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

by Marie Force

  Once again, she turned those green eyes on him, and something stirred deep inside, in the place he’d vowed to never go again.

  “You really think I’m a nice girl after what I did tonight?”

  Touched that his opinion mattered to her and mesmerized by the movement of her full, lush mouth, Blaine chose his words carefully, not wanting to give her the wrong impression. “I think you did what you felt you had to.”

  “It was stupid.”

  “Maybe.”

  “More than anything, I hate that he thinks I’m so desperate to get him back that I’d resort to what I did tonight.”

  “You didn’t consider that in the planning for this mission?”

  “I really thought it would work,” she said, defeat radiating from her. “I did it more for Ashleigh than me. I wanted her to grow up in a normal family, you know?”

  Blaine resisted the urge to put his arm around her and offer his shoulder to lean on. No more projects, Blaine. Clutching his hands together, he tried to process his overwhelming reaction to her. It’s because you saw her naked, he rationalized.

  Then how do you explain the way you’ve obsessed about her for months? She’d been on his mind from the second her sister first introduced them when he’d gone to the clinic to see Big Mac McCarthy after the accident at the marina.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, jarring him out of his thoughts.

  With his face hot, his skin itchy, his cock hard enough to pound nails, Blaine stood up, hoping if he moved away from her and her bewitching scent, he could get himself under control. Leaning against the cell door, he watched eyes full of curiosity travel the length of him, stopping at the halfway point and widening with surprise. “So what happened between you guys?”

  She tore her eyes off his crotch and met his gaze. “I wish I knew. When we moved back here after I helped him get through law school, it started to go bad.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Life’s not fair. After I waited forever for him to have time for me, he checks out of our marriage like I was never more than a meal ticket to him.”

  The defeated slump to her posture touched him. “Do you want to call your mom or your sister?”

  “God, no. I don’t want anyone to ever know about this.”

  He didn’t mention the police log or the Gansett Gazette reporter who checked it every day. Maybe he could “forget” to file a report on this one. “Let me give you a ride home.”

  “I can call a cab.”

  Let her. Walk away and say good-bye. As always, his brain and his mouth had a significant communication problem. One of these days, he had to do something about that. Before his brain could overrule his mouth, words that couldn’t be taken back were being spoken. “It’s no problem.”

  “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

  “Don’t forget your, um, cuffs.”

  “I’m not expecting to have much use for them.”

  “You never know.” Now where did that suggestive comment come from?

  Her face flushed to an appealing rosy shade. Realizing he’d embarrassed her, Blaine gestured for her to lead the way out. After she signed a few forms acknowledging her culpability in the vandalism and agreeing to make restitution, Blaine helped her into his police department SUV.

  Once inside the truck, he further recognized the error of his ways. Her scent, a combination of sexy spice, sweet woman and strawberries, filled the small space, reawakening his libido. What was it about this woman? Blaine could hardly concentrate on driving when his cock throbbed painfully in the tight confines of his uniform pants.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” she asked, startling him.

  Shifting in an effort to find some relief, he glanced over at her. “Your address was on the report.” She didn’t need to know that he’d known where she lived for months.

  “Oh. Right.”

  Her voice, her scent, that hair—how he yearned to see that hair raining down on him as she rode him hard—her creamy white skin, those raspberry nipples, the memory of the dark strip of hair at the juncture of slender thighs … A groan escaped from between his clenched teeth.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed.

  “Nothing. Just a headache.” His head was aching all right, just not the one sitting on his neck.

  She shifted in her seat to take a closer look at him.

  Great.

  “Did you take something for it?”

  They hadn’t yet made the pill to cure what ailed him. “I will when I get home. After my shift.”

  “When is that?”

  “Midnight. I’m filling in for one of my officers who’s on vacation.”

  “The chief does that?”

  “There’re only six of us. We all cover for each other.”

  “You shouldn’t have to wait four more hours to take something for your headache. I’ll get you some pills when we get to my house.”

  “Thanks, but I can stop at the store and get some.” No way was he stepping foot inside her house. Nope. No way. Not happening.

  “After everything you’ve done for me, I insist.”

  Blaine wanted to groan again, but held it back this time. How about what he wanted to do to her? They arrived at her house a few minutes later.

  “Nice place.”

  “Thanks.” She stared at the house for a long time. “It’s been in Jim’s family forever. My mom and Maddie and I bounced from place to place all my life. This is the first real home I’ve ever had.”

  “Then you should fight for it.”

  “I have been, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s worth it. After tonight, I just want to be rid of him. If that means giving up the house, so be it. It’s hardly worth holding on to now anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come see for yourself.” Before he could protest, she got out of the car.

  Tell her you can’t. Fabricate a call. Come up with something. Anything.

  Turning to see if he was following her, she shot him a questioning look that went straight to his already over-involved heart.

  With a deep sigh, he reached for the handle and opened the door. Following her inside, Blaine took in the empty living and dining rooms.

