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

by Marie Force

  She made him wait a long, breathless moment before she opened the door. Taking in the sight of creamy curves and a sexy black dress, his mind went totally blank except for one niggling thought—this was definitely not going to be just another date.

  Evan would never know that his reaction to seeing her dressed up for their date was the first time in Grace’s life that she felt truly beautiful. He stared at her with such unabashed desire etched into his handsome face that her legs began to quiver, which was rather dangerous when wearing three-inch heels.

  He looked amazing in khaki pants and a blue dress shirt that did crazy things to his eyes. She couldn’t decide what she wanted to do more—run her fingers through the thick, dark hair he’d combed into submission for the occasion or caress his smooth cheek. As she breathed in the sexy, musky scent of him, it was all she could do to keep her hands to herself.

  “Let me get my purse,” she said, leaving him at the doorway. As she crossed the room to the bed where she’d left her bag, she was acutely aware of him watching her every move.

  When she turned to face him again, she found him standing right in front of her. The door was closed. How had that happened without her hearing it? Grace swallowed hard as she gauged his intense expression.

  “You look gorgeous,” he said, his voice huskier than she’d heard it before. His hands landed on her hips to bring her in close to him.

  Her purse fell to the floor with a thunk, and her hands landed on his muscular chest. She knew she should acknowledge the compliment, but her tongue was tied in knots.

  “I keep thinking about that kiss on the beach,” he said, his lips a mere fraction of an inch from hers. “I want to kiss you again, but you’re too pretty and perfect. I don’t want to mess you up.”

  Who cared about lipstick at a moment like this? She reached up to pull him down to her. When she thought of all the years she’d spent lusting after Trey, she almost laughed. That wasn’t lust. This was lust. Despite her vows to Stephanie and Laura, the minute his mouth claimed hers, Grace began to wonder if she would lose the bet.

  He was gentle but insistent as he seduced his way past her lips and into her mouth to flirt with her tongue.

  Grace’s arms encircled his neck to keep him exactly where she wanted him.

  He tightened his hold on her and brought her into intimate contact with his erection.

  She rubbed against him wantonly, drawing a deep groan from him that thrilled her. Encouraged by his response, she sucked on his tongue, which earned her another groan.

  He cupped her ass and pushed hard against her.

  Consumed by curiosity and feeling rather reckless, she ran her hand over his muscular chest to his belly and below. The instant her hand met his steely length, he broke the kiss and drew in a sharp, deep breath. She stroked him from root to tip, stunned by the length and width of him. Trey had nothing on Evan, and even though she desperately wanted to see and feel him without his pants in the way, she experienced a moment of fear as she tried to imagine that fitting inside of her.

  “Feels good,” he said in a strained tone.

  She ventured a look up at him and found his head thrown back, his jaw clenched and his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Pressing her lips against his neck, she continued to move her fingers over his throbbing length. She’d gone a little crazy with the razor earlier, and the feel of her silky panties on bare, sensitive skin ratcheted up her desire to combustible levels.

  “Grace, God, you make me crazy.” He framed her face with his hands and took her mouth again, devouring her in a series of kisses, each more heated and intense than the last.

  By the time he finally drew back from her, Grace was stunned and confused and dying for more.

  “I promised myself I’d go slow with you, but you’re so damned sexy.”

  To a woman who’d spent most of her life feeling anything but sexy, Evan’s words went straight to her already over-committed heart.

  “I can’t resist you,” he said as he turned his attention to her neck, sending shivers of desire straight to her core. “I made reservations for dinner. We should go.”

  “Or,” she said, tipping her head to give him better access to her neck, “we could get room service and stay in.”

  He raised his head and met her gaze, his eyes heated with desire. “You got all dressed up. I want to take you out and show you off.”

  “I don’t care about that.”

  “Are you sure, Grace? I need you to know I’m not looking for anything serious—”

  She rested her fingers on his lips. “I get it. Don’t worry.” Although her heart sank at the thought of never seeing him again, he’d been clear from the outset that he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy.

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and studied her for a long moment.

  It was all Grace could do to get air to her lungs as she waited to see what he would do. If he didn’t do something—anything—soon, she was going to die on the spot.

  And then he tipped his head and touched his lips lightly to hers, starting all over again with kisses that stripped her defenses. Since he was giving off the “slow things down” signal, she reluctantly shifted her hand from his erection and wound her arms around his neck.

  She almost stopped breathing altogether when she felt the tug of her zipper and the singe of his fingers skimming over her back on the way down. Her heart beat wildly, and she hoped she could remain standing on increasingly unsteady legs. His lips were relentless on her neck, sending sensation coursing down her spine.

  Her nipples strained against the tight confine of her bra, and the throb between her legs demanded her full attention.

  He pulled back and rested his hands on her shoulders, edging the dress off in tiny increments that made her crazy.

  A million thoughts cycled through her mind: Would she measure up to other women he’d been with? Would he wonder about the scar on her abdomen? Would he be able to tell she was a virgin? Should she tell him?

  “Why are you suddenly all tense?” he asked.

