Tides of Hope: It's Never Too Late For Second Chances (A Nantucket Island Romance Book 1)

by Dawn Tomasko

  Gabriel's eyes widened in disbelief and panic. "Go? Do you think that’s a good idea? Your mom loves having you here. I don't think she wants you to leave. Hell, I don’t want you to."

  Bree smiled at him, as beautiful as her mother. "She wants me here. If I leave, Mom will take help from you. I know she's okay now. With you here, I won't worry. The Dean is being generous, but my job is waiting in Boston. As much as I'll miss you both, this will be better."

  Mouth set in a grim line, he nodded. “You’re probably right. Maybe we need time alone. I miss the way things were with us before the accident.”

  Brianna touched the back of his hand. "Gabe, this is the happiest my mom has ever been. You truly are the right man for her. It's sad for me to admit it, but mom and dad never had what you and Mama have."

  With a lighter heart, he let out a huge sigh. "Thank you, Bree,” he leaned over to hug her. During their short acquaintance, Sara’s daughter came to mean a great deal to him. They’d been through hell together. "Come back soon."

  Later that day, they sat on the front porch, to wave goodbye to Bree as Charlotte drove her to the ferry. Once the car rounded the bend and disappeared, Sara's uplifted hand drifted down. "I'll miss her,” she said and covered her mouth with her hand. Chin trembling, Sara couldn’t contain the things she felt. Gratefulness for being alive, sadness over Bree’s departure, wonder for the incredible man who loved her beyond imagining.

  "So will I. She's a terrific young woman Sara. You've done a fantastic job with her. There is so much of you in her."

  Her eyes filled, tears spilled over to run down her cheeks. "Since the accident my emotions are haywire. I hate this. I don't feel in control of myself."

  Gabriel turned his chair to face hers, put his hand on her knee. "Your body and mind need time to heal. Even though it could have been much worse.You still have a lot to process. There's no shame in crying."

  "I'm not used to acting this way. I don't like it.”

  “I know, sweetheart.”

  “Just being near you makes me feel good.” They sat in silence for a time, with Gabriel holding her hand. When her emotions settled, she turned to him. "Thank you for what you've done with the house."

  "You're welcome. Baby, I’d do anything for you."

  She didn’t deserve him. "These,” she ran a hand along the full arm of the Adirondack chair, "are beautiful. You knew how much I wanted them. They're the same blue as the hydrangeas. When I think of the hours you worked on these, even after the long workdays we put in, I’m amazed."

  With a soft look in his eyes, he leaned back, stretched his long legs out. “Even when I got back from Connecticut and we were apart, I worked on them. No matter what happened between us I wanted you to have them.”

  “You’re very sweet,” Sara reached over to stroke his jaw, loving it when he leaned into her touch. In spite of her need to get stronger, she wanted him, badly. So far, he’d only held her at night, his body spooned against hers, his arms cradling her like something precious. He had to want more, yet he waited. Maybe because of Bree? Michael stayed with them for a couple of days as well, before he returned home.

  "I'm so happy Michael came. Family problems are painful, as we both know. I enjoyed seeing you together. He's an interesting man, quieter than you are.” That made him laugh out loud.

  “Michael thinks you’re wonderful. He said I’m a very lucky man.”

  Happiness bubbled up inside her. “We’re both lucky to have found each other.” Gabe leaned over to give her a sweet, lingering kiss. Wrapping her arms around him, Sara savored his taste and the way he cradled the back of her head. After they had eased apart, she asked, “How are things between you and your brother?"

  "Better. When you were at the hospital, I spent a day replacing shingles on the side of the house, and suddenly, there he was.” Grinning, Gabriel shook his head. "God, Sara, you should have seen him. The guy lives in business suits, and he stood in the driveway in work boots, jeans, and a t-shirt. Everything brand new, I swear he must have yanked the tags off in the car. I'm talking weird here."

  Sara laughed. “Once upon a time that used to be you. Is he still planning on marrying Nicole?”

  The humor in his expression fled. "I don’t know. Whatever he's got to work out with Nicole is not my problem. He and I are okay again, and I can let it go. He wants to come back soon and visit longer. My parents are coming out for a vacation this August. My Dad wants to meet you and mom sends her love.” He reached out to kiss the back of her hand. "Let's get you inside before you get too tired. Time for a shower."

