Carolina Dreaming: A Dare Island Novel

by Virginia Kantra

  He talked like a dick.

  Gabe stuck his thumbs in his belt loops. “What, are you afraid we’ll get our stories mixed up? Or are you in a hurry to get home to dinner?”

  The detective flushed red.

  So, yeah. One—maybe both—of those things.

  “I can talk with you now,” Jane said clearly. “If you can pick up Aidan, Dad. Whatever will help.”

  God, she was something. So brave in her quiet way, so determined to do the right thing, to bear witness to her ex-husband’s crime and seek justice for his killer.

  He couldn’t protect her from what had happened, couldn’t shield her from reliving the events of yesterday afternoon with the stiff-necked detective.

  But he could be there for her, as much as they would let him. And he would be there for Aidan.

  “Let’s go,” he said. “I’ll follow you in my truck.”

  * * *

  JANE COULD FEEL the coiled tension in Gabe as he sat beside her in the outer office of the police department, waiting for Marta to finish typing their statements so they could sign them and go home. Hank had left to pick up Aidan from his counseling appointment.

  Gabe’s knee jiggled and was ruthlessly stilled. “I hate police stations,” he muttered.

  To Jane, the station was simply where her father worked. Daddy’s office. But she understood why Gabe felt differently. She covered his rough hand with hers, stretching her fingers as wide as she could to make them fit. “It’s no worse than the doctor’s office.”

  He slanted a look at her. “Bend over, this won’t hurt a bit?”

  She laughed and squeezed his hand. “I meant the waiting.”

  “Right.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “Thanks for having my six today.”

  “Your what?”

  “My back.”

  “Oh. You’re welcome.”

  “You didn’t even ask me where I was last night.”

  She narrowed her eyes slightly. “I didn’t have to. You’re a good man, Gabe Murphy. You don’t need an alibi.”

  “I threatened to kill him. You heard me.”

  “It’s okay,” she assured him. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

  He raised his gaze from their joined hands. His eyes were dark. Opaque. Her heart jolted. “Yeah. I did.”

  And the threat had been eating at him ever since, she realized.

  “You didn’t start the trouble,” she reminded him gently.

  “But I was ready to finish it.”

  “To defend me. To protect Aidan.” Tears sprang to her eyes, shocking them both. “I like to believe that I can handle things myself. That I can take care of myself. But the truth is, I couldn’t make him leave. You did. I was glad you did.”

  He shrugged his wide shoulders. “I’m trained to fight. That doesn’t make me a hero.”

  “It makes you mine,” she said. “You’re a protector. That’s why you went into the Marines, I reckon. How can I love you, and not love that about you?”

  His eyes met hers, stunned. Hopeful. Filled with love. His grip tightened to the point of pain. “You picked a hell of a time to mention it.”

  A laugh like a sob escaped her. “You might have gotten a clue. I’ve been throwing myself at you naked since you got here. I love you. When you walked into the bakery, I was so glad to see you. I was still scared, and worried about Aidan, but when I saw you, I wasn’t alone anymore.”

  “You’re not alone. You never have to be alone again.”

  She swallowed. “Neither do you.”

  He pulled her out of her chair and kissed her. Right in the middle of the police station, in front of Marta and whoever might happen to walk in. Not a quick punctuation peck, either, but a full-bodied, urgent, “as soon as we’re out of here, I want to get naked with you” kiss. She kissed him back the same way, as if she were starving for his taste, clinging tight.

  “Ask me,” he said when they came up for air.

  Her mind spun. Did he want her to propose? “Ask you what?”

  “What I was doing last night.”

  “Oh.” Okay. “What were you doing last night?”

  He smiled down at her. “I bought the house.”

  “What house?” Marta asked. “Here, sign these.”

  “Three bedrooms. Lots of potential.” Gabe looked at Jane. “I hope you like it.”

  She smiled back, happiness bubbling inside her. “Are you living there?”

  “I will be.”

  “Then I love it,” she said and kissed him again.

  “Mom? Hey, Mom.” Aidan came through the door, her father behind him. “Hey, Gabe. What are you doing?”

  “Kissing,” Marta said.

  Jane blushed, turning in the circle of Gabe’s arms.

  “Are you okay with that?” Gabe asked seriously. Like it was a real question, like what Aidan felt mattered.

  If Jane hadn’t realized she loved him before, she would have known it then.

  “Yeah. Whatever.” Aidan’s shrug could not disguise his pleasure. “Cool.”

  “Nobody asked what I think,” Hank said.

  Jane smiled. “I don’t have to ask, Dad.”

  He grinned back at her. “Hell, I know that. It’s about time you realized it.”

  “So, what happens now?” Marta asked.

  Gabe looked at Jane. “That’s up to Jane,” he said.

  Her heart swelled and soared.

  After Travis, she had thought of being with someone in terms of what she would be giving up, all the ways she could be less instead of the ways she could be more. More trusting. More loving. More loved.

  She looked around at her family and took Gabe’s hand. “Let’s go home.”

  Epilogue

  MEG FLETCHER’S WEDDING to Sam Grady had all the ingredients of a perfect ceremony. Like a good cake, rich and sweet, seasoned with tears and tenderness, leavened with laughter.

  Jane, sitting with Gabe and Aidan at a pew in the back, reckoned Meg had never looked more beautiful. Her shimmering mermaid gown skimmed over the gentle curve of her pregnancy. She floated down the aisle on her father’s arm toward Sam, white-faced with emotion at the front of the church. The Fletchers stood with him, shoulder to shoulder, in an impressive display of male solidarity: her brothers, steady Matt and warrior Luke, and teenage Josh with his lightning grin.