  “Come in,” she said, her voice echoing through the cavernous space. She led him into a modern kitchen with a gaping space in front of a bay window that might’ve once housed a table. The view of South Harbor during the day would be quite spectacular from that window.

  In the living room, a single easy chair sat in front of a small television propped on a cheap stand. Blaine wanted to go find Jim Sturgil and beat the living shit out of him for doing this to his wife. Project alert!

  “I …ah …really ought to be going.”

  “Let me get you the pills.” Going up on tiptoes, she reached for a shelf in one of the maple-colored kitchen cabinets.

  Blaine’s mouth went dry as he watched tight jeans hug her shapely ass.

  As she bustled around the kitchen getting him a tall glass of ice water to go with the medication, her full breasts swayed under a hot-pink T-shirt.

  When she handed him the glass, her fingers brushed against his, and once again he went hard as stone. Not since his teenage years had his big brain fought such an unsuccessful battle with his little brain. Downing pills he didn’t really need and the water in two big swallows, he placed the glass on the granite countertop.

  “I have to go.”

  “Okay.”

  Except neither of them moved. Instead, they stared hungrily at each other, the crackling tension threatening to consume him. Okay, it was official. He’d never wanted a woman more in his life. Operating on autopilot, he reached for her. Before he could process what he was doing or the potential implications, his tongue was plundering her mouth as his hands traveled from hips to breasts and then back down so he could lift her into his tight embrace.

  A moan erupted from her throat as her tongue dueled with his in a fierce battle a
nd her arms tightened around his neck. Months of heated looks and barely concealed desire exploded into passion the likes of which he had only heard about but never experienced before now.

  He turned them, leaned her against the counter and pressed his erection into her soft center. When she pushed back, he almost lost control—again for the first time since his horny teenage years. He’d never tasted anything sweeter than Tiffany Sturgil’s soft, supple mouth. However, he had a feeling he’d find even sweeter treats elsewhere on her lean, lithe dancer’s body.

  Tearing his lips free of hers, he indulged in the opportunity to finally taste her sweet neck. A tremble rippled through her, feeding his ravenous desire. He pushed her shirt up and tugged on her bra, gasping as her breasts popped free from the tight confines of hot-pink lace.

  Hands overflowing with soft breasts, he dipped his head and laved at one of those raspberry nipples he’d thought of constantly since he first saw them hours earlier. Groaning when her fingers burrowed into his hair, Blaine licked and tugged and then sucked as hard as he dared.

  She cried out, and pushed her pelvis against his rigid length, almost daring him to take more, to take everything.

  “Blaine,” she whispered through lips swollen from torrid kisses.

  The sound of his name coming from her sent a new surge of tenderness and desire right through him. Suddenly, he needed more of her. He needed all of her. Running his hand down over her belly, he tugged at the button to her jeans, fought the zipper down and plunged his hand into silky panties.

  Tiffany let out a surprised squeal but opened her legs and tilted her hips in invitation.

  Combing his fingers through damp curls, he parted plump lips to find her drenched with desire. “Oh my God,” he said softly. He lifted her to pull the jeans down over her hips to gain better access, his entire world reduced to the tight nub of her clitoris, which pulsed under the finger he slid over it. Her thighs quivered and clenched around his questing hand.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged, panting and tightening her grip on his hair.

  Since stopping wasn’t on his agenda, he wondered if he’d have a bald spot by the time this was over. And how would it end, exactly? Had he thought that far ahead? Hell, he’d never expected to have his lips wrapped around her nipple or his hand in her panties, so what did he know?

  Unable to bear her mewling whimpers or his own pounding desire for another second, he pushed two fingers into her while sucking hard on her nipple.

  Tiffany came with a shriek, going wild in his arms.

  As he watched her, feeling her tighten around his buried fingers, Blaine’s resolve crumbled, and he vowed to do whatever he could to help her get her life back in order. Project or not, she was unlike any woman he’d ever known, and after giving her a quick but intense orgasm on her kitchen counter, he needed more of her. Much, much more.

  “That was amazing,” she said softly, releasing the death grip on his hair. With a coy smile, she said, “Now what about you?”

  Just as he was about to tell her exactly what she could do for him, his radio crackled. As if hit by a bucket of ice water, Blaine snapped out of the sex-induced stupor to listen to the call for assistance at a multicar accident on Southeast Lighthouse Road. The moment he heard the dispatcher’s voice, his raging boner shriveled up and died along with his resolve to help this troubled woman. Moving fast, he withdrew his hand from the moistness between her legs and helped her sit up.

  In a self-conscious gesture, she tugged her T-shirt over whisker-abraded breasts.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, aware all at once that he’d crossed multiple lines—both personal and professional. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

  “You’re probably right, but I’m not sorry it did.” She pulled up her jeans. “That was the single best orgasm I’ve ever had in my life.”

  Taken aback by her candor, Blaine could only stare at her. Trouble, he reminded himself, the big empty house a further indication of how much trouble she had the potential to be. A second more urgent call for help came over the radio.

  “I’ve got to go.”

  “I know.”

