Gansett Island Boxed Set Books 1-16 (Gansett Island Series)

by Marie Force

  “How’re you doing?”

  “I’ll be better when he wakes up.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  Grant knew she was just being polite, but he couldn’t miss the opportunity. “You could tell me what you’re thinking, hitching yourself to that overgrown cowboy.”

  Her expressive eyes flashed with anger. “You have no right to ask me that.”

  Behind Abby’s back, Stephanie appeared, holding a container. Grant shook his head, and she ducked out of sight.

  “I have every right to ask that,” he said to Abby.

  “I waited years for you, Grant. I put my whole life on hold hoping you’d get yours together so we could move forward with our relationship. But that never happened, and I got tired of waiting.”

  “You can’t honestly expect me to believe that you love him more than you love me.”

  “I love him differently than I loved you.”

  Her use of the past tense was another knife to his heart. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “He’s there for me. He supports me rather than expecting me to support him a hundred and ten percent without anything in return.”

  “I never expected that.”

  “Oh come on!” Glancing at his father, she lowered her voice. “That’s all I was to you—your muse, your enabler, your lover, your housekeeper. It was never, ever about me.”

  “It was all about you. You were everything to me, Abby.”

  At that, her cool composure finally began to waver. “You had a funny way of showing it.”

  Grant went around the bed to get closer to her.

  She took a step back, discouraging him from touching her.

  “Give me another chance. I’ve sold my house and car. I’ve left LA, and I’m back to stay for now.”

  “For now? What does that mean?”

  Even though she was sending the “hands off” signal, he reached out to touch her face. “It means I’m making some changes. I’m nothing without you. You can’t just walk away like all our years together meant nothing to you.”

  She took his hand, lowered it from her face and released it. “They meant too much to me. I lost myself in our relationship, and I don’t want that anymore. I’m happy with Cal. He sees me in a way that you never did. And I’m sorry if it hurts you to hear this, but I’m going to marry him in October.”

  Grant shook his head. “You can’t marry him, Abby. It’s all wrong, and you know that.”

  “I’m asking you to respect my decision.”

  “How can I do that when you’re ruining both our lives?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not ruining my life. If yours isn’t what you want it to be, I can’t take responsibility for that. Not anymore.” Glancing at his father, she said, “Please tell your dad I was here and give him my love. I have to go now.” She spun around and left the room.

  Grant followed her. “Abby, wait! Don’t go.”

  She turned and stopped him with a hand to his chest. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she looked up at him. “I loved you so much,” she whispered. “There was nothing I wouldn’t have done for you, but it’s over now. Please let me go.”

  Stunned, Grant stood in the corridor and watched her until she was out of sight. He couldn’t believe what she’d just said. How could it be over when they were supposed to have forever together? His stomach ached, and his head pounded, but his heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest and run over by a truck.

  Returning to his father’s room, he stopped short when he saw Stephanie waiting for him.

  She lowered her eyes as if embarrassed by what she’d just witnessed. “So much for acting like you don’t care.” She thrust a carafe at him. “Drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”

  “As if anything can make me feel better.” He took the container from her and opened it. The smell of whatever she’d concocted had his stomach surging. Recoiling, he thrust it back at her. “The cure is definitely worse than the ailment.”

  She pushed it back to him. “Trust me. It works.”

  “If I barf all over the place, I’m blaming you.”

  The frightened look she gave him made Grant feel like he’d kicked a puppy. “I’m just kidding.”

  “I know that,” she said but didn’t look convinced.

  Mac came down the hallway looking rattled, and zeroed in on Grant. “Oh good. There you are. I need a favor.”

  “Sure. Anything.”

  “Turns out Maddie was in preterm labor.”

  “Oh my God,” Grant said. “Is she all right? The baby?”

  He nodded. “They managed to stop it, and they’re both fine, but Cal put her on full bed rest until she delivers.”

  Grant choked back a retort about the good doctor. Everyone’s hero.

  “Wow,” Stephanie said. “What a drag.”

  “Seriously,” Mac agreed. “But she’ll do whatever’s necessary to protect the baby. It’s just that she won’t be able to handle a toddler on her own, so I’ll need to be home a lot of the time. And with Dad and Luke out of commission—”

  “I’ll take care of the marina. I already told Luke that.”

  “We’ll pay you like we would any other employee.”

  “Whatever,” Grant said with a shrug. “It’s the best job offer I’ve had in years.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” Stephanie said.

  Grant sent her a twisted grin. “Believe it.” To his brother, he said, “Is there anything special I need to know?”

  “I can show you,” Stephanie said, adding, “I pay attention.”

  “That’d be great,” Mac said. “Thank you both.”

  “We’ll take care of McCarthy’s,” Grant said. “You take care of your wife and son.”

  “I appreciate that, bro. I really do.” Mac peered into his father’s room. “Any change?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Helluva day around here,” Mac said.

  “How’s Mom holding up?” Grant asked.

  “Remarkably well. It’s Janey I’m worried about. Ten days until the wedding and the matron of honor is put on bed rest and the father of the bride is out cold.”

  “It’ll all be fine,” Grant said. “You can’t keep the McCarthys down for long.”

  Mac cast another wary glance at their father. “Let’s hope you’re right about that. I sure wish he’d wake up.”

  “Yeah, me too. Go on back to your wife. I’ll stay with him.”

  “Let me know the second anything changes.”

  “Will do. The boys will be in on the eight o’clock boat.”

  Mac nodded. “I’ll recruit them to help out at the marina, too.”

  “But I’m in charge, right?” Grant asked with a teasing grin, hoping to lighten his brother’s mood.

  Mac rolled his eyes and went to rejoin his wife.

  “You guys are so lucky,” Stephanie said with a wistful expression on her face.

  Grant had almost forgotten she was there. “How’s that?”

  “You have a great big wonderful family to lean on when times get tough.”

  “You don’t have that?”

  She shook her head and crossed her arms. “Are you going to drink that or carry it around all day?”

  Intrigued by how the mention of family had shut her down, Grant lifted the container to his nose and gagged anew. “I really have to drink this?”

  “You’ll be praising my name in thirty minutes.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Stop being a big baby and just drink it.”

  “Well, jeez, when you put it like that, here goes nothing.” Grant tipped his head back to guzzle it down, and sure enough, it tried to come right back up. Somehow he kept from hurling all over the corridor, but his head spun and his eyes watered. “Holy shit,” he sputtered. “What the hell was in that? Kerosene?”

  “Just a little lighter fluid to keep things interesting.”

  His mouth fell open, and judgi
ng from the way her concoction was burning its way through his gut, he wasn’t entirely sure she was kidding.

  “Shut your mouth before you start to drool—or worse.”

  Unused to a woman talking to him that way, Grant did as he was told but took a more measuring look at the saucy waif with the spiked hair. Her eyes weren’t quite green or blue but rather an interesting combination of the two colors. They were framed by extravagant lashes but marred by overly dark makeup. Multiple studs lined both her ears, and he’d caught a glimpse of a stud in her tongue. Grant swallowed hard at the thought of it. As much as the idea of a tongue stud horrified him, it intrigued him, too.

  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 zeroed right in on her thoughts. “I, ah...”

  “It’s a decision you have to make not t
o 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?”