. He’s still healing, and he’s no doubt frustrated to not be bouncing back as quickly as he’d like. I’m sure it’s very difficult for him, too.”

  “Yeah, I guess. He hates everyone hovering over him, but what’re we supposed to do?”

  “Nothing else you can do but stand by him until he’s back to normal.”

  “It’s weird, because he was doing a lot better, and then suddenly it was two steps backward again. We don’t know what to make of it.”

  “Do you think maybe something happened that jarred his confidence?”

  “Could be,” Evan said pensively as they walked into town. “I hadn’t really thought of that. I just figured he was being stubborn.”

  “I’ll bet something happened that scared him.”

  “Maybe.”

  They approached Gold’s Pharmacy, and Grace took a long, measuring look. “You don’t see that very often anymore,” she said, gesturing to the clapboard house that served as the island’s pharmacy.

  “What’s that?”

  “A pharmacy that’s not part of a chain.”

  “Are you with one of the chains?”

  She shook her head. “I work at a hospital.” Noting that the pharmacy was open early, she said, “Do we have time to go in?”

  He checked his watch. “Thirty minutes until the ferry to New London leaves.”

  “I’ll be quick.”

  Evan followed her into Gold’s. The store was small but well organized with a pharmacy counter located in the back. A gray-haired woman was coming up the center aisle as they made their way to the back of the store.

  “Hi there, Evan,” she said, eyeing Grace with interest.

  “Hi, Mrs. Gold. This is Grace Ryan. She’s a pharmacist on the mainland, and she was interested in your store.”

  Mrs. Gold’s eyes went wide with excitement. “Is she interested in buying my store?” she asked in a nasally New York accent.

  Grace wasn’t sure she’d heard her right. “Excuse me?”

  Mrs. Gold let out a long-suffering sigh. “Mr. Gold and I have been trying to sell the store for some time now. Our grandchildren live in New York, and we’d like to be closer to them. If you know of anyone who might be interested, keep us in mind. We do a good business since we’re the island’s only pharmacy.” To Evan, she added, “As you know, island life isn’t for everyone. So the buyers aren’t exactly crawl
ing from the woodwork.”

  Grace’s spine tingled with excitement at the idea of owning her own pharmacy. She’d never once considered such a thing. “What are you looking for in a buyer?” she asked.

  Evan held up his arm and tapped a finger on his watch, reminding Grace that they needed to go. He was probably anxious to be rid of her.

  “Never mind,” Grace said. “I have a ferry to catch.”

  “I’ll give you the flyer,” Mrs. Gold said, leading them to the front of the store where she pressed a piece of paper into Grace’s hands. Their gazes met and held, and once again Grace experienced a tingle along her spine. Those tingles had led her into the pharmacy field in the first place and had helped her decide to have the surgery. She’d learned to pay attention to them. “It was nice to meet you, Grace. I hope we’ll see you again.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Gold.”

  When she and Evan were back on the sidewalk, Grace folded the flyer, intending to put it in the purse she didn’t have. Rather, she held it awkwardly in the same hand as her phone while they walked the short distance to the ferry landing.

  “Take this,” Evan said, handing her a hundred-dollar bill. “It should be enough to get you back to the mainland and home in a cab.”

  “It’s too much, Evan! I don’t need that much.”

  He closed her hand around the bill in a gesture that touched her deeply. “Take it, please. I’ll feel better knowing you have enough to get home.”

  His kind words nearly brought tears to her eyes, but she blinked them back and worked up a smile for him. “I’ll pay you back. I promise.”

  “No need. It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope everything works out for you.”

  “You, too. Good luck with your CD and the tour and everything.”

  “Thanks.”

  They stood there for a moment before Grace pressed an awkward hug on him and managed to smack her forehead on his jaw. “Sorry.” By the time she pulled back, her cheeks were heated with embarrassment. She couldn’t even hug a guy properly. Maybe she should quit while she was ahead or join a convent—anything to avoid scenes such as this in the future.