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

by Marie Force

  “You keep telling yourself that,” Stephanie said, “but I’ll bet you’ll be thanking me tomorrow.”

  Grace eyed the other woman shrewdly. “I’ll take that bet.” She held out her hand. “Twenty bucks?”

  Stephanie shook her hand. “Make it fifty. Laura, you’re our witness.”

  “Duly noted. Take your shower, Grace, and then I’ll do your hair.”

  “You guys must have better stuff to do than babysit me.”

  “Are you kidding?” Stephanie said. “This is fun! I can’t wait to see you all dolled up in that black dress Laura found for you and the heels. Evan will wet his pants when he gets a load of you.”

  Grace chuckled at that visual as they left the room and shut the door. She eyed the razor warily as she considered their instructions. “Well, they certainly know better than I do, so here goes nothing.”

  Chapter 9

  Anxious to get home to his family, Mac McCarthy locked up the marina office and restaurant. He couldn’t wait to see Maddie and hear about everything the kids had been up to that day. He’d been spoiled by the weeks at home during Maddie’s high-risk pregnancy, and now that he was back to work, he was far too aware of what he was missing with his family.

  The sun was setting over the Salt Pond in a vivid display of reds, pinks, blues and purples. Knowing how Maddie loved a pretty sunset, he sent her a text telling her to take a look outside and letting her know he’d be home soon.

  As was his habit at the end of the day, he took a walk down the main pier to make sure the boats were securely tied for the night. Halfway down, he stopped short at the sight of his father’s familiar thatch of gray hair. Shoulders stooped, Big Mac stared down at the spot where his life had nearly come to a tragic end earlier in the summer.

  Mac approached his father and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Dad? Are you okay?”

  “Oh, hi, son. I didn’t realize you were still here.”

  Mac didn’t mention that his father would’ve had to go past Mac’s truck to get to the pier. “I was just closing up for the night.”

  “Did we have a good day?”

  Mac smiled at his father’s daily question. “A very good day. A thousand more than the same day last year.”

  “I love that you know that.”

  “It’s called record keeping.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  Mac laughed as he remembered how long it had taken him to wrangle the business records into shape. “Believe me, I know. So what’re you doing here?”

  Big Mac looked down at the water again. “Trying to remember. I keep going over and over it, and I can’t recall a damned thing about what happened.”

  “That’s probably just as well. I’ve heard that’s the brain’s way of protecting itself after a traumatic injury.”

  “It’s damned frustrating. How am I supposed to get past it if I can’t even remember it?”

  The despair Mac heard in his father’s voice was wildly out of character. Big Mac was never despondent. Ebullient, yes, but never despondent. Seeing him like this struck a note of fear in Mac. “What can I do for you, Dad?”

  “No one will tell me what happened. I know you’re all trying to protect me, but I want to know.” He grasped his son’s arm. “Tell me, Mac. Please, tell me.”

  Mac released a deep breath. The last thing he wanted to do was relive one of the worst days of his life, but there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his dad. “Let me buy you a beer.”

  “Is that your way of blowing me off?”

  “Not at all.” He took his father by the arm and led him to the Tiki Bar, where the bartender greeted them warmly. “Two light beers, please.”

  “Coming right up.”

  With their beers in hand and the bartender working the other end of the bar, Mac took a long look at his dad. “You’re sure you want to hear this?”

  Big Mac nodded. “I need to hear it.”

  Mac stared off at the boats bobbing in the Salt Pond, trying to find the words he needed. “We were sitting with the guys at the picnic table outside the restaurant when we saw the boat coming. He was steaming across the pond, leaving a big wake. You got pissed and got up to go meet him.”

  “Why me and not you or Luke?”

  “Because you said you had it, and even though you put us in charge, you’re still the boss.”

  That drew a grin from Big Mac. “Damned straight.”

  “So the guy was totally out of control. You know the type, all power and no skill. His crew of drunken women had managed to get the stern line to you, and you had it wrapped around the piling. Luke and I had wandered over to help when he gunned it and dragged you right off the pier.”

  A shudder rippled through Mac as he thought of his father disappearing from the dock. Rubbing at the stubble on his jaw, Mac took a minute to regain his composure. His father would never know that he’d had nightmares for weeks about that moment.

  “I, ah… I looked into the water, saw you floating facedown, and I jumped.”

  Seeming to sense this was difficult for Mac to talk about, his father rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.

  “I turned you over and… You weren’t breathing, so I did rescue breathing until you started breathing on your own again. There was, um, blood in the water from where you smacked your head on the swim platform. The boat… It came close to us. Really close.”

  “Was that when Luke jumped?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t see him jump, but I heard him land. So did the captain, and he finally killed the power.”

  “Close call.”

  “Very. Luke saved both our lives by getting the guy’s attention before he could run over us in the water.”

  “He’s paid a big price for that.”

  “Hopefully, the surgery fixed up his ankle once and for all.”

  “Let’s hope so.” Big Mac squeezed Mac’s shoulder. “I knew you’d come in after me but not all that about the breathing and such. I needed to know so I could say thank you.”

  “Come on, Dad. Like you wouldn’t have done the same for me or anyone.”

