Ready for Love

by Marie Force

  She had high cheekbones and smooth skin, and while she didn’t seem to carry an extra ounce of flesh—anywhere—she had full, plump lips that seemed almost out of place on an otherwise spare face.

  He let his gaze drop to her chest, where there was nothing at all to look at, and then farther down to long, thin legs encased in black denim.

  His eyes flipped upward to find her taking her own measuring look—at him.

  Before he could register his surprise at realizing she was checking him out, a moan from inside his father’s room caught his attention. He rushed in to find Big Mac struggling against the IV and the restraints the nurses had said would be necessary when he came to. Grant put his hands on his dad’s shoulders and resettled him against the pillow.

  Big Mac blinked rapidly. “What’re you doing here?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

  Overcome with relief, Grant said, “I got home a week or so ago, Dad. Don’t you remember?”

  “Head hurts. What the hell happened? How’d I get here?”

  Grant looked over to find Stephanie wide-eyed and teary. “Will you go get the doctor? And see if you can find my mom?”

  She nodded and scurried from the room.

  Grant gripped Big Mac’s much larger hand and brushed at tears, not wanting his father to see them. “Hang in there, Dad. Everything’s okay. You’re going to be just fine.”

  Chapter 21

  Sydney returned to Luke’s to find him asleep on the sofa and was relieved to have a few minutes to regroup from the emotional encounter with her parents. She couldn’t believe she’d blurted out that she loved Luke more than Seth. What kind of monster was she to admit such a thing?

  She stood at the kitchen sink and looked out at the water, trying to collect herself. Maybe her father was right and it was too soon to be getting so involved with Luke. No, she thought. It’s not too soon. I won’t let them fill my head with doubts when I’ve been feeling so much better about everything lately.

  Folding her trembling hands, she took deep cleansing breaths the way her counselor had taught her whenever anxiety got the better of her. Funny how she’d never had anxiety issues until the worst possible thing had happened.

  She was so focused on breathing that she never heard Luke come up behind her until his chin landed on her shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Sydney closed her eyes and rode the wave of tenderness and desire that surged through her at the sound of his familiar voice. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

  He massaged her shoulders. “Then why are you tighter than a drum?”

  “You shouldn’t be on your foot.”

  “I’m not.”

  She looked over her shoulder to find him propped on the crutches. “How is it?”

  “We’re talking about you, not me.”

  Looking out the window again, she said, “I’m a bad person. A truly bad person.” The last thing she expected from him was laughter.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Sydney shrugged off his hands and wiggled away from him, mindful of his precarious balance. “It’s not funny.”

  He grabbed her hand to keep her from getting away. “You’re not a bad person, Syd. I’m not sure who told you that, but they’re wrong.”

  “I told me that. It’s the truth. You shouldn’t even want to be with me. That’s how awful I am.”

  Luke dropped her hand and cupped her face. “What brought this on?”

  Sydney couldn’t bear to look at him. Just being in the same room with him made her itchy with the kind of all-consuming desire she’d never felt for anyone but him—and that was the problem.

  He brought her in closer to him, settling her head on his chest. “I wish you’d tell me what’s got you so wound up.”

  “I can’t say it again. It was bad enough the first time.”

  “What was?”

  “I had another argument with my parents,” she muttered, her voice muffled by his chest. “I said something so awful, so monstrous.”

  “About them?”

  She shook her head. “About Seth.”

  “Aww, Syd. Just because he died doesn’t mean he was perfect. Unless he was totally full of himself, which I doubt he was, he’d probably be the first to admit that. I’m not perfect. Are you?”

  “Definitely not. I’m horrible.”

  “You really have to stop saying that stuff. You’re starting to piss me off.”

  Sydney realized she had to level with him, but it was so hard to put it into words again. The first time she’d blurted it out in the heat of the moment. This time she knew exactly what she was saying. “Do you remember when I told you I loved him, but differently than I loved you?”

  “Yeah. What about it?”

  “The way it was different—”

  “You don’t have to tell me this. That’s your business, and it has nothing to do with who we are now.”

  “It has a lot to do with who I am now.”

  He waited for her to continue.

  “I knew, even as I was marrying him, that I didn’t love him as much as I loved you,” she said. “There. See what I mean? I’m a horrible, horrible person to even think that, let alone say it out loud.”

  “It must’ve been bothering you if you felt the need to say it at all.”

  “What was bothering me is my parents refusing to accept how profoundly they influenced me in the past. I won’t allow that to happen again.”

  “Syd, look at me.”

  She glanced up to meet his intense gaze.

  “You don’t have to explain yourself to me or them or anyone. And you don’t have to justify your feelings, certainly not to me. Because I know you, I have no doubt you were a faithful, dedicated, devoted wife to him and a wonderful mother to your children. What else matters?”

  “If I’d followed my heart way back when, I never would’ve given Seth the time of day because I still would’ve been with you.”