  Sara's smile faded. "Oh, I can do it. Why don't you fix a snack while I wash up?"

  "Come on, sweetheart,” he stood, lifted her up in his arms. Sara fought him, shifted in his arms, blushed to the roots of her hair. Standing at the screen, he waited patiently. "Open the door, honey."

  Refusing to act like a stubborn child, she swung the screen open, and he walked through, straight up the stairs to the bathroom. Carefully, he set her on her feet and stroked her cheek.

  "I'll be back in a few minutes with your robe and towels if you need privacy."

  She quickly used the bathroom, determined to start showering without him, but when she stood up, a wave of dizziness made her grope for the sink. Shaking, she closed the toilet lid and eased down, laid her head on her folded arms to wait for the spinning to stop. Gabriel returned, rushed to steady her with his big hands.

  “Dizzy?"

  After she had given a tiny nod, he sat behind her, arms wrapped around her waist. "Are you going to be sick?"

  "God, I hope not.” Sweaty and nauseous, she sat very still. After a few moments, she let out a shaky breath. "As if this isn’t embarrassing enough, I don’t want to throw up in front of you.” Sara took slow, deep breaths and the feeling eased. “Okay, it’s passing. I don’t think I’ll be sick."

  They waited in silence for the dizziness to pass. After she raised her head, he pulled the shower door back and turned the water on. When he bent to remove her sandals, she pressed her hands against his shoulders.

  "Better?"

  "Yes. Gabriel, I’ve got this. There's a chair in the tub. I can take care of myself. Please. If you just set out what I'll need, I can do it."

  Without a word, he pulled her shirt over her head, then unhooked the front closure of her bra. Goosebumps broke out over her skin as the backs of his warm fingers worked against her skin. "Sweet woman, I've made love to you seven ways to Sunday. I think you can let me wash you. Frankly, I'm looking forward to it. Don't deprive me. Think of it as foreplay."

  Now they were getting somewhere. In spite of herself, she choked out a laugh. "Be serious."

  The dark blue of his eyes turned nearly black. "Believe me, I am serious. Don't you understand? You’re everything to me. Seeing you lying on the cobblestones, then so still in the hospital,” his voice broke on the last word. Humbled by the emotion in his voice, she hung onto his shoulders as he eased her shorts and underwear off. "Sara, I almost lost my dad. Then I almost lost you. The thought I'd never have you back in my arms nearly killed me."

  "Gabriel.” Laying her head against his chest, she listened to the beat of his heart. It thundered in his chest, much like hers. “You don’t need to worry anymore. We’re together, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  He turned his lips into her palm. "Good.” With a firm grip, he helped her step into the tub and she sat on the teak bench. After he wrapped her casted arm in plastic, she held it against her side.

  "Good thing we got the shower head with the hose,” he grinned and soaked her from the head down. “These things are good for more than one purpose, you know.” He waggled his eyebrows at her playfully.

  “Fresh.” The warm water sluiced over her seemed to search out sore muscles to ease the tension in her shoulders and back. "Ohhh, make it hotter.” Unable to stop the moan of relief, she concentrated on relaxing her body. With strong fingers, he soaped a soft washcloth and handed it to her. Aft
er her face was clean, he rinsed her off and took the cloth from her.

  "No,” she tugged on the cloth.

  "Let me,” he insisted and pulled harder until it slipped from her fingers. When her chin wobbled, he pressed a kiss to her mouth. “Let me.” Infinitely gentle, he ran the soapy cloth over the back of her neck and massaged his way down her back in slow circles. The warm, wet cloth rubbed over her muscles, to ease away aches she didn't know she had.

  She moaned again, and he grinned. Opening one eyes to peer at him, her mouth kicked up in one corner. The cloth smoothed up and down her arms into her armpits, down her breasts and belly.

  "You’re getting too bossy, and I think you're enjoying this."

  "Damn right I am.” Her feet and legs received thorough attention, and he handed her the cloth so she could finish washing. “Think I’ll let you steal my fun?”

  After the water had rinsed all the soap away, Gabriel filled his hand with shampoo and washed her hair. "Don't worry, I'll be careful with the staples. Damn, this is a long cut. Won’t it be good to get them out?"