  Since they both knew he wouldn’t be back, she didn’t ask and he didn’t offer.

  “Thanks for the ride—both of them.”

  Blaine’s cheeks heated with uncharacteristic embarrassment. “Sure.”

  Her jeans still gaping open, she followed him to the front door. “And for everything else tonight. With Jim.”

  “No problem.”

  When they reached the door, he turned for a long last look at her gorgeous face, now flushed and whisker-burned. He wished he had it in him to be what she needed. “Good luck with everything, Tiffany. I hope you find what makes you happy.”

  “Oh, I will. Don’t worry.”

  The glint in her eye would’ve made him nervous had he planned to stick around. Blaine took her by the chin and raised it so he could see her big green eyes. “He’s not worth mourning over.”

  “I know that, too.”

  He studied her for another long moment. “If you’d cuffed yourself to me and wrapped those beautiful lips around my dick, I would’ve been calling for mercy, not the cops. You can bet on that.” Pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, Blaine reveled in the tremble that rippled through her. “Take care of yourself.”

  He wouldn’t soon forget the image of her delectable mouth hanging open in surprise.

  Chapter 25

  Evan was awake long before the alarm they’d set for six thirty went off. As Grace’s departure time drew near, panic set in. He worried it was a huge mistake to let her leave. What if he never saw her again? What if she changed her mind about Gold’s or the deal fell through or she changed her mind about him?

  They’d never made it out of the cozy hotel room the day before. Rather they’d stayed in bed, snuggling and talking and laughing and making sweet, sexy love until they’d run out of condoms. It had been, without a doubt, the best day of Evan’s entire life.

  He thought about what she’d told him, about her surgery and the weight loss as well as the pain of growing up heavy in a world that catered to physical perfection. In his eyes, she was as close to perfect as any woman could ever be, and all at once it became critical to him that she know that.

  “Grace,” he whispered as he sprinkled kisses on her face and neck. “Wake up.”

  “Hmm. Not yet.”

  “Yes, now. I need to talk to you. I need to tell you…” What? What did he need to tell her?

  Her eyes opened, and she blinked a few times. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t let you leave without telling you… That I really want…”

  “What, Evan?”

  “I want you. I want us. I want it all. And I’m afraid if you leave, if I let you go, we’ll never get a chance to see what this might be.”

  She took his hand and brought it to her chest, flattening his palm over the strong beat of her heart. “In two short weeks, I’ll be back, and we’ll get to see what this is.”

  “That’s a really long time.” As a new idea occurred to him, his desperation lessened. “I could come with you. There’s nothing keeping me here now that Mac is back to running the marina, and Owen can handle the last couple of weekends at the Tiki without me. It’s his gig anyway.”

  Grace was shaking her head. “I need some time to process everything that’s happened and to prepare for the move. I won’t be able to do that if you’re there distracting me.” She brought his hand to her lips. “I think we should both take the next two weeks to make sure this is what we really want.”

  “It is what I want.”

  “Then it’ll still be what you want in two weeks.”

  “What if you change your mind when you have time away from me to think?”

  “I don’t think that’ll happen.”

  “Will you at least call me while you’re gone so I can make sure you don’t forget about me?”

  She smiled at him. “If you want me to.”


  “I really want you to.”

  “Come here.” She held out her arms to him, and Evan sank into her soft sweetness, breathing in the scent that would forever remind him of her. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

  “You’re awfully calm to say that you’ve managed—in just forty-eight hours’ time—to upend my entire life.”

  “I’m not calm on the inside. Believe me. Think about it from my point of view—I came out here to pay you back, and look at what happened.”

  “Best weekend ever.”

  “By far.”

  “You’re really coming back?”

  “I’m really coming back.”

  Evan was rather proud of how he got through the first week after Grace left. He kept himself busy writing songs, performing with Owen and practicing his craft. According to Jack, it was looking more likely that Buddy Longstreet’s company was going to strike a deal to separate Evan’s disk from the bankruptcy proceedings. While he was cautiously optimistic, Evan refused to get his hopes up until it was a done deal.

  Under normal circumstances, the drama unfolding in Nashville would’ve consumed him. It would’ve been on his mind every minute of every day, and it would’ve kept him awake at night. But worry over his career wasn’t what kept him awake at night.

  No, when he lay awake most of every night, it was Grace he thought about. He’d relived their time together at least a million times and had spent hours on the phone talking to her about everything and nothing.

  By the end of the tenth day, he began to wonder if he was losing his mind. Had two weeks ever gone by so slowly?

  Naturally, his brothers had tuned in to his agony and were ragging on him every chance they got. Grant and Stephanie were still high off the thrill of victory in court. Her stepfather, Charlie, had been released from prison after fourteen long years behind bars for a crime he hadn’t committed. They’d talked him into coming out to the island until the media circus that accompanied his release died down.

  Ned had squared Charlie away with one of his rental properties, and Mac had promised him a job that winter when Mac and Luke’s offseason construction company would be renovating the Sand & Surf Hotel.