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

by Marie Force

  “What’s his name again?” she asked, nodding to the German shepherd who stood at the periphery watching the others cuddle up to them.

  “That’s Riley. He’s the boss.”

  A three-legged cat sprinted from the corner and out the door.

  “Whoa,” Stephanie said, startled by the cat.

  “That’d be Trio,” Grant said.

  “What’s wrong with Riley?”

  “He’s missing his hind legs.”

  Stephanie whimpered. “I can’t imagine how anyone…”

  “I know.”

  She raised Sam, the blind fur ball, to her chest for a snuggle. “It’s good of your sister to take them in.”

  “She’s been taking in strays since she was a little kid.” Grant glanced at her black shirt. “Sam has you all covered in white hair.”

  Stephanie’s eyes were closed, her lips parted. “I don’t care.”

  Grant swallowed hard as another burst of lust hit him like a punch to the gut. “I haven’t had much luck getting them to go outside today. They don’t like the storm.”

  “Of course they don’t.” She kissed Sam and put her down with the others. “Come on, guys. Let’s go out.”

  Grant watched in stunned amazement as she herded the menagerie out the bedroom door. They scurried after her like they’d known her forever. He wondered if they recognized a fellow traveler, someone who’d been mistreated herself.

  Riley, bringing up the rear, scooted himself along. He stopped to give Grant a searching look.

  “I know, man. She’s special. Don’t worry, I get it.”

  Seeming satisfied, Riley continued on his way to the back door.

  Grant felt like he’d been standing on a chair and someone had kicked it out from under him. His equilibrium was all out of whack, and he had a sudden, uncomfortable feeling that the young woman with the difficult past and a way with animals might be the only one who could help him recover his balance.

  Even though it was pouring rain, Stephanie stayed outside until each of the dogs had at least gone pee. She came in the back door and removed her coat, hanging it on a hook to dry. The obedient animals trooped into their room and took to their beds, probably relieved to be out of the storm.

  Running her fingers through her damp hair, she contemplated the shadows in the dark hallway. The light from the fireplace flickering in the living room was all that kept the house from being totally dark.

  Stephanie was struck by a memory of being alone in the apartment she’d shared with her mother. The power had gone out because her mother hadn’t paid the bill—again. There’d been a storm, a lot like tonight, with wind and rain. Howling wind that had scared her. She’d been about six then.

  Her mother had been gone a long time that night. Hours. She could still remember the raw fear of the dark, the storm, the loneliness, the wondering if she might die there all alone.

  “Stephanie?”

  Grant’s voice startled her out of the reflection. Where had that memory come from? She hadn’t thought of that night in years.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Of course. I should probably go back to the marina.”

  “I couldn’t stand to think of you all alone in that big dark building with this insane storm going on.”

  “Why?” The second the word left her lips, she wanted to reach out and take it back.

  The question clearly took him by surprise, too. “What do you mean why?”

  Stephanie cleared her throat and forced her gaze to meet his. “I mean why do you care if I’m there alone? You don’t even like me.”

  Exasperated, he glanced up at the ceiling before he looked at her again. “I never said I don’t like you.”

  “All we do is fight.”

  “That’s not all we do.”

  The veiled reference to what had transpired the night before once again filled her with heat. Even though she was under no illusions that he was suddenly over Abby and interested in her, she still found him to be the most interesting—and attractive—man she’d ever known.

  “Where exactly am I supposed to sleep here?” she asked, giving voice to her most pressing question.

  “You can have the bed. I’ll take one of the sofas.”

  “They’re only like four feet long, and you have to be six-foot something.”

  “Three,” he said with a small grin, seeming amused by her discomfort with the sleeping arrangements conversation.

  She swallowed hard. “You can’t sleep on a four-foot sofa.”

  Shrugging, he said, “I’ll make it work.”

  Still holding the flashlight, he studied her with those eyes that made her feel naked even when she was fully dressed, as if he could see all her secrets and was having a laugh at her expense. No, that wasn’t fair. He wasn’t unkind. Clueless sometimes, but never unkind.

  “Let’s go sit by the fire for a bit.” He gestured for her to follow him into the living room and sprawled on one of the loveseats. “I don’t know about you, but I’m freezing.”

  “I’m kind of cold, too.” Why, she wondered, was she suddenly so insanely nervous around him when she’d managed to hold her own with him all day? Maybe it was because he knew her secrets now, and hearing what she’d been through had seemed to change something for him. But what? Anxious to end the introspection that was making her nuts, she settled on the other loveseat and decided to ask the one question that would take the focus off her. “So how’d it go with Abby?”

  “Fine.”

  Stephanie waited to see if he’d elaborate.

  He ran his hand up and down the faded length of denim that covered his thigh. “We had a nice chat. I think I’m finally getting that it’s over with her.”

  “Sorry.”

  He zeroed in on her with those intense blue eyes. “Are you?”

  Stunned by the direct question, she stared back at him. “I, um…”

  “Tell me the truth. Are you really sorry that Abby and I are done?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I asked first.”