  Tom kissed his daughter and clasped Sam’s hand. The congregation rustled and sighed. Clearing his throat noisily, Tom joined Tess in the front row. Forty years, they’d been married. A long time. Forever, it seemed.

  Jane had to swallow a lump in her own throat. The certainty on Meg’s face, the stunned joy on Sam’s, the way their parents leaned into each other . . .

  She blinked hard, gripping the seat in front of her.

  A large, warm hand covered hers. Gabe.

  She turned her palm, linking her fingers with his. Lifting their joined hands to his lips, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

  Her eyes filled. Her heart swelled, full of love and hope.

  But all too soon, it was time for her to slip away and direct the caterers.

  Usually Jane closed the bakery on Sunday afternoons. But the change in wedding date had left Meg and Sam without a venue. With a suddenly smaller guest list, Meg had declared that the bakery’s intimate setting would be perfect for their reception.

  Jane was happy to be useful. She honestly didn’t even mind leaving the ceremony a few minutes early. It was what she was good at, what she enjoyed, feeding and taking care of people. Somebody needed to be on hand to check and re-check every detail before the guests arrived from church. So many little things could go wrong with a wedding.

  Jane smiled. But sometimes everything went exactly right.

  With the right person.

  When she arrived at the bakery, she did a slow survey of the dining room. The tabletops were transformed with linens and flowers. Rows of stemware, borrowed from the Fish House for the occasion, gleamed behind the makeshift bar.<
br />
  She popped her head into the kitchen for a word with Rudy, checking on the progress of the hot hors d’oeuvres, before she stepped through the sliding doors to the screened enclosure.

  The patio floor had been cleared for dancing. Strands of white firefly lights wrapped the supports and twinkled from the rafters. High-top tables in the corners were decorated with glass hurricane lamps filled with candles and calla lilies.

  There had been some anxious moments in the past few days, when an early summer storm threatened travel and knocked out power to the island. But at the last moment, the storm had veered north and east and out to sea.

  Jane looked up at the sky, where high clouds billowed before the wind like fresh laundry, and drew a deep breath of salt air and satisfaction.

  “Looking good,” Gabe drawled behind her.

  Her heart gave a little hop.

  He stood in the open sliding door, his white collar in starched contrast to his freshly shaved jaw, his broad shoulders stretching the seams of a navy blazer. A rush of love for him swept over her in a wave, making it hard to breathe.

  “Thanks.” She smoothed a hand over the cake table, displacing a scattering of pale rose petals. “The cake is the most photographed part of any wedding. After the bride, of course.”

  Gabe grinned. “I meant you.”

  “Oh.” Happiness rose inside her in giddy bubbles, as if she’d been into the champagne already. She stepped forward to kiss him lightly, conscious of the caterers in the other room, the guests expected any minute. “Where is everybody?”

  He released her slowly, thrusting his hands into his pockets. “Stuck taking pictures.”

  She glanced over his shoulder. “Aidan?”

  Her son was usually found at Gabe’s heels these days. Jane had been determined to take things slowly, to respect Aidan’s loyalties, like the books said. She had braced herself to deal with all kinds of adjustment problems that Aidan didn’t seem to be having.

  Maybe her son hadn’t read the same books. Maybe, as Lauren suggested, Aidan’s age made him more open to change.

  And maybe it was simply that her son loved Gabe and knew Gabe loved him in return.

  The thought curled snugly around Jane’s heart, warming her from the inside out.

  “Your dad’s bringing him with Marta,” Gabe said. “I came ahead to see if you needed anything.”

  Because he was looking out for her. The way he always did. The way he always would. The glow in her chest grew heavy and golden.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I’ve got everything I need already.”

  “Enough ice?”

  She grinned, twining her arms around his neck, giving his words back to him. “I meant you.”

  That earned her another, longer kiss.

  “Jane.” He drew back, his gaze searching.

  “Mm?” He felt so good, so warm and strong against her.

  He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something. Shook his head as if he’d changed his mind. “Nice wedding.”

  She tilted her head. “Yes. Yes, it was.”

  “The thing is . . . It got me thinking. Maybe this isn’t the right time.” He expelled his breath. “Hell, I know it isn’t. This is Meg’s day, Meg and Sam’s. And I promised you I wouldn’t rush things. I was going to keep my mouth shut. But seeing everybody together like that—Luke with his family, you know, and you with yours—”

  She took his face in her hands. “Yes,” she interrupted.

  A smile touched his lips, at odds with the dark, intent expression of his eyes. “You don’t know what I’m going to say.”

  She smiled back, loving him. “It doesn’t matter. The answer’s the same.”

  “This matters. What the Fletchers have . . . What we’ve got, you and me . . . I don’t have the right words, but that’s what I want. What I’ve wanted all my life, feels like.”

  “Someone to be there for you,” she said softly.

  “Yeah. Somebody to count on. Something to believe in. Not just you giving that to me, but me being that for you and Aidan.”

  Her heart thumped. She met his gaze, finding her courage in his eyes. “That’s what I want, too.” With confidence in herself, with faith in him, she could say the words. “I love you, Gabe.”

  “I love you, Jane. I can’t tell you how much. You make me be a better man, the man I want to be. Luke and his folks . . . They’re the reason I came here. But you are why I stayed.”

  She laid her head against his chest, against his heart. “Stay always,” she whispered.

  His arms tightened around her. “That’s the plan.”

  It was everything she’d ever dreamed of and more. Someone to care for who would care for her right back. Someone she could trust with her fears and her dreams, her life and her son.

  Someone to believe in.

  Forever.

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