Waiting for Love

by Marie Force

  “Hold on to me.”

  “I don’t want anyone but you, Steph. No matter what else may be going on, don’t worry about that, okay?”

  “Okay.” She closed her eyes tight against the rush of emotion. It felt so good to be held by him, to be close to him, to breathe in the scent that was his and his alone. “Let’s go to bed.”

  They got ready in silence, Stephanie watching him out of the corner of her eye as she brushed her teeth. At least her heart had stopped racing and her stomachache had let up at his words of love and reassurance. She’d take the partial victory.

  Since the accident, they’d abandoned their usual sleep-naked-and-make-love-as-often-as-humanly-possible philosophy, but when she saw him get into bed unclothed, her heart skipped a happy, hopeful beat. She pulled her T-shirt over her head and dropped it into the hamper.

  She slid in next to him, shivering from the chill of the sheets.

  Grant reached for her and she snuggled into his embrace, sighing with pleasure as his warmth chased away the chill that had taken up residence in her bones during the long day he’d been missing—and stayed there during the long week since.

  “Feels good,” she said.

  “Mmm.”

  “Do you want to, you know…” She didn’t know how to phrase it, because she’d never had to ask before.

  “Tired.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” She kissed his chest. “Everything is fine.” As she spoke, she ran her hand over his chest and belly, hoping to soothe him. “Grant?”

  A big snore answered for him.

  While Stephanie was relieved that he would finally get some rest, she was left feeling unsettled and lonely for him.

  Abby wanted to die. Not because her head pounded from the tequila or because her mouth was drier than the Sahara Desert. No, she wanted to die because she remembered, in excruciating detail, telling Adam McCarthy about her orgasm issues.

  Moaning, she rolled her face into the pillow. Maybe if she held her breath long enough, she could expire before she ever had to face him again. What in the world had led her to tell him that of all things?

  And one of the men she’d been complaining about had been his brother, for God’s sake. “Oh, please… Take me. Take me right now. It’s been a good life, but I need to be put out of my own misery.”

  She said the prayer and then waited for action. When nothing happened, she let out another moan and tried to remember how their conversation had gone from mutual sharing about what had gone wrong in their respective relationships to her telling him that.

  It was his fault. He’d been far too sweet and willing to listen. He’d made it way too easy for her to spill her guts to him.

  Taking one of the extra pillows from the bed, she placed it over her face and hugged it tightly with both arms. Was it even possible to suffocate oneself? She’d like to find out.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Adam. No. Please, God, make him go away! Where had he come from?

  He yanked the pillow off her face. “What’re you doing?”

  “Hiding from the sunlight.” She couldn’t look at him. She just couldn’t. He knew…things…about her that no one else knew. She’d told him her deepest, darkest secret. “What’re you doing here? How’d you get in?” As she said the words, the scent of coffee permeated her hangover and made her mouth water, which was a welcome relief from the dryness.

  “I never left.”

  “Oh. So…you…”

  “Fell asleep.”

  “Where’d the coffee come from?”

  “Downstairs.”

  “How did you get back in?”

  “I took your key. Hid it in my boxer shorts.”

  She couldn’t help the laugh the comment drew from her, even if she still wanted to die from the embarrassment of oversharing.

  He held out a cup to her. “Since I don’t know how you like it, I took a chance with cream and sugar. Want some?”

  Desperately. “Yes, please. Thanks.” Since she probably had Godzilla breath from the tequila, the coffee couldn’t make it worse, could it? And was it at all fair that he was drop-dead gorgeous in the morning? His hair was sexily mussed, while hers was plastered to her skull. The whiskers on his jaw only made him more ridiculously handsome than he was when freshly shaven. The DNA gods had blessed him and his brothers with far more than their fair share of sexiness. That was for sure.

  Coffee in hand, he sat on the bed next to her, pillows at his back, and stretched out his legs.

  Abby would never, ever admit to anyone that she’d always thought he was the most handsome of the four McCarthy boys. She’d thought so even when she’d been dating his brother and had often felt guilty for her scandalous thoughts. As gorgeous as Grant was, there was something about Adam that had always gotten to her, which was another of her deep, dark secrets—one she planned to keep to herself forever. Not that she’d planned to share the other one… Speaking of that, she felt the need to explain herself to him.

  Don’t. You’ll only make it worse.

  But I have to say something! How can I leave that hanging out there without at least an apology for oversharing?

  You’ll only make it worse.

  How? How is that possible?

  “Adam.”

  She caught him mid-sip. “Hmm?”

  “What I said last night—”

  “I’ve been thinking about that all morning.”

  Abby sucked a mouthful of coffee into her windpipe, which was promptly expelled all over the white comforter. Coughing and gagging, she tried to recover the oxygen that had been expelled from her lungs along with the coffee.

  Adam dutifully patted her back until she stopped coughing and could breathe again.

  “That was embarrassing.”

  “Housekeeping isn’t going to be happy with you,” he said, surveying the disaster on the comforter.

  “It’s your fault! How could you just say that like it was no big deal that you’d been thinking about what I told you?”

  “Because it isn’t a big deal.”