  Stephanie had no idea what she should say or do. Would it be wise to tell him the truth? That she was glad his relationship with Abby was officially over? Or should she tell him she had no interest in being his rebound girl? Was this her chance to have something more with him? Or was he just trying to get her to admit she liked him as more than a friend so he could let her down easily?

  And why was she even contemplating “more” with him—whatever that would entail—when she had no business looking for more with any guy? She already had enough to deal with.

  “No need to overthink it,” he said. “It’s a yes or no question. Are you really sorry that Abby and I are done?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s hardly a yes or no question.” In need of fortification, Stephanie yearned for a stiff drink. “The more important question is whether you’re sorry that you and Abby are done.”

  “Of course I’m sorry. I had a good thing with her, and I was too stupid and self-absorbed to realize it until I didn’t have it anymore.”

  “I think—” Stephanie stopped herself before she ventured into territory that qualified as none of her business.

  “What?”

  She shook her head.

  “Just say it, Steph. You’ve shared every other thought that’s popped into your head where I’m concerned.”

  Oh no I haven’t, she thought, affected once again by his casual use of her nickname. “It’s just …if she was ‘the one’ for you, the one you were meant to be with, don’t you think you would’ve noticed she was unhappy?”

  “Probably,” he said with a grim set to his mouth. “It bothers me that she was unhappy enough to pack up and move back here after five years with me in LA—and I didn’t even get it until she was gone. And even then it took me another year to fully wake up and realize she was truly gone. By then, she was already engaged to Cal.”

  “It bothers
you that you hurt her like that.”

  “Hell yes, it bothers me. I took her and our relationship totally for granted. I expected that once I pulled my head out of my ass, she’d still be there waiting like always. It was a bit of a shock to wake up a year ago and discover she wasn’t waiting around anymore for me to get a clue.”

  “I suppose all you can do now is learn from it and move on. She hasn’t given you much choice about that.”

  He studied his folded hands for a long moment before he shifted his potent gaze to her. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

  “Which one?”

  “Why aren’t you sorry that Abby and I are done?”

  “Oh, that one.”

  “Yes, that one.” The quirk of amusement that touched his sexy mouth told her he was enjoying putting her on the spot. “Everyone thinks you and I are together, you know.”

  Stephanie nearly choked on her own spit. “Who’s everyone?”

  “My brothers, Luke, Ned, Abby… They all said something about us dancing together last night and showing up at the party together tonight.”

  “That’s what you wanted, right? To make Abby jealous?”

  “She didn’t really seem to care. In fact, she thinks you’d be good for me.”

  “Ahh, I get it. You need someone to fill the void now that it’s finally registered that your girlfriend isn’t coming back.”

  His relaxed, amused expression turned dark so fast it startled her. “That is not why it matters to me what you think.”

  Stephanie hated that his anger made her nervous. She was years past the point where anyone had raised a hand to her in anger, but it still had a profound effect on her.

  Seeming to sense her dismay, he straightened out of the slouch he’d slipped into and leaned forward. Elbows on knees, he studied her. “Did I scare you just now?”

  His insight rattled her as much as his nearness. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said with a scoff. “I’m not afraid of you.” More like terrified, not that she’d ever tell him that.

  “I think you are.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, McCarthy.”

  He shifted from his loveseat to hers so smoothly that Stephanie had no time to prepare. “Don’t be scared of me, Stephanie. I’d never raise a hand to you in anger. It kills me to know that someone else did.”

  As his softly spoken words and masculine scent filled her senses, her heart beat fast and hard. She struggled to draw air into her lungs. “What’re you doing?” The words came out as a nervous squeak that infuriated her. No one had ever had such an effect on her. Ever.

  “I want to show you why it matters to me what you think.” He reached for her hand and shocked the living shit out of her when he pressed it to his erection. “I’ve been dealing with this problem all day as images of last night ran through my mind. Every time you come near me, I get hard. Every time you insult me, I get hard. Every time you tell me what to do, I get hard. Every time you freaking look at me, I get hard.”

  Stunned and aroused and confused and annoyed by his audacity, Stephanie stared at him.

  “That’s never happened to me before.”

  “Oh. It hasn’t?”

  He shook his head. “It’s starting to seriously irritate me.”

  She tried to pull her hand free, but he only tightened his grip. “It’s not my fault you have the self-control of a fifteen-year-old.”

  “It is absolutely your fault.”

  She forced herself to meet his gaze head-on. “How is it my fault?”

  “Ever since I watched you get dressed this morning, all I’ve thought about is getting you undressed again.”

  “I knew you were watching me.”

  His cock surged under her hand. “Is that why you made getting dressed into the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen?” His free hand landed on her leg, heating her through her jeans.

  Refusing to be the first to break the intense eye contact, she licked her lips and notched a victory when his eyes shifted to her mouth. “I have no interest in being your rebound girl, Grant.”

  His gaze shifted back to her eyes. “And I no longer want to be that clueless idiot who doesn’t know a good thing when it’s staring him right in the face.”