  "They drive me crazy, but this feels great,” she sighed and leaned into the motion of his strong fingers. With the conditioner rinsed away, he helped wrap her head in a towel.

  Then he dried her off. Exhausted, but relaxed, she'd stopped fighting him. "You're tired. We need to brush your hair and get you to bed."

  Late the next afternoon, Charlotte breezed through the front door as Gabriel worked on dinner. Busy reading from a page in a cookbook, he barely glanced up.

  After she dumped her bag on the table, she walked where he stood at the stove to peer into the pot. Using a wooden spoon, she stirred. "Hey, handsome. Smells incredible. I see you're practicing your culinary skills."

  "Such as they are,” he slid two meat forks under a chicken from the soup pot and placed it on a platter to cool. "I'm making chicken soup from scratch. I found Sara's recipe."

  "Wow, ambitious, and sweet, too,” she went up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "How are things going?"

  Rubbing the back of his neck, Gabe frowned down at her. "I need your help. Something's wrong."

  “Ohhh,” Charlotte sympathized and laid her head on his shoulder a moment. "Don’t worry sweetie. I've got your back. I know this woman inside out, and if she needs a bit of ass kicking from her best friend, I'm your girl. Gabe, you’re doing everything right. Keep up the good work.” After a pat on his arm, she headed for the stairs. “FYI,” she tossed a glance over her shoulder, “Sara likes fresh thyme in the soup, not too much, and there's some out on the railing in the herb garden."

  "Thanks."

  Charlotte eased the bedroom door open. Sara sat with pillows propped behind her back, her eyes fixed on the windows and the view of the sea beyond. An open book lay on her lap.

  "Hi,” she offered. "Can I come in?"

  “Hey!” Thrilled her friend came to visit, Sara gave a huge grin, and patted the quilt. "Charlotte, get your ass in here, I'm going crazy. Gabriel insists I need to rest every afternoon."

  Loving her friend’s sassy walk and musical ring of jewelry, she pulled the covers back. “Yeah, about that, I think he’s following doctor’s orders. Can’t fault a man for trying.” Charlotte kicked off her shoes, slid under the quilt and leaned on a stack of pillows. "This is cozy. It's been a long time since I went to a pajama party. Too bad I forgot mine. Maybe I can borrow a pair of yours?”

  Immediately Sara turned her face into Charlotte's neck as her friend's arms came around her. "Something's wrong with me."

  Charlotte smoothed a hand over her hair, the bracelets on her wrist jingled softly. "What makes you say that, sweetie?

  "I cry all the time. I feel cranky and frustrated. Gabriel's so good to me, he takes care of me. But there’s fear and sadness in his eyes. I think he doesn't know how to act around me sometimes."

  Charlotte sifted through the strands of Sara's hair, careful not to touch the wound on her head. "We could have lost you. Give him time. He'll realize you are okay. Then he'll be able to relax. Like you, he needs time to adjust."

  "I want to be myself again,” she said with some force. "I don't like who I am now."

  Her hand stilled. "Who are you now?"

  "A weak woman. I'm not strong enough to control my emotions. The faster I get back to the way I was, the better."

  Charlotte eased back a bit to see her friend's face. "Let's think about this for a minute. You weren't happy before. You wanted to feel, to experience more. Now you are. Because you're out of your comfort zone, it's scary. Instead of thinking of it as weakness, why not think of it as a way for you to tap into your feelings?"

  Could it be that simple? "So this is not just the accident, but how I am?"

  Charlotte lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "I think it could be a little of both, but you could try to roll with it and see what happens. Until we forced him to for his sake, Gabe never left your side, night, and day. The idea that you might not wake up devastated him. All of us. In my humble opinion, I've seldom seen the kind of love he has for you."

  Eyes filling with tears, Sara toyed with Charlotte's bracelets. "I love him the same way."

  "Maybe it's time you let him know."

  "You’re right. It is. Charlotte, all my life I thought if I could make a quiet life for myself, I would be safe. My childhood home wasn’t safe to me. When I married David, I engineered a marriage where I called the shots, kept him at a distance, controlled everything, just for that illusion of safety. I came here to create a quiet, safe life."

  “No, you didn’t!” Charlotte yelled at her, bounced on the mattress, facing her squarely. Yelled! “Girlfriend, you left your husband, your job, packed up a whole way of life and came to this island for a new one.”

