by Marie Force
“Owen, please. Go.”
“Shhh. It’s okay.”
“So gross.”
“Nah.” He smoothed the hair off her forehead. “You think it’s something you ate?”
She shook her head.
“Maybe a bug, then.”
“Not a bug.” She flushed the toilet and sagged against him like a ragdoll.
Owen felt like he was missing something, but his immediate concern was her white face and limp body. “Is it over?”
“I hope so. You don’t have to stay.”
“I don’t mind.” Oddly enough, Owen discovered he rather liked having her snuggled up to him, even if she was sick. Owen in his right mind would’ve turned tail and ran the first time she told him to. “I brought you coffee, but I doubt that holds much appeal at the moment.”
Her moan answered for her.
He slid an arm under her legs. “Hold on, Princess.”
When she linked her arms around his neck, he hoisted her off the floor and carried her to bed. He tucked the covers in around her and sat on the edge of the mattress. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, thanks.”
Reaching for her hand, he held it between both of his. “You wanna talk about it?”
As tears flooded her eyes, she shook her head.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”
Keeping her face turned away from him, she stared out the window at the view of the vast ocean. “I’m pregnant.”
Shock ricocheted through him. “Oh, Princess…”
“Pathetic, huh? Knocked up by my cheating husband. I’m like a bad chick flick.”
“I’m sorry. How long have you known?”
“Since the day before I came here for the wedding.”
Owen winced. “Ouch. Well, if it’s any consolation, no one would’ve known you were suffering at the wedding. You were a devoted bridesmaid.”
She ventured a glance up at him. “How do you know that?”
“I had my eye on you.”
“Oh. You did?”
“Uh-huh. It can get sort of boring up there on the stage singing the same old songs night after night. Checking out the pretty girls keeps things interesting.”
For the first time, a tinge of color appeared in her ghostly pale cheeks. “You don’t have to say things like that to make me feel better.”
“Hang around with me long enough and you’ll discover I never say anything I don’t mean.”
“I’m sorry you had to see me puke.”
“Everyone does it at one time or another.”
“I’ve been doing it a lot lately.”
“Maybe you should see a doctor about that.”
“It’s on the agenda when I get home.”
“When are you going?”
“I had planned on today, but I don’t think my stomach could handle the ferry ride.”
He leaned in to arrange her hair on the pillow. “Could it handle a cup of tea?”
“Do we have tea?”
“I bet we do. My grandmother left behind anything she thought someone might be able to use someday. I remember making Depression jokes for which I was soundly chastised.”
Her lips quirked with amusement. “Tea actually sounds good.”
Telling himself it was for her and not because he needed to touch her, Owen placed a quick kiss on her forehead and got up. “Let me see what we’ve got.” As he went into the small kitchenette, he wondered why things were so easy and familiar with her when he normally went out of his way to keep it loose and casual with women. It was probably better not to delve too deeply on that particular subject, he decided. He dug through what was left of his grandmother’s pantry and found a box of tea way in the back.
“We’re in luck,” he called to Laura. “We’ve got tea, but it’s nothing special. No flavor or anything.”
“I’d prefer it flavor-free.”
“Stand by.” Owen washed a small pan and put the water on to boil. By the time he’d steeped the tea and brought it to her, she’d fallen asleep. She looked so pretty and peaceful, and he was grateful that she had gotten a reprieve from all her troubles. They’d be waiting for her when she woke up.
Sad for the predicament she found herself in and wishing he could do more to help her than boil some water, Owen put the tea on her bedside table and left her to sleep.
Chapter 20
After downing his usual daily allotment of three sugar donuts, Ned left the marina and drove into town. As he approached Gold’s Pharmacy, he took a sharp left into the parking lot and got out of his cab before he could ponder the wisdom of this mission. On the way into the store, he nodded to a number of acquaintances.
When he zeroed in on Francine working the register, he ducked behind one of the shelves so she wouldn’t see him. Like a teenager in the throes of first love, he spied on her through an opening between the shelves for a good long time, watching her ring up purchases while she forced a friendly tone with the customers.
Ned knew that didn’t come naturally to her.
Francine was between customers when she nearly made eye contact with him.
He pulled back and realized he was standing next to the condom display. The idea came to him fully formed and crystal clear—and imagining her reaction made him giggle. For the first time in more years than he could count, he studied the various options, which had vastly expanded since the last time he’d been in the market for protection.
He settled on the brand that proclaimed to be dedicated to “her pleasure,” and made sure to choose the extra-large ones, which set off a new round of laughter. After taking a moment to get himself together, he picked up a bottle of massage oil and some candles before heading for the register.
When Francine saw him coming, she dropped the change she was handing to her customer, sending coins scattering all over the place. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her hands shaking as she gathered up the money.
An awkward minute later, the customer ahead of him left, and Ned dumped his items on the conveyer belt.
She glanced down, gasped and then looked back at him, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. “What’re you about?” she whispered.
“Just making some plans,” he said as casual as could be.
“What kind of plans?”