  “How can you think this is a good thing when all we do is fight?”

  “We’re not fighting right now.”

  She was fighting all right—she was fighting the magnetic pull that drew her to him so forcefully she could no more resist him than she could avoid taking her next breath. Maybe this was the stupidest thing she’d ever done. No doubt she would regret it before it was over, but right here, right now, she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything. Taking a deep breath for courage, she raised her hand to caress his face.

  His eyes darkened with desire and what might’ve been confusion. He didn’t get why this was happening between them any more than she did, and knowing that comforted her.

  “Steph—”

  Her hand shifted to the back of his neck, bringing him closer—close enough to kiss. Even though they’d done much more than kiss last night, this felt like the first time all over again. With both of them fully aware of what they were doing, this kiss would signal the start of something.

  “Are you sure?” he whispered.

  She shook her head. She was sure of nothing where he was concerned.

  A grin tugged at his sinfully sexy lips. “That makes two of us.” And then he tilted his head ever so slightly and captured her lips in a light, undemanding kiss that blew through her in a flashpoint of desire and need and want. Her reaction was so powerful that she immediately sought to defuse the tension the only way she knew how. “Are you writing this whole seduction scene just so you won’t have to sleep on the loveseat?”

  He threw his head back as laughter seized him, and sure enough, under her hand his erection throbbed and surged. “I can see there’s only one way to silence that saucy mouth of yours.” His eyes still danced with amusement as he came back for another kiss that rocked her just as completely as the one before. “Open for me,” he said against her mouth as his tongue traced the outline of her bottom lip.

  Her fingers found their way into his silky hair as she opened her mouth to accept the deep thrusts of his tongue. A groan rumbled through him, firing her own desire as she pulled her hand free and pushed her core tight against his erection. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Discovering she was braless under her sweater generated another deep groan.

  All at once, he broke the kiss, lifted his head and found her eyes in the light of the fire. “I want a do-over of last night,” he said, pressing kisses to her forehead, cheeks and nose. “This time I want to remember every detail.” As he spoke, he shifted off the loveseat, pushed the table away and knelt before her. With his hands on her hips, he tugged her closer to the edge and settled himself between her legs. Pushing up her sweater, he bent to kiss her quivering belly.

  Stephanie closed her eyes and surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. It’d been so long since she’d taken anything for herself that she was determined to have one more perfect night with him. Tomorrow was soon enough to face reality again.

  He tugged at the button to her jeans and had them off before she could process his intentions. His lips were soft against her leg as he moved from her calf to her knee to the inside of her thigh. Her entire body burned for him, and he’d done little more than kiss her.

  “Wait, Grant—”

  “Shh, relax. It’s okay.”

  She let her head fall back against the cushion as he tongued her through the silk of her panties. He had her on the verge of climax with just a few determined strokes of his tongue. And then he pushed aside the cloth to zero in on her throbbing clit, sending her screaming into an orgasm she felt from her scalp to the soles of her feet.

  “Mmm,” he said, “very hot.” He slid his fingers through her dampness, teasing and tormenting until he finally pushed two of them into her.

  Stephani
e wouldn’t have thought it possible to come again so soon, but he had her on the razor’s edge with only the slow movement of his talented fingers. God, she thought. If he’d rocked her world the night before when he was half drunk, she wondered if she’d survive him when he was sober.

  Grant used his free hand to raise her sweater and tug it over her head, revealing small, pretty breasts. He zeroed in on the tattoo on her belly and kissed his way up for a better look. Was that…Winnie the Pooh? Despite her outer toughness, the Pooh tattoo told the truth about who she might be on the inside. She was a never-ending contradiction—full of attitude, yet the vulnerability she’d shown him when talking about her beloved stepfather had touched him deeply. She fascinated him and turned him on like no one else ever had.

  He pressed his lips to the image of the bear and looked up to find her watching him. “You surprise me,” he said.

  “Because I like Pooh?”

  “Among other things.” He continued to kiss his way up, bewitched by her musky, feminine scent. Keeping his gaze fixed on hers, he tugged a tightly budded nipple into his mouth while continuing the gentle slide of his fingers. She was so wet and tight that the thought of sinking his cock into her made him ache from the effort of holding back.

  Her fingers combed through his hair, tightening to keep his focus on her breast. Gasping and panting, she arched her back, responding to the tugging suction of his mouth. “Grant.”

  “What, honey?” He loved the way she responded to him.

  “I want you. Now.” She pulled at his shirt, her movements clumsy and awkward and insanely provocative.

  Grant withdrew from her only long enough to shed his own clothes and roll on the condom he pulled from his wallet with fumbling hands.

  “How old is that thing?” she asked, her brows furrowed.

  He laughed and scooped her up as if she were weightless. “Brand new and acquired with you in mind.”

  Her eyes widened, and her lips pursed in surprise. “When?”

  “Never mind,” he said, kissing the pucker off her mouth as he carried her to the bedroom, tripping over a dog toy on the way.