  “Maybe not to you, but did it occur to you that I wish I’d never told you?”

  “I’m glad you did. How can I help you get to the bottom of it if I don’t know about it?”

  “Wait… Help me?” A dazzling array of erotic images cycled through her addled brain as the words “get to the bottom of it” registered. “It’s none of your business!”

  “I’ve decided to make it my business,” he said with a smug smile that made her want to punch that handsome face.

  “Really. Well, as much as I appreciate your offer—”

  “Don’t you want to hear my offer before you blow it off?”

  “No! I most definitely do not want to hear your offer!”

  “You disappoint me,” he said with a cluck of dismay. “And here I thought you were all Ballsy McBalls-A-Lot, ready for a big adventure.”

  “Ballsy McWho? And for your information, I am ready, but I don’t see what it has to do with you.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Are you ready to listen?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Always.”

  The earnest way he said the single word intrigued her. No matter what he might have in mind, the choice was hers. He’d never force himself on her. While she’d known that about him, the reminder was welcome in light of what she’d told him the night before. “Fine. What’s your big idea?”

  Adam put his coffee on the bedside table and reached for her hand. “I think we both know you need to shake things up a bit. We also know there are certain things you’re not willing to do, even if they sound good on paper. Sleeping around is one of them. If you think you feel sick today after a few drinks and spilling some secrets to me, imagine how you’d feel waking up next to a guy you barely know after sharing your body with him.”

  The thought turned Abby’s sto
mach, but it didn’t take much to do that this morning.

  “So I’d like to volunteer to be your partner in crime. We’ll do anything you want—in bed or out. Skinny-dipping, motorcycle rides, tattoos, tequila shots, all-nighters and as many orgasms as you can handle. Whatever you want, whenever you want it.”

  Abby stared at him, incredulous—and intrigued. “You’d get a tattoo for me?”

  Adam tossed his head back and laughed—hard. “That’s the part you’re fixating on? Did you hear anything else I said?”

  “I heard it.”

  “And?”

  “What’s in it for you?”

  “Seriously? You’re really asking me that?”

  “Yes!”

  “I don’t know if you’ve looked in a mirror lately, but you’re a very sexy woman who’s looking to bust loose and have some fun. What red-blooded guy wouldn’t want to be a part of that? Besides, I could go for some lighthearted fun after what I’ve just been through with Sasha and the company.”

  “And the fact that I dated your brother doesn’t factor into this at all?”

  “It does. In fact, it’s one of my two conditions.”

  She shifted onto her side to face him, and that was when she realized she was braless. When had that happened? “This I’ve got to hear.”

  “Condition one is we keep our arrangement between us. No sharing the dirty deets with Janey or Laura or anyone else. I don’t want Grant to know we’re seeing each other until I’m ready to tell him, but only because it might upset him, and I don’t want to do that when there’s something else on his mind.”

  “This is a small island. If we’re seen together, it might get back to him.”

  “It might, and if it does, I’ll deal with it when and if it happens. In the meantime, I’d prefer to keep it between us.”

  “Fair enough. What’s the second condition?”

  His expression became very serious. “I don’t share with anyone. If you’re seeing me, you’re not seeing—or sleeping with—anyone else.”

  Abby withered under his intense scrutiny. She couldn’t begin to imagine how hideous she must look. Since she hadn’t gotten around to removing her mascara the night before, she probably had raccoon eyes, too. But he’d said she was sexy and gorgeous. Did he mean that, or was he only looking for some easy sex with a woman who’d declared her intention to sleep around more than once in his presence?

  “Are you making this offer because you think I’m easy?” The words popped out of her mouth before her conscience could warn her they might be a bad idea.

  His eyes darkened with what might’ve been anger. “It’s not because I think you’re easy. I never thought that for a second. You’re the one who thinks that. Not me.”

  Abby closed her eyes and tried to think through the tequila fog. It wasn’t a bad idea to have a partner in crime she could trust to be upstanding. If there was one thing she knew about Adam and his family after all the years she spent with Grant, it was that Big Mac McCarthy had raised some damned fine men.

  What might it be like to be on the receiving end of Adam McCarthy’s full attention? He had no job at the moment and nothing to do but spend time with his family and with her, if she desired. If she desired… That thought sent a tingle to the juncture of her legs and made her nipples pop up for a look around.

  Had he noticed that? Abby opened her eyes to find his gaze trained on her chest. Yep, he’d noticed and was apparently pleased by her reaction if the bulge in his shorts was any indication. Was she actually considering his idea? It seemed so. She liked that he didn't pressure her. He’d laid out his case and let her think about it. But she noticed then that he hadn’t let go of her hand while she did her thinking.

  She turned her head to meet his gaze. “Can we get the tattoos first?”

  His smile lit up his face and made his blue eyes dance with delight. “We can do whatever you want. Does this mean we have a deal?”

  “Yes. We have a deal.”

  He kissed the back of her hand. “Good, now let’s have some fun.”