  “Am I?”

  He nodded and stopped her dress from falling the rest of the way off her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

  Grace knew she’d hate herself in the morning. “I don’t think I’m ready for this after all.”

  To his credit, he didn’t exhibit an ounce of disappointment. “That’s okay.” He arranged her dress so it was back where it belonged. “We’re not in any rush.”

  Relieved that he didn’t seem mad with her for letting things get so far and then pulling the plug, Grace leaned her forehead against his chest. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I hope you know that.”

  His arms came around her, and his fingers combed through her hair in a gesture almost as seductive as his kisses. “It’s okay, Grace. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready.”

  “We hardly know each other.”

  “And yet there’s an undeniable sizzle.”

  “Yes.”

  “You might not believe this, but I’ve never experienced a sizzle quite like ours.”

  “Really?”

  He kissed the top of her head and used a finger on her chin to compel her to look up at him. “Really,” he said, punctuating the word with a soft kiss. “Let’s go get some dinner. What do you say?”

  He was so sweet and considerate that she wanted to take it all back and tell him she was ready to get naked with him. Instead, she turned her back to him and pointed to her zipper. With his lips teasing her neck from behind, he raised the zipper and had her about to beg by the time he was done.

  “That’s not fair,” she said.

  “Sorry.” His chuckle gave him away as anything but sorry.

  “Give me a minute to repair the damage.” She ducked into the bathroom, closed the door and was shocked by what she saw in the mirror—swollen lips, smeared lipstick and glassy eyes.

  “So this is what passion looks like,” she whispered as she wiped off the lipstick and reapplied
it the way Stephanie had taught her. Studying her reflection, she took cleansing breaths to calm her racing heart and out-of-control hormones.

  Maybe by the time they had dinner and got to know each other a little better, she’d be more comfortable getting naked with him. He seemed to want her as much as she wanted him. He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in a relationship, and with the huge challenge she was about to undertake with the pharmacy, it wasn’t a good time for her to get involved, either.

  So who would be harmed by a weekend fling? No one, she decided as she blotted her lips and ran a brush through her hair. “After dinner,” she whispered. “We’ll try this again.”

  After parting with Stephanie, who was anxious to get back to Grant, Laura took a leisurely walk through town, window-shopping and enjoying the salt air. As soon as the sun began to dip toward the horizon, the warmth of the day was replaced by a September chill that had Laura wishing for a sweater.

  On the far end of the town, the Sand & Surf Hotel beckoned her home. A riot of gables and craggy corners illuminated by the setting sun, the hotel’s shingled exterior was in need of a good pressure washing, which was just one of many items on her extensive to-do list. Thinking about the renovation and redecoration project had helped to preserve her sanity as she’d gone through the torture of ripping apart the life she’d planned to lead with her philandering husband.

  For the first time since her bridesmaids had broken the news about finding her new husband’s dating profile alive and well online, Laura felt like she could breathe again. Thank God she didn’t have to go back to the mainland any time soon to face well-meaning friends and family members who looked at her with such pity. Instead, she could throw herself into creating a whole new life here on the island in a place where she and her unborn child could put down roots and make some friends.

  The afternoon she’d spent with Stephanie and Grace had gone a long way toward restoring her spirits. Her new friends hadn’t been witnesses to her epic disaster, and while they knew she was nursing deep wounds, they didn’t look at her with pity or sympathy or hover around her as if she might shatter at any moment the way her friends at home did.

  Laura took a deep breath of the fragrant sea air and watched a pair of gulls dive into the surf in search of dinner. She’d done the right thing moving here. No matter how things worked out at the hotel, being on the island had always felt right to her. Being anywhere other than Providence would be an improvement, but being here in the home of her heart went a long way toward soothing the still-festering wound on her soul.

  Taking the stairs to the hotel, she wondered if Owen was around. As she had the thought, her heart did a funny thudding thing that she attributed to the exercise. What else could it be? Her key gave her fits again, but when she wiggled it the way Owen had shown her, it finally gave way.

  Once inside, she was drawn to the music coming from the sitting room Owen used whenever he was on the island. His grandparents, who owned the hotel, made sure a suite was always clean and ready for him even as the rest of the hotel fell into disrepair.

  Laura followed the music and found him sitting on a rail-back chair he’d dragged in from the dining room, facing the breathtaking view of the ocean at sunset. His broad shoulders were bent over the guitar, and his mop of dirty blond hair was in the usual disarray. One of these days, she would probably indulge the ever-present desire to reach up and straighten it with her fingers. That thought led to another of those mysterious thuds from her heart. Resting her hand over the misbehaving organ, she knew she really ought to take it easy. She had the baby to consider.

  Hesitant to disturb Owen, she stood in the doorway, mesmerized by his deep voice. She recognized the song, “Please Come to Boston,” about a musician hoping to convince his love to join him on the road as she tried to lure him home to her.

  Caught up in the melody and the lyrics about the man from Tennessee, she almost didn’t hear her cell phone ring. Before it could bother Owen, she withdrew it from her pocket and stepped into the lobby to take the call without checking the caller ID.

