“No,” she said. “You are.”
* * *
LATER, AS LAURA took a quick shower in his bathroom, Mark sat at his kitchen breakfast bar, worrying. How could he have been so reckless? Coming inside her like that? No protection? He never did that. He’d never been swept up in a moment like that, so out of his senses that he’d barreled on despite all logic.
Yet it had felt so damn good, so incredible, he hadn’t wanted to stop. He knew that. He’d made the decision then and there to keep on going. He was as much to blame as her. He’d tried to withdraw, but he hadn’t tried that hard.
What if she were pregnant? But surely she was on the pill. Though he hadn’t asked, had he?
And even if she wasn’t, what were the odds of a pregnancy after just one time? It had taken Elle months and months to get pregnant with Timothy and they’d done it multiple times.
It only takes once. And even just the tip can do it.
He remembered his Dad’s awkward sex talk when he’d been a teenager. He’d taken Mark and Edward out on a fishing trip off the Florida Keys when they were both teenagers. The entire talk had lasted about three minutes, and the upshot of it was that one time could mean a lifetime of paying child support.
But, Dad was wrong about a lot of things. Like Edward being the better son, for one.
Not that he’d ever know. He’d died three years ago believing Edward could walk on water and Mark couldn’t get anything right. Now there’d be no way to change his mind.
The shower stopped.
“Mark?” came a hesitant voice from the bathroom. That’s when he remembered he’d forgotten to put a towel out for her. In fact, they were all in his dryer.
“One second!” he called. He swung open the utility room and grabbed a fresh towel from the dryer. He opened the bathroom door and saw her peeking out from the fogged glass door of the shower, hair wet, luscious curves only slightly visible through the door. The steam from the hot water hung in the air, heavy and wet. He held the towel in his hands, but suddenly he didn’t want to give it to her.
The sight of her, naked in his bathroom, made him stir once more. He wanted her. Again.
“I’ll help you,” he offered, holding up the towel. She gently stepped out of the shower and he dried her off, laying a kiss on her shoulder. She stood, back facing him as he worked the terry cloth over her body. She groaned a little and leaned into him, pressing her body against his, setting all his nerve endings on edge. He wanted her. Badly. He dipped his head and laid a trail of kisses down her neck.
She turned around then and stood on bare tiptoes, kissing him on the lips. The kiss turned passionate, and the towel dropped away. He pulled her into his arms, all caution long gone. All he knew was that she belonged here, with him, and he wanted to explore every delicious crevice of her body once more.
Chapter Fifteen
LAURA COULD STILL feel Mark’s hands on her, even though she’d long since headed up to her condo to get a fresh set of clothes before dinner. She still remembered the long, deep kiss they’d shared at his front door before she’d ducked out and hurried upstairs.
The whole day felt like a blur, a wonderful, awesome blur. He’d promised to take her out to dinner, and she needed to change. Laura hummed to herself, happier than she’d been...well, since before Dean. She’d almost forgotten what happiness felt like.
She did a little twirl in her condo living room, not caring how silly it looked. She wanted to take advantage of the lightness, of the wonderful feeling of contentedness. She knew how quickly life could take it away. If there was anything she’d learned from the miscarriage, it was to celebrate life’s small victories. The big fails were always just around the corner.
Even the distant worry about unprotected sex retreated to the back corners of her mind. The chances of an STD were likely low. She’d been tested after Dean and knew she was clean, and Mark had told her he’d had only one partner since his ex-wife, and he’d used protection. The chances of a pregnancy were even lower than that. But I’ll get condoms, she promised herself. Not making that mistake again. Just in case.
Her cell phone blared on her kitchen counter, announcing her sister calling.
“I’ve been trying you all day,” Maddie scolded when Laura picked up. “Where have you been?”
Laura hated that tone—the motherly, nagging, you-owe-me-an-explanation tone.
“Sailing,” Laura replied, almost biting off the word.
“Sailing! Well, isn’t that nice. I’ve been working all day and running around the kids in the never-ending mommy shuttle service and...” Maddie began listing all the ways her life was busier and more important than Laura’s.
Laura sighed as she listened. She knew that on some level it was just Maddie’s way of venting, but she wished she didn’t have to make it sound so much like a life competition. Just because Laura didn’t have kids and wasn’t, right now, employed, didn’t mean her life was amazingly easy.
Maddie eventually took a breath and switched subjects. “When are you coming home?”
“I don’t know,” Laura said, hedging. Now with Mark in the picture, she didn’t even want to think about going home. Ever. Not that she should allow herself the luxury of even thinking there might be a future with him. Still, if she went home to California, she’d ensure there never would be one.
“It’s not right,” Maddie declared. “You. Alone on that island...”
“I’m not alone,” Laura said, sounding more defensive than she should, and then immediately regretted making the confession.
“What do you mean? Have you met someone?” Now Maddie’s radar was up. She’d pounce on the little detail like a mother hen worried about a wandering chick.
“Well...sort of. I’m helping a man build a boat.”
“You’re what?”
“Restoring one. He races sailboats. Wants to sail around the world. He might even teach me.”