“Do ya grill all yer customers like this?”
She scowled at him. “What kind of plans?” she asked through gritted teeth.
He leaned in close enough to invade her personal space. “The kinda plans ya make when yer hoping yer girlfriend’s gonna come to her senses.”
Francine took a quick look around to see if anyone was watching them. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I told you I need some time.”
“I ain’t asking ya fer nothin. Ya happen ta work at the only pharmacy on the island. I can’t stay outta here forever.”
“You don’t need that stuff,” she said with the sweep of her hand.
“Better not let Mrs. Gold hear ya say that. Ya’ll get yerself fired. Now, are ya gonna ring me up or not?”
She snatched up the condoms, and her face turned bright red when she saw the brand. The massage oil was next, and the candles landed in the bag with a thud. “Thirty-two sixty-three.”
Ned made a big production of reaching for his wallet and counting out the bills, which she snatched from his hand.
She returned his change with the same finesse.
“Thanks, doll,” he said with a wink. “Have a great day now.” Yep, he’d gone and made her good and mad, but he’d also given her plenty to think about. He could feel her eyes boring holes in his back, so he put a little wiggle in his ass.
On his way out the door, he grabbed a free copy of a special edition of the Gansett Gazette, which was full of coverage about the tropical storm, and then hightailed it to the ferry landing to get his cab well positioned for the arrival of the next boat. He was propped against his cab reading all about Tropical Storm Hailey when the toot of a horn cau
ght his attention.
Sydney Donovan, driving Luke Harris’s truck, pulled up next to Ned’s cab. “Would you mind taking custody of himself for a minute while I go get the truck on the boat?” she asked, gesturing to Luke.
The stormy expression on Luke’s face took Ned by surprise.
Luke got out of the truck, retrieved his crutches and hobbled over to where Ned was standing.
“Be right back, hon,” Sydney said cheerfully as she drove off.
“Take your time,” Luke muttered under his breath.
“What’s yer beef?” Ned asked his young friend.
“She’s driving me crazy, hovering over me like I’m some sort of invalid.”
“Well, I hate to break it to ya, sport, but ya kinda are somewhat of an invalid at the moment.”
Luke’s scowl was so dark and fierce and unlike him that Ned would’ve laughed if he hadn’t also sensed the despair lurking just beneath the surface of his friend’s misery.
“Are ya going to get the MRI?”
Luke nodded.
“Good. Then ya can figure out what’s wrong, get it fixed and get back to being nice to yer lady and the rest of us.”
“I’m nice to her,” Luke said with sullenness that was also not like him.
“I sure hope yer bein’ nice to her. Ya pined after her fer enough years. I’d think ya’d be whistling Dixie every day, goin outta yer way to make her happy rather than frowning at her.”
“I’m not frowning at her.”
“Whatever ya say.”
“It’s just…this totally sucks.”
“Yep, it does. But it ain’t her fault. Ya did a great thing that day at the marina. Ya saved Big Mac’s life. Maybe Mac’s, too.” Ned shuddered just thinking about how close they’d come to losing both of them at the hands of a drunken boater. Luke’s leap onto the boat from the main pier had finally caught the bastard’s attention. Without that… Ned didn’t want to think about what might’ve happened.
“It was worth it,” Luke said. “I’d do it again if I had to.”
“Stay focused on that. This too shall pass. I promise.”
Luke nodded in agreement, and Ned watched him make an effort to smile at Sydney when she returned carrying an overnight bag.
“Ready to go?” she asked Luke, seeming surprised by the smile. It’d probably been a while since she’d seen one from him.
He nodded. “See you tomorrow, Ned.”
“Good luck to ya.”
“Thanks.”
Ned watched them head off to catch the next ferry, hoping they’d get the answers they needed so badly. He returned his attention to the paper and was fully engrossed in the retelling of baby Hailey McCarthy’s dramatic entrance when the clearing of a throat caught his attention.
“’Scuse me. I’m wondering if you can tell me where I might find Francine Chester?”
Startled by the question coming from a distantly familiar voice, Ned looked up and could barely hide his shock. He was older, he had lines in his face that hadn’t been there before, his hair had gone from blond to gray, but it was those dazzling blue eyes that gave him away. Bobby Chester.
Ned felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Was this the business she needed to take care of? A reunion with her ex?
“Do you know her?” Bobby asked, clearly not recognizing Ned. Then again, it wasn’t like Ned had ever registered as any kind of serious threat on Bobby’s radar. Quite the other way around.
“No,” Ned said over the panic that gripped him. “Never heard of her.”
“All righty, then. Thanks, anyhow.”
Whistling as he walked, Bobby strolled up to Main Street like he owned the place, like he hadn’t once hopped a ferry out of town with nary a look back at the wife and daughters he’d left behind.
Thinking of Francine and Maddie and Tiffany, Ned snapped out of his stupor, jumped into his cab and peeled out of the parking lot. He walked into Gold’s ten minutes later and stormed right up to Francine’s register.