  “But then you never would’ve had Max or Malena, and look at what you would’ve missed. You can’t have regrets, Syd. There’s just no point to that.”

  “If I hadn’t been such a stupid fool, do you think we would’ve stayed together? Made it work?”

  “I’d like to think so, but we were awfully young. We probably would’ve made a holy mess of it and proved your parents right. Maybe everything happened the way it did because we weren’t meant to get our shot until later in life.”

  “You’re so rational and sane.”

  “One of us has to be.”

  That earned him a reluctant smile.

  “You’re not a bad person, Syd. Being back with me again has stirred up some old crap that has you questioning decisions you made a long time ago. I understand that, but nothing good will come of second-guessing yourself now.”

  Hadn’t she learned there was no point in harboring regrets? That all we have is right now? However, knowing that didn’t do much to assuage her guilt.

  “Could I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” she said, unnerved by his serious expression.

  “Are you going to be able to get past the guilt and allow yourself to be happy again?”

  Sydney stared at him, dumbfounded by the question and how he’d honed right in on her thoughts. “I, ah. . .”

  “It’s a decision you have to make to not let guilt ruin the rest of your life.”

  He was right, and she knew it. Still, the guilt had been ever-present since she reconnected with Luke. But that wasn’t all that had been present. “Since we’ve been back together, I’ve been so happy.”

  “Then hold on to that rather than the guilt. Happiness is a much more productive emotion than guilt.” He leaned in to kiss her. “Give yourself permission to be happy, Syd,” he said softly. “It’s okay. I promise.”

  “Thank you.” She put her arms around him and held on for a long, quiet moment. “You need to get off your foot.”

  “Come lie down with me.”

 
She followed him into the bedroom and helped to get his injured ankle settled on a pillow. Stretching out next to him, she rested her head on his chest and her hand on his firm belly. “I need to go see Buddy and check on Maddie. And I’m sure you want to know how Mr. McCarthy is doing.”

  “I’m concerned about all of them, but for right now, this is what I need.” He tightened his arm around her. “You’re what I need.” Tangling his fingers in her hair, he tipped her head back to receive his kiss. “I hate to see you beating yourself up over stuff that doesn’t matter. Don’t do that anymore.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, smiling at him. “How’s the ankle?”

  “Much better since the pain meds kicked in.”

  “Will you be okay not working for a couple of weeks?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I can chip in, since I’m all but living here.”

  His face lifted into a sweet smile. “I don’t need your money, Syd, but thanks for offering.”

  She raised herself up on an elbow so she could better see his face. “What if—hypothetically speaking—I move here at some point?”

  “Don’t get my hopes up.”

  “I’m serious. I’d want to chip in.”

  He ran a hand over her head and tugged on her hair. “I’ve got us covered, babe.”

  “I know you make decent money on the boats you restore, but you can’t make all that much at McCarthy’s, can you?”

  “You’d be surprised,” he said with a mysterious smile.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Does it matter how much money I make? If I can feed and clothe us and provide shelter, what else do we need?”

  “Well, there’re cars and insurance and vacations and entertainment and household expenses and—”

  He rested a finger over her lips. “If you live with me, life will be a lot simpler than what you’re used to.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you really, Syd? Because we’re talking very simple and very quiet.”

  “I get it.”

  “I promise we’d have everything we need.” He leaned in to nuzzle her neck. “What other convincing do you require?”

  “We’ll discuss that when your ankle feels better.”

  “My ankle is numb at the moment, but another part of me is starting to ache.”

  Sydney laughed at the face he made and cupped his straining erection.

  His head fell back, and his hips surged in encouragement.

  “Luke?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What if I move here and I hate it? What would we do then?”

  He reached for her hand. “You have to stop that if you expect me to talk right now.”

  She shifted her hand to his thigh. “Better?”

  “Not really.” He sat up and put his arm around her. “I suppose if island life isn’t for you, then we’ll move.”

  “You wouldn’t mind that?”

  “I’d miss it here, but I’d miss you more if you left without me.”

  Touched by his sweet words, Sydney shifted carefully to straddle him. “I have some things to take care of at home after Labor Day. Then I can make some decisions about what’s next.”

  “Will we make these decisions together?”

  “I hope so.”

  With his hands on her bottom, he brought her in tight against his arousal. “I hope so, too.”

  She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  “Now what’re you thinking?”

  “What do you mean?”

  His finger traced the furrow between her brows. “Dead giveaway.”

  He read her so well that sometimes it was almost unsettling. “What if we rearrange our lives for each other and it doesn’t work out between us?”

  “I don’t think that’ll happen, but if it does, we’ll figure it out then.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Why don’t you look convinced?”

  “I want so badly to believe it’ll all be fine, but after everything that’s happened to me, hell after what happened today, I’m having trouble with the concept of happily ever after.”