A long pause met her on the other end of the phone. “Let me guess. You’re not just helping him. Are you? He’s good-looking?”
“Yes.” Very.
“And he just happens to have enough cash to sail around the world, and you’re just ‘helping’ him? Helping him what? Take his clothes off?”
“Maddie!”
“I’m just saying. It’s one man after another. When are you ever going to get serious? Settle down? First, a married man and now a sailor?”
Laura felt the hard sting of her sister’s judgment. Why couldn’t Maddie just let her be? Let her live her own life without her running commentary? You’re not our mother, she wanted to shout. You don’t get to tell me what to do with my life.
But Maddie wasn’t finished. “And you need to stop blowing through your retirement savings. Not to mention, you head to the Caribbean during hurricane season. I mean, are you crazy? If you’d just think for once.”
Now Laura’s blood was boiling. She was so very tired of Maddie telling her what to do. So done with it.
“Maddie, it’s not hurricane season yet, it’s...” But her sister didn’t give her the chance to explain.
“You need to grow up, Laura. Be an adult.”
“I am being an adult, Maddie. Just because you’re stuck in a...” Laura almost said loveless marriage, but she bit her tongue. That was too low a blow, even when prodded.
“Stuck in a what?” Maddie challenged.
“Never mind.”
“No. Finish the thought, Laura.” Maddie’s voice was taut on the line. Laura squeezed the phone against her ear.
“A marriage to a man who clearly makes you miserable,” Laura managed.
“Marriage isn’t always fun, Laura. Life isn’t always fun. Adults have responsibilities, and not all of us can just run away when things get rough. I’ve got the kids to think about.” Maddie’s voice sounded flat.
Ange
r bubbled in Laura’s chest. She was so tired of Maddie wearing responsibility like an albatross around her neck. It was a choice she made every day to subject herself to the misery. Laura had made a different life choice. She didn’t want to slog through the bad job and awful relationship she was supposed to just suck up and endure.
“And what are you teaching my niece and nephew, Maddie? That in life, you’re stuck with all your past mistakes? That life is supposed to be one miserable slog until death? Well, I’m choosing a different path for me. One that I hope will make me happy.” Laura thought of Mark. After all, she never would have met Mark if she hadn’t taken the rash step of giving herself a time-out. “I’m not being irresponsible. I’m staying true to me and to what I need.”
“I can’t believe you just said that to me. After all I’ve done for you. Since Mom.” The hurt in Maddie’s voice was real. Laura hated to hear it, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to regret what she’d said.
“I never asked you to do any of that, Maddie. Maybe you need to look after yourself. Stop being the martyr for everyone else. No one is asking you to be.” Laura wasn’t finished, but she heard the click of the line going dead.
Maddie had hung up.
Laura sighed, staring at the phone. She’d never stood up to her sister like that before, never, not once. Ever since they were kids, Maddie always got her way, and Laura always went along. Older sister bossing younger sister around, but Laura was tired of that. This time, she wasn’t going to let Maddie rule her life. She was her own person, and she was tired of letting other people tell her what to do.
Maddie had been mad at Laura before, and usually, Laura would call her back, apologize, grovel a little, and Maddie would bestow her forgiveness. Not this time. Laura wasn’t going to be the first one to blink. She wasn’t sorry about telling Maddie to butt out and to maybe stop lording her own unhappiness over everyone else. Nobody was asking her to be unhappy. That’s her choice.
Laura brushed off her sister’s call.
Why think about the future? Live in the moment. Forget about tomorrow.
And right now, the moment called for her to find a dress worthy of a nice dinner out on the island. And for her to make that stop at the convenience store. She’d not let passion rule her tonight.
* * *
MARK RANG HER doorbell exactly at seven, wearing khakis and a button-down shirt, looking freshly showered and shaved. He swept his eyes over her outfit—a white linen strapless sundress—and gave a slow nod of approval. She wore a dash of red lipstick and a bit of mascara, and her hair was finger-dried in delicate, easy waves. She’d picked cork wedge sandals and felt a little bit taller, though Mark still towered above her.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, his dark eyes lighting up with appreciation.
“Oh, this old thing?” she joked. Laura had gone through literally all the dresses she’d packed: three. Thank goodness she’d thrown this one into her luggage. She almost hadn’t brought any, figuring an emotional sabbatical on a faraway island wouldn’t afford many fancy eating opportunities. Her mother, however, had always been a stickler for being prepared. Always pack a dress and a swimsuit, was her motto. Laura was glad she’d followed her mother’s advice, which was almost so ingrained she didn’t even think about it.
He opened his arms for a hug, but she went in for a kiss. He tasted like mint and aftershave, and before she knew it, she’d wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, pressing her body against his. He deepened the kiss, taking it to another level and all rational thought drained from her mind.
Eventually, he broke free, panting a little. “Should we stay in and order pizza?”
“Maybe,” she agreed, thinking that despite all the work she’d done to get ready, she wouldn’t mind slipping out of her dress right now if that meant feeling his bare skin against hers once more.
“No,” he said, shaking his head and detangling himself from her embrace. “I promised you a nice dinner, and I don’t renege on my promises. Besides, we can save this—” He dipped down to kiss the back of her hand “—for dessert.”