  Holy fucking shit, Adam thought as the needle cut into his bicep, creating the outline of Gansett Island he’d decided on after much debate. He bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain. He’d had no idea it would hurt this much. Thank God he hadn’t gone with the bigger version of the island that the tattoo artist had suggested. This one would be plenty big enough.

  Focusing on breathing in through his mouth and out through his nose—and not crying like a baby in front of the woman he was trying to impress—Adam focused on Abby in the chair next to him having a red rose inked onto her lower back. Her eyes were closed and her lips formed a small contented smile. How could she smile while a needle was piercing her skin?

  “Doing okay?” her guy, Duke, asked as he rested a soothing hand on her bare back. Duke. What kind of name was that? The guy had muscles on top of his muscles, and his arms were covered with “sleeve” tattoos that Abby had asked him all about before choosing her image.

  Adam wanted to tell Duke to keep his hands to himself, but that would require removing his lip from between his teeth. So he watched and seethed and held back the need to whimper. When had he become so proprietary where she was concerned?

  “Hanging in there, Adam?” his guy, Jeff, asked.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “People are often surprised by how much it hurts, so don’t be afraid to make some noise.”

  “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” Abby said, smiling at Adam.

  While he felt clammy and shocked from the pain, she was glowing and happy as could be. She must have a really high threshold for pain. He used to think he did, too. Now he knew better.

  “Unfortunately, no one will be able to see it,” Adam said, rehashing their earlier argument in which he’d tried to convince her to put the tattoo where it would be easily seen.

  “I’ll know it’s there. That’s enough. For now, anyway.”

  Adam hoped she wouldn’t expect him to go through this hell again. Once was more than enough for him.

  “Almost got the outline done,” Jeff said. “Then we’ll just have to fill it in. That’s going to take some time, so get comfortable.”

  Awesome, Adam thought, trying to focus on more pleasant things such as the sex he might get to have with Abby. But as the needle once again penetrated his skin, all thoughts of sex fled from his brain, and Adam couldn’t think of anything other than getting the fuck out of that chair.

  “That was so much fun!” Abby said, as they walked along Ocean Avenue, enjoying ice-cream cones after the tattoos were finally finished.

  Adam was forcing down ice cream he didn’t really want. He’d much prefer an ice pack and a couple of ibuprofen.

  She practically skipped along next to him. “Did you love it?”

  He was far more pleased by her excitement in doing something wildly out of character than he’d been by the tattoo. “More than anything I’ve ever done.”

  “Are you being sarcastic?”

  “Maybe a little.” He eyed her through his sunglasses. “Yours didn’t hurt?”

  “Oh yeah, it hurt a lot, but I was so excited to be doing it that I was almost high off the pain. Does that make sense?”

  “Ah, yeah, I guess.”

  “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

  “I never said that.” He tossed the rest of his ice cream into a trash can while trying not to watch too closely as she licked hers. “What’s next on our agenda?”

  “You said something about a motorcycle?”

  “That I did. I can either go get Mac’s from Evan, or I can rent one. Any preference?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Renting would be more immediate.”

  “Then let’s rent. You paid for the tattoos, so let me pay for the bike.”

  “Not happening. I got it.”

  She stopped walking and turned to him. “Why can’t I pay for something?”

  “Because. I don�
��t roll that way. When I take a lady out, I pay.”

  “You do know the Stone Age is over, right?”

  “I’ve heard that news, and yet, I’m still paying.” Ignoring her scowl, he took her hand and tugged her along as he headed to the rental place that shared the parking lot with the Gansett Island Ferry Company. Once there, Adam said to the attendant, “I’m looking for the biggest, baddest, fastest motorcycle you’ve got available.”

  “You’re in luck,” the young man said. “I’ve got one good one left.”

  “Yay!” Abby said. “Does it go really fast?”

  “Yes, but I don’t recommend going too fast on island roads.”

  “We’ll take it easy,” Adam assured him. He signed the paperwork, handed over his credit card and took possession of the bike and two helmets a few minutes later. “Go put on some jeans, and I’ll pick you up at the Beachcomber.”

  “It’s too hot for jeans.”

  “Trust me, babe, if we crash, you’ll be very glad you wore jeans.”

  “I thought you knew what you were doing.”

  “I do, but that doesn’t mean everyone we’ll be sharing the road with knows what they’re doing.” He tweaked her nose. “Jeans or no ride.”

  “You’re kinda bossy sometimes.”

  Adam straddled the bike and strapped on his helmet. “I’ve heard that a few times in my life. It’s the curse of being a middle child.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Someone was always telling me what to do, so now that I’m all grown up, I like to call the shots.” He crooked his finger to bring her in closer. “Especially in bed.” Adam smiled at her flustered reaction to the outrageous comment. “Pick you up in ten.”

  When he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw her fuming, he laughed. And then he decided to use his ten minutes to stop by Grace’s pharmacy to get some pain medication before his arm literally fell off his body.

  Abby stomped back to the Beachcomber, irritated with herself as much as him. His high-handedness drove her crazy, but what drove her even crazier was that she was turned on by it. Who knew she liked a man who took command and got things done? Thirty minutes after she suggested they get tattoos, he’d had her at the island’s only tattoo studio.