  “All I could think about on the way to the hospital was how freaked out you’d be when you heard about what’d happened at the marina. I wanted so badly to spare you from that.”

  She combed her fingers through his hair. “It was a good thing I was with Maddie when I heard about it. I had to keep it together for her sake.” Remembering that moment of sheer panic, she shuddered. “I was so afraid you’d been badly hurt or worse.”

  “I’m sorry you were so afraid. I hate that I caused that.”

  “I hate that you and Mr. McCarthy got hurt.”

  “It’s all over now, baby.” Curving his hand around her neck, he brought her in for a soft, sweet kiss that quickly spun out of control.

  Sydney drew back from him. “Hold that thought for an hour or two, will you?” As she got up, he let out a tortured moan. Leaning over the bed, she kissed his forehead. “You’ll survive.”

  “Where’re you going?”

  Sydney ran a brush through her hair. “I need to see Buddy.”

  “You’re seriously choosing a dog over me? You know how to wound a guy.”

  Sydney pulled off her shirt and reached for a clean one. “I’m not choosing a dog over you. I’m choosing Buddy over you—and only temporarily. I don’t want him wondering where I am.”

  “All right,” he said with a long-suffering sigh. “When you put it like that, I guess I can live with it. Of course, I’m recovering, too.”

  Groaning, Sydney said, “Don’t turn into a typical man on me. Please.”

  Luke laughed. “I wasn’t aware I’d been atypical. What would make me typical?”

  “Acting like a big baby just because you’re a little bit injured.”

  “A minute ago you were getting weepy because I nearly died. How fast you forget.”

  “Typical men are also pouty when they don’t get their own way.”

  He reached behind him and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room and just missing the laundry basket.

  Sydney bent to pick it up and put it in the basket. “Also typical.” She turned, intending to scowl at him, but the sight of his sculpted chest and ripped abs made her mouth dry and her mind blank.

  “Syd?”

  “Oh, um, sorry.” She couldn’t believe she’d been caught gawking at him.

  With his hands behind his head and a satisfied smirk on his face, he reclined against the pillows. “It’ll still be here when you get back.”

  “You’re being typical again.”

  “Maybe I can be typical later, too. After all, my kind is known for being after one thing only, right?”

  “You’re injured.”

  “All the most important parts still work.”

  She stopped to kiss him one more time. “Stay off that foot.”

  “You’re turning into a typical woman.”

  Hands on hips, she worked up a glare. “How so?”

  “B-o-s-s-y,” he said, accentuating every letter.

  “I can live with that. Be back soon.”

  “Hurry!”

  Chapter 22

  Sydney found Maddie still at the clinic, where she was spending the night for observation, and leaned over the bed rail to hug her. She was surprised when Maddie held on tight.

  “I’m going to kill him,” she whispered.

  “Who?” Sydney asked.

  “My husband.”

  “Oh.”

  Maddie finally released her just as Mac came into the room, his eyes crazy and his stride determined.

  “I contacted the head of obstetrics at Women and Infants in Providence. She said we can come over in the morning, and she’ll see you at noon.”

  “No,” Maddie said.

  His eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “What’d you mean ‘no’?”

  “Sydney, will you please tell my husband what the word
‘no’ means?”

  “Um, I’d rather not get involved. I’ll just wait outside.”

  Maddie’s hand clamped down on her arm. “If you leave, I’ll kill you after I kill him,” she said through gritted teeth.

  Sydney suppressed a chuckle.

  “Maddie, listen to me,” Mac said, clearly working at keeping his tone calm.

  “I’m not leaving the island. I’m in perfectly good hands with Cal, and if you don’t quit telling me what to do and relax, I’m going to lose it. Do you hear me?”

  “How can I relax when you almost went into labor three months early and won’t let me take you to a specialist to make sure everything is okay with you and the baby?”

  “The stress of what happened today triggered the early labor, and avoiding stress will keep it from happening again. So if you don’t want more early labor, stop stressing me out!”

  “Maddie—”

  “Mac.”

  They were so caught up in glowering at each other that Sydney thought she might have a chance at escaping, but when she tried to break free from Maddie’s grip, she just tightened her hold. Foiled.

  “Fine,” Mac said through gritted teeth. “But don’t try to tell me—”

  “Will you please go pick up Thomas from Tiffany’s? I need to see him.”

  Hands on hips and a stubborn set to his jaw, he said, “I don’t want to leave you.”

  “Syd will be here, won’t you?” Maddie asked, looking up at Sydney.

  “Of course. I’ll stay until you get back.”

  “If you’re sure,” Mac said.

  “Go!” Maddie said. “See your father and then go get your son.”

  “You’re reminding me of the day I met you,” Mac said.

  Something about the way he said that told Sydney he wasn’t complimenting his wife.

  Maddie’s eyes narrowed. “Ditto.”