  “Were you scared?”

  “Senseless. My hands shook for hours afterward. I kept trying to picture what could’ve happened, what it would be like if…” Mac shook his head. “Unimaginable.”

  “It’s gonna happen someday,” his father reminded him.

  “Not like that. I’d prefer it to happen when you’re about ninety-nine or so and have driven us all crazy for years being a grumpy old pain in the ass. Maybe by then I might be able to conceive of life without you.”

  “You’re a good boy, son,” Big Mac said, his voice gruff. “Always were.”

  Though his father’s words touched him deeply, Mac went for levity lest he end up bawling his head off. “Even when you were bailing me and Joe out of jail for flattening mailboxes in your truck?”

  “Even then.”

  It wasn’t like his father to miss a chance to jab at him about the mailbox incident. Mac had heard about it daily for years afterward. “You’re going to be okay, Dad. I know it.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “How’s Mom doing?”

  “Why do you ask?” Big Mac asked, instantly on alert. “Did she say something to you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Big Mac tipped his head to study his son. “Don’t give me that bull crap. You know something. Spill it.”

  Why he ever thought he could get away with being less than truthful with his father was beyond Mac. “Evan said you guys have been fighting a lot.”

  “Evan’s got a big mouth.”

  “He’s worried, Dad. We both are. It’s not like you two to fight.”

  “I’ve been hard on her. I know that, but I can’t stand the way she hovers, waiting for me to need her help with something. Drives me batty.”

  “She only wants to do whatever she can to help you get better.”

  “I know that, but the hovering is too damned muc
h.”

  “What if I talk to her and ask her to back off a bit and let you fend for yourself?”

  “Then she’ll know I was griping to you about her, and that won’t do me any good. Trust me on that.”

  Mac thought about that for a minute. “Then how about some romance?”

  “Come again?”

  “Take her out on a nice date. Wine her, dine her, and somewhere over the course of the evening let her know that you’re going to be fine and it’s time for both of you to get back to normal.”

  “Huh,” Big Mac said. “You think that’ll work?”

  “I’m sure it will. Having done the dating thing more recently than you, I might even share a few pointers—for a price.”

  “What price?”

  “Stop snapping at her every time she does exactly what you’d do if the roles were reversed.”

  “When did you get so wise about these things?”

  “Right around the time I knocked a gorgeous woman off her bike.”

  “Best thing you ever did.”

  “Couldn’t agree more. Now, are you going to fix this thing with Mom or what?”

  “I’m gonna fix it.”

  “Good. Now here’s what I think you ought to do.”

  Tiffany followed Abby from the front of the store to the storage room in the back of Abby’s Attic, the Main Street store Abby had run for the last few years.

  “I’ve managed to sell most of what I had in stock during the going-out-of-business sale, but there’s still quite a bit more back here.” She gestured to the shelves that held T-shirts stacked in neat piles, toys sorted by age group and an array of Gansett Island merchandise. “Get what you can for it at this point.”

  “I’ll send you a check for whatever I manage to sell.”

  “That’d be great.” Abby turned to Tiffany. “You’re sure you don’t mind doing this?”

  “Of course not. I can finish up your sale, since I don’t plan to open my store until next season anyway.”

  “You’re saving my life. I’m anxious to join Cal in Texas. His mom has been struggling after the stroke, and he sounds so down.”

  “Are you guys still planning to get married?”

  “Eventually,” Abby said with a sigh. “We had it all planned for next month here on the island, but we had to cancel when his mom got sick.”

  “That’s a bummer.”

  “Big-time, but I suppose this is a glimpse at what married life will be like. You do what you have to for the other person.”

  “Let’s hope your married life is better than mine, because mine was all about me doing what was best for him,” Tiffany said, even though she immediately regretted her bitter-sounding tone. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sure it’ll be much different for you.”

  Abby’s brown eyes went soft with compassion. “I heard that you and Jim had split. I’m really sorry.”

  Tiffany shrugged off the sympathy. “It’s for the best.” If she kept telling herself that, maybe one day she’d believe it. She was bothered mostly by the fact that she’d failed to hold their family together for her daughter.

  “Will you open another store in Texas?”

  “I’d like to. I enjoyed this so much.” She looked around the store with barely concealed sadness. “I guess we’ll see how things work out with Cal’s mom and figure out our next step. All that matters now is that we’re together.”

  “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

  The bells over the door rang to signify a customer, and Tiffany followed Abby to the front, stopping short at the sight of Police Chief Blaine Taylor in his oh-so-sexy uniform. His crisp white shirt offset his dark tan. Her eyes were drawn to the gun belt slung around lean hips. When her gaze dipped below his belt, she quickly recovered, forcing herself to meet golden-brown eyes that were staring directly at her.

  “Hi, Blaine.” Abby broke the tension that arced between Tiffany and the sexy officer. “How’re you?”

  “Um, good,” he said, tearing his gaze off Tiffany to address Abby. “I heard you were closing down to go be with Cal.”

  “That’s right. Tiffany is taking over my lease and opening her own store next season. We were just going over some of the particulars.”