“Ooh, I love dessert.”
Mark barked a laugh. “Oh, I know you do.” He grinned. “Shall we?” he asked her, offering his elbow. She slipped her arm through his.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said. “Where are we going?”
“To the only ‘nice’ restaurant in town. They even have linen napkins.”
Laura laughed a little. She remembered how small Smuggler’s Cove was, and the main street was mostly lined with souvenir shops.
It was a quick drive to the only “nice” restaurant in Smuggler’s Cove.
“Sorry we don’t have more options,” he said as he held the restaurant door open for her and she slipped through. “But they have the most amazing conch chowder here. You have to try it.”
The hostess seated them in a candlelit corner of the restaurant, which was already mostly full of dressed-up tourists and a few locals. Mark ordered a bottle of house wine from the waiter. After their glasses were filled, Laura offered a toast.
“To my hero, the man who saved me from going overboard,” she announced, raising her glass. Mark laughed a little and clinked his glass with hers. She never broke eye contact as she took a sip of the sophisticated red wine.
“Thanks for catching me,” she added. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to go for a swim.”
“Didn’t think you did.” Mark grinned, showing even, white teeth. God, he had an amazing smile.
“You should smile more often,” she said before she had time to think. “It suits you.”
“I don’t smile very much?”
Laura snorted a laugh. “No. Not much at all. When I first met you, I thought you were the grumpiest man on earth.”
“That’s because you were telling me I was being too loud and it was too early when it was practically noon.”
She chuckled as she shrugged, studying the wine in her glass. “Fair point. Still. You should smile more. You are really...” She was about to say handsome.
“I’m really what?” Now he looked a little suspicious. The sun above them hid behind a puffy white cloud. He put his sunglasses up on his head, and now she could see his intelligent dark eyes watching her every move.
“You just look...” Like you ought to be starring in rom-coms when you smile. The roguish middle-aged bachelor, hard to tame but worth the time.
“Like what?” He leaned forward.
“Sexy. Damn sexy.”
Mark’s eyes widened in surprise, and then he threw back his head and laughed.
The waiter came then. Laura ordered salmon, Mark ordered snapper and both had a cup of conch chowder to start.
“Now, where we were? Let’s get back to the part where you were telling me I’m a sex god.”
“Sex god?” Even though he was that, she might not be willing to admit that to his face.
“I’ve never heard a woman so thoroughly enjoy herself.”
Laura felt her cheeks turn bright pink. “Was I that loud?”
“Louder,” he said and grinned. “Good thing I own the first floor.”
Laura slapped her palm against her forehead. “Ugh. Sorry. I’ve been told I can get...loud.” It had been Dean’s biggest pet peeve, even when they’d managed a tryst in a hotel room. He was always terrified of getting caught, even when they were supposed to be in private.
“Don’t apologize,” Mark said, eyes sparkling with delight. “I love it.”
“You do?” She felt a little shiver of delight run down her spine. She wanted him to love it. Love her.
He gave a slow nod.
“Good, because I can’t change it.” She shrugged. She’d tried, with Dean. But the fact was she couldn’t help it. “Dean hated it.”
He reached out and grabbed her hand. “Dean was an idiot,” Mark said, c
lutching her hand. “You’re an amazing woman and he was a fool for letting you go.”
Laura felt her heart swell. If he kept talking like that, she would fall in love. She squeezed his hand back. She stared into his dark eyes and felt she could get lost there. She wanted to get lost in them.
“Besides me nearly drowning, how do you feel the boat handled today?” she asked.
“Good,” he said. “I’ll need to make some minor adjustments, but I think we’ll be fine.”
“Ready in time for the big race?”
He shrugged. “Not that it matters. Don’t have a crew.”
“Will you reconsider teaching me?” She knew to tread softly here. She also knew he was still reluctant to bring her on board.
“It’s just dangerous.”
She squeezed his hand. “I want to do it. Please.”
He sighed. “I just don’t know. It’s just so much responsibility and—”
Laura let out an exasperated sigh. “You sound like my sister.”
“Why?”
She filled Mark in on the conversation she’d had with her sister. About the nagging, about her disapproving of Laura even being here.
“I disagree,” Mark said after Laura finished relating the conversation. “I don’t think it’s irresponsible of you to take a time-out. I think it’s actually responsible. Sometimes in life, we need to hit the reset button.”
“Exactly,” Laura exclaimed.
“Even if that costs us or even if it seems silly. My ex, Elle, she should’ve done that. I told her she should see someone, a therapist maybe, after Timothy was born. She had postpartum depression.”
“Oh! I didn’t know. That must’ve been horrible.” Laura took a sip of wine. She wondered if she should ask him about what Edward had said about putting her in jail. Was there a reason she didn’t know about?
“Terrible. She should’ve taken some time out for herself. Hit the reset button.” Mark looked thoughtful for a moment, as if he was slipping into the past. “Instead, she limped along. So listen to your gut. Do what’s right for you. Don’t let your sister live your life. Only you can do that.”
Island of Second Chances Page 12