“What’re you doing?” she whispered sharply as she looked around for Mrs. Gold’s prying eyes. “You’ll get me fired!”
“What the hell is Bobby Chester doing here?”
All the color left Francine’s face, and then the starch left her spine as she crumpled into a heap on the floor.
The marina was dead after the boats that’d been trapped there during the storm departed. Since it was midweek, they probably wouldn’t get too many new boats in until the long weekend, so the day was somewhat relaxed. During lunch, Grant mentioned that he’d like to read up on Charlie’s case.
Stephanie put down her spoon and got up. Without a word, she disappeared down the hallway that led to her room.
Puzzled, Grant picked up his bowl and polished off the last of his New England clam chowder and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
Stephanie reappeared, holding her laptop. Approaching the table they shared, she handed it to him. “Read away. It’s all on here.”
Recognizing this for the huge gesture that it was, Grant took the computer from her. “Are you sure?”
She bit her lip and nodded. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve spent every dime I have, and I’m no closer to getting Charlie out today than I was fourteen years ago.” She shrugged. “I need help.”
Grant put the computer on the table and got up to hug her. “It’s no sign of weakness to let someone help you, Steph.”
“I know. It’s just that I’m not used to having anyone around who wants to help.”
He kissed her forehead and then her lips. “Now you do.”
“Means a lot to me. More than you know.” She linked and unlinked her fingers in an unusual show of nerves. “Even if this…whatever this is between us…doesn’t work out, I hope you know how much I appreciate—”
Grant kissed the words off her lips. “I’m not doing this for your appreciation. And I’m not doing it because we’re sleeping together.”
“Quiet,” she whispered, her cheeks blazing even though they had the vast building to themselves at the moment.
“No one can hear me,” he assured her, amused by her embarrassment. “I’m doing this,” he said, punctuating his words with kisses, “because I care about you, and I hate that you’ve been living this nightmare by yourself all these years.”
She appeared to be processing his words as she looked up at him.
He kissed her once more. “And I don’t want to talk about whatever this is between us not working out. Why don’t we pretend like it’s going to work out and see what happens, huh?”
“Really, I don’t expect…”
She didn’t expect anything, he realized, which only made him want to give her everything. Wow.
Seeming to read his mind, she said, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Grant.” Her quiet dignity went straight to his heart. “You’ve got a great big life with all kinds of options open to you. It wouldn’t be wise to limit yourself.”
“That may be true, but the only option I seem interested in is standing right in front of me.”
She released a deep sigh that told him he had a long way to go in convincing her that his intentions toward her were honorable and suddenly long-term. Of course, the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him he was due back in LA in a week’s time put a damper on that thought.
“I’ve got to get back to work.” She gestured toward the takeout counter and then pointed to the computer. “And so do you.”
“Do you mind if I make a file on your computer to take notes?”
“Have at it.”
Grant’s blood zinged through his veins as the challenge of a new story awaited him.
“Are you getting a buzz?” she asked, smiling up at him.
Amazed by her insight, he said, “How’d you know?”
“Your eyes just got all bright and excited, the way they do when…” She gestured for him to fill in the blanks.
Grant barked out a laugh and drew her in close to him. �
��The way they do before I come?” he whispered in her ear, pushing his hips against hers.
“Yeah,” she said breathlessly. “Just like.”
“Shit,” he growled. “You’ve got me all hot again.”
“Doesn’t take much.” She slapped him on the ass and pulled away from him. “Get to work, stud. I’ll take care of your other problem later.” With a saucy wink, she sauntered off, leaving his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth.
Slumping into his chair, he willed his sudden, raging erection into submission. Damn, she was hot, and damn she turned him on so fast and furious he barely stood a chance when she was anywhere near him.
What might she be like, he wondered, without the weight of the world on her slim shoulders? Determined to find out, he fired up her computer and dug in.
Stephanie wondered if Grant knew that his lips moved when he read or that he talked to himself when he was writing, two rather endearing qualities. Oh, who was she kidding? All his qualities were endearing.
She had to tear her gaze off him and get back to work on the food inventory she needed to complete so she could get the order in for the next week. As she added, subtracted and multiplied on her calculator, her thoughts were full of him. For so long she’d wondered what it might be like to be in love. Now she knew the emotions were all-consuming.
She wanted to spend every minute of every day with him and every night wrapped in his arms. She wanted to hear his every thought, share his every dream and do everything within her power to make him as happy as he’d made her.
And more than anything, she wanted to believe that he felt the same way about her. Wouldn’t that be nice? When she realized she was once again staring at him, she let out a deep sigh and tried to focus on the spreadsheet that needed her undivided attention for at least thirty more minutes. Then she could ogle to her heart’s content.
Ten minutes later, she’d lost the battle and was staring at him.
“Quite a sight, isn’t he?” Linda McCarthy asked with a knowing smile on her face. “He reminds me so much of his father at that age. I remember standing right about where you are,” Linda said, gesturing to the takeout counter where Stephanie had laid out her paperwork so she could surreptitiously watch Grant.