  “Is that right?” Blaine said, casting another intrigued glance at Tiffany.

  She still hadn’t recovered from the first time he’d sent his hungry stare her way. Since her tongue was tied in knots, she nodded in response to his inquiry.

  “What kind of store will it be?”

  No way could she tell this particular man what she had in mind. Not when he looked at her like he wanted to chain her to his bed and have his wicked way with her. Not that she’d mind, per se, but she was still married. “It’s, um, going to be a gift shop. Of sorts.”

  He didn’t need to know that the gifts would be lacy and see-through and the toys would appeal more to adults than children. In fact, she planned to keep a tight lid on her plans for the store until it was ready to open so no one could talk her out of it.

  “Good luck with it,” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Is there something I can help you find?” Abby asked him.

  “I need a gift for my niece’s birthday. She’s going to be three.”

  “I have a few things left she might enjoy,” Abby said, leading him to the toy display.

  As he followed her, he cast another heated look Tiffany’s way.

  She forced herself to remain calm even as she imploded from within. Whoa, she thought. No guy had ever inspired that kind of reaction from her with merely a look. She wondered if Abby stocked any of those foldout fans that the tourists loved. It was getting hot in here.

  While Abby completed the transaction with Blaine, Tiffany hid out in the storeroom. Only when she heard the bells jingle over the door did she release the deep breath she’d been holding.

  Wearing a knowing smirk, Abby came to the door. “Well, well, well, Ms. Tiffany. Looks like you know right where to go when you’re ready to start dating again.”

  She couldn’t even think about Blaine without her heart beating fast and her palms getting sweaty. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh right! That guy is h-o-t for you!”

  “He is not,” Tiffany said, her words ringing hollow even to her.

  “Whatever you say, tiger. I need a cigarette after being in the same room with you two, and I don’t even smoke!”

  That drew a reluctant laugh from Tiffany. “He is rather gorgeous, isn’t he?”

  “Rather.” Abby came into the storage room and plopped down next to Tiffany on the floor. Handing her the keys to the store, she said, “I think things are about to get very interesting for you.”

  Taking the keys, Tiffany curled her fingers around them. “After the hell of the last few years, I’m ready for interesting.”

  Chapter 10

  As he took the stairs to the Beachcomber, Evan realized he was nervous, which was ridiculous. He’d been on hundreds of dates. No, not hundreds. A hundred. Maybe… Suffice to say, there’d been a lot of dates. He was what some people might call a serial dater. That wasn’t to say he was a jerk or anything. As Big Mac McCarthy’s son, he’d been taught to treat women with the utmost respect.

  Other than the unfortunate incident in high school in which he’d allowed a rumor to run wild about Maddie Chester, who was now his sister-in-law, Evan’s track record was fairly clean. He’d suffered a guilty conscience over the untruths his friends had spread about Maddie, and he’d learned from it. By the time Mac confronted him on the matter and forced him to denounce the rumors in a letter to the Gansett Gazette, Evan had been relieved to have the chance to right a terrible wrong.

  Thinking about ancient history didn’t do much to dispel his nerves. As much as he enjoyed being around women, the woman he was seeing tonight was different. For one thing, she seemed far more innocent than the women he normally dated. He couldn’t put his finger on why he
was picking up that vibe, but it was there loud and clear. However, since she’d been on an overnight date gone bad when he met her, he assumed she wasn’t completely innocent.

  “God,” he muttered under his breath. “What if she is completely innocent?”

  “Talking to yourself, Cousin?”

  Startled out of his musings, Evan looked up to find Laura and Stephanie coming down the stairs to the lobby.

  “Hey,” Evan said. “You guys are still here?”

  “We had fun hanging out with Grace this afternoon,” Laura said. “She’s all ready.”

  “Oh,” Evan said, his stomach twisting. He’d heard of having butterflies in the belly, but all of a sudden his butterflies felt more like seagulls. “Okay.”

  “Evan,” Stephanie said, her hand resting on his arm and her expression grave. “Be good to her. She’s a really nice girl.”

  “I know that. Why do you think I asked her out?”

  “We know you know,” Laura added, “but she’s special. No smooth moves, you got me?”

  Evan wanted to be insulted, but sadly he knew exactly what his cousin meant. “I got you.”

  Laura straightened the collar on the button-down shirt he’d ironed for the occasion. “You look nice, but she looks better,” Laura said. “Room 320.” She left him with a pat on his freshly shaven cheek and took off with her arm linked through Stephanie’s.

  Their laughter filled the Beachcomber’s lobby as they headed for the door.

  Although he didn’t appreciate his cousin’s attempt at humor, he was glad to see her and Stephanie laughing, since both women had been through a lot lately and deserved to have some fun—even at his expense. Climbing the stairs to Grace’s third-floor room, Evan tried to calm his nerves by reminding himself that this was just another date. No big deal. Except he’d thought of little else since the sizzling kiss on the beach…

  Outside room 320, Evan took a moment to collect himself. He credited the odd beat of his heart to the trek up three flights of stairs. It certainly wasn’t because he couldn’t wait to see her. That would be crazy and not at all like him. Raising his hand, he knocked on the door.