  Shocked over the flush of Charlotte’s face, the flinty determination in her eyes, Sara blinked. “What did you find? An exciting, hot man who’s crazy about you. Ready or not, this is your life! A wild, sexy adventure and so help me, if you screw this up, I’ll never let you live it down.”

  After a long pause, Sara burst out laughing. Charlotte joined in, and they laughed until tears ran down their cheeks. “Oh, thank you, sweetie. I love you so much. You’re the best friend ever. How do you put up with me? Thank you.” After Charlotte crawled back in the bed, Sara leaned over and placed her hand on Charlotte's baby bump. "We're going to have lots of fun with this little one. You'll make an amazing mom."

  "I have an excellent role model,” Charlotte nudged her.

  Sara gave her friend’s shoulder a playful shove. “You yelled at me!”

  Charlotte shoved right back. “Bet your ass, I did.”

  "I have so many things to be grateful for. Brianna and I are good now. There's you, Gary and the baby. I have an incredible man who loves me beyond my wildest hopes.” Sara eased back on the pillows. "The house amazing. I love it here and don't ever want to leave. I'm home."

  "That reminds me.” Charlotte sat up with another little bounce, sending her curls bouncing and bracelets ringing. "Good news. The owner decided to put off the sale of the house. You're free to stay as long as you want."

  Sara wiped at her eyes, which wouldn’t stop leaking. Maybe there was truth to the idea that tears came when your body couldn’t contain emotion. Right now, Sara’s heart overflowed. "Are you serious?"

  "Yes,” she handed her a tissue. "Treat the house as your own. Do whatever you like, decorate, garden, rename it. No house is ever done. You and Gabe can come up with plenty of projects, can't you?"

  Elated, Sara grinned. "Yes, we can. First comes the yard for one. I barely got started on it. We concentrated more on the structural and cosmetics. It should look fantastic, not only for me but to showcase my work. I can bring clients here and show them what I can do."

  “Now, you’re on a roll.” Her friend's eyes sparkled. "Enjoy the summer, the fall, and be happy.”

  No plans, no worries about the future. Without a doubt, Sara knew she could live day to day, in the moment. By
those who loved her and a real miracle, she'd been given a second chance in life. As fog fades under the bright light of day, her thoughts and emotions crystallized. Her moment had arrived, with the opportunity to seize life with both hands and live it the way she always longed to.

  Elated, free and filled with joyful anticipation for the days and years ahead, she laughed out loud.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Sara came awake with a start. The sudden movement she'd made sent a shaft of pain through her broken arm. Using her uninjured arm, she levered up, scooted back to lean back on the headboard to look out of the windows. Charlotte had stayed with her until she nodded off. The sun had long since sunk below the horizon. The room was dark.

  "Gabriel?” she called out.

  "Right here,” he appeared, silhouetted in the doorway, then crawled toward her on the bed. With a strong arm on either side of her hips, he kissed her forehead. "I was in the spare bedroom on the phone with my family. Everything okay?"

  "When I woke up I didn’t remember where I was. Lay with me?”

  Snuggled close, her head tucked under his chin, she let out a contented sigh. Sara let her fingers trail up and down the muscles of his belly. The muscles twitched in response, and he stretched closer in response. "This is so much better than the hospital."

  "Yeah, it is,” he said with feeling, his low voice reminded her of water over gravel. "Do you want the light on?"

  "Sure."

  After he switched on the lamp, he turned back to her. She shifted, faced him, stroked his cheek with her free hand. So still, he watched her, and she could see how he'd suffered, wondering if she would ever come out of the coma. Dark circles rimmed bloodshot eyes, lines bracketed his mouth. Even now, he held back, feeling her out, careful to do the right thing. It had to stop, now. Since he brought her home, two things became crystal clear.

  He loved her beyond telling, and he was sad. The last part, the sadness, she'd put there. Time to take it away.

  "I need to talk to you about something important.” When he stiffened, she smoothed her fingertips through the hair on his chest. Maybe the accident was meant to be, as bizarre as it seemed. "All my life I've held on too tight, to prevent disaster. What did it do for me? Who did it protect? Defense mechanisms serve their purpose in their time. But if you don’t let them go, they do more harm than good in the long run."