by Marie Force
“Do you miss me, Grace?”
“God, yes, I miss you so much it’s not even funny.”
“And have you thought about what you want?”
“I’ve hardly thought about anything but you since the second I left you.”
Evan’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “That’s what I needed to hear.”
“Have you thought about me?”
“A little. Here and there. Nothing much.” When she laughed, he said, “I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking when I see you, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I can’t wait to see you, babe.”
“I can’t wait, either.”
On the day of Grace’s return, Evan was up early to shower and shave. Studying his face in the mirror, he was glad that the last of the abrasions had finally healed. At least he no longer looked like a creature from the black lagoon, as Grant had said at least a dozen times since it happened.
He walked into town two hours before Grace’s ferry was due in and killed the time drinking coffee at the South Harbor Diner. Evan spent so much time studying the horizon, willing the boat to appear, that his eyes began to play tricks on him. So when the ferry actually appeared, he wasn’t sure if it was real or an illusion.
“You need to get it together, freak show,” he muttered as he crossed the street.
“Talking to yerself now, boy?” Ned asked from his usual post in the line of cabs awaiting the next boat. The guy owned half the island and drove a cab for fun. Go figure.
Embarrassed to have been caught talking to himself like a lunatic, Evan was suddenly mad at Grace. This, as well as the torture of the last two weeks, was entirely her fault. Before he met her, he didn’t lie awake all night thinking about a woman or talk to himself in public places.
“Ahhh, boy,” Ned said with a delighted chuckle. “Ya’ve got yerself a bad case, now doncha?”
Since Evan could no more deny that than he could his own name, he didn’t try.
“I heard she’s coming back today and puttin’ us all outta our misery.”
“What misery have you been in?” Evan asked indignantly.
“Watchin’ ya suffer ain’t no picnic for any of us that love ya.”
“Aww, jeez. Don’t be nice to me. I can’t take that right now.”
Ned reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “Follow yer heart, boy. It’ll lead ya home. If ya love this girl, tell her so. Don’t let her wonder.”
Fortified by Ned’s pep talk, Evan nodded.
“Good luck to ya.”
“Thanks.” He walked down the hill to the ferry landing and watched the boat clear the breakwater to South Harbor. Had it ever taken longer for a ferry to make a one-eighty and back into its berth? Evan looked up at the rear controls and wasn’t surprised to see Seamus O’Grady at the helm. Figures. Had Grace spent the passage chatting with her good pal?
A burst of jealous rage made Evan feel like an even bigger fool than he already was.
When the ferry was finally secured, cars and trucks came off first, including a rental truck that Evan realized was probably Grace’s.
As he watched it go by and strained to see inside, someone tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around, and there she was, wearing a big smile and looking thrilled to see him.
She threw herself into his arms.
For a second, he was almost too stunned to react, but then he scooped her up and swung her around.
“It’s about damned time you came back to me,” Evan said. “I was this close to losing my mind.”
“How close?” she asked playfully, sounding as if she was enjoying his torment.
“If you laugh right now, I swear to God…”
Of course, she laughed, and he did the only thing he could to make it stop—he put her down and kissed her until he was sure she’d forgotten all about what she found so funny.
“Missed you,” she whispered. “So much.”
“I missed you more.” He stared at her, drinking in every detail.
“Did you think long and hard while I was gone?”
“So long and so hard,” he said, his tone rife with double meaning.
She smacked his arm. “I’m being serious.”
“So am I.” He took her hand and led her away from the maelstrom of people and cars and bikes. Behind the ticket office, he pressed her against the wall and kissed her senseless again.
With her arms linked around his neck, she said, “What did you decide?”
“I decided I’m no good without you. I decided I’ll do anything I can to keep you in my life.” As he’d practiced this declaration over and over during the last few interminable days, he’d expected this last bit to be the hard part. But with her in his arms, looking up at him with her heart in her eyes, he found it wasn’t hard at all. “And I decided I love you.”
“That works out perfectly,” she said with the cheeky grin he so adored. “Because I love you, too.”
The relief at hearing that and being with her again was so overwhelming, so consuming, it was all Evan could do to remain standing. Holding on to her was the only thing that kept him upright. “Come on,” he said after he held her for a long while. “We need to get you moved in, and then we’ve got a lot of plans—and a lot of love—to make.”
She took his hand and smiled up at him. “Let’s get to it.”
Epilogue
“You are absolutely not having dinner with him,” Evan said as he secured a corner of the fitted sheet on his side of the bed. The move-in crew he’d organized and fed with pizza from Mario’s were long gone along with her brother Craig, who’d taken the truck back to the mainland on the five o’clock boat. She was exhausted from the hard work but exhilarated by the way her things had fit into the apartment as well as the warm welcome from her new friends—not to mention being back with Evan. That was rather exhilarating, too.
“