  “Hello?”

  “What the hell have you done, Laura?” her husband Justin’s angry voice startled her. She hadn’t heard from him since the ugly night several weeks earlier when she’d confronted him about their divergent definitions of marriage and thrown him out of their apartment. “You filed for divorce? Are you out of your freaking mind?”

  Laura forced herself to remain calm. “What would you expect me to do?”

  “Have you given any thought to how this will look to people? We haven’t even been married for four months!”

  “And whose fault is that? Were you thinking of how it would look to people when you made a date with one of my friends—after we were married?”

  “I told you that was a mistake. Nothing happened. I haven’t been unfaithful to you. I don’t know how many ways I can say that.”

  “You were unfaithful the minute you made that date and showed up to keep it.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. Meet me at the apartment tonight, and we’ll talk it through.”

  “That’s going to be impossible for two reasons—one, I’m not in Providence, and two, we no longer live in the apartment.”

  “What’re you talking about? This is just a bump in the road. Of course we live there.”

  Laura hated the way her hands shook and her heart raced. Not trusting her legs, she lowered herself to the stairs that led to the second-floor guestrooms. “No, we don’t. I cleaned out the apartment and returned the keys to the landlord two days ago.”

  “You did what? Where’s all our stuff?”

  “Our stuff, the wedding gifts we hadn’t even opened before you started dating again, were returned. Your stuff will be delivered to your mother’s house on Tuesday, and my stuff is with me.”

  “You sent it to my mother,” he said, his voice flat and cold. “Fabulous. That’s just great, Laura. And what am I supposed to tell her when everything I own lands on her doorstep?”

  “You can tell her the same thing I was forced to tell my father when I informed him that my marriage is already over.”

  “You told your father?” Justin asked, his voice shrill and nearly hysterical. He’d spent years sucking up to her father, the judge, and was no doubt sorry to see all that hard work be for naught.

  “He’s extremely disappointed in you, but shockingly, he wasn’t as surprised as I’d expected him to be. I guess he saw your true colors before I did.”

  “You’re making a huge mistake, Laura.” Now he sounded seriously pissed, and Laura was relieved to have a good chunk of ocean between them.

  “I made a far bigger mistake in May.”

  “If you think I’m going to support you—”

  “I want nothing from you.”

  “This isn’t over. I won’t sign these papers. Not now or ever. I’m not interested in being divorced.”

  “You weren’t all that interested in being married, either.”

  “That’s not true. You’re being hysterical, but once you come to your senses—”

  Laura had heard enough. She pressed End and clutched the phone in her trembling hand.

  “Everything okay, Princess?”

  Owen’s soft voice cut through her shock and dismay. She looked up at him and shook her head, mortified to realize tears were rolling down her cheeks.

  He sat next to her on the step and put his arm around her.

  It was most natural thing in the world to rest her head on his shoulder.

  “I take it the divorce news didn’t go over very well.”

  She wiped the tears from her face. “He said he won’t sign the papers. Not now or ever.” The phone rang again, and Justin’s name appeared on the screen.

  “Once it sinks in that you’re not coming back, he’ll sign.”

  Ignoring that call and the one that followed, Laura said, “I don’t think he will. He’s an up-and-coming lawyer, and I’m starting to realize he valu
ed his association with my father more than he ever valued me. He liked telling people that Judge Frank McCarthy is his father-in-law.”

  “Surely your father won’t have anything further to do with him.”

  “Oh, he won’t, but that won’t stop Justin from taking full advantage of the family connection for as long as he can.” She released a deep sigh. “I can’t believe I was such a fool. He was always so smooth and full of ambition. I saw what I wanted to see and ignored the rest.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up because you loved the guy, Laura. None of this is your fault. You know that.”

  She shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Hey, what do you say we leave this here,” he said, prying the phone from her hand, “and go get some dinner? Anything you want. My treat.”

  “Don’t you have to play at the Tiki Bar tonight?”

  “Not until nine. I’ve got plenty of time.”

  “That would be nice. Thank you.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “I’m sorry to inflict my problems on you. I hope you don’t feel like you have to babysit me.”

  “You haven’t inflicted anything on me, and babysitting you is fun.” He flashed an irrepressible grin that drew a reluctant smile from her. That grin was hard to resist. “You’ve got enough on your mind right now. Don’t worry about me.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at her wistfully, as if he had feelings for her that he was trying hard to keep hidden. Was that possible? Before she could process the discovery, his usual lighthearted expression was back in place. “Shall we?”

  She took the hand he offered and let him help her up. “By all means.”

  Chapter 11

  Tiffany poured herself a glass of merlot and settled into the single old armchair that remained in her living room. She’d found a flimsy card table in the garage that now held the tiny black-and-white television she’d bought with babysitting money in high school. Apparently, the castoffs hadn’t appealed to Jim in his rampage. When she walked through the cavernous house, her footsteps echoed like gunshots. Poor Ashleigh thought someone had stolen all their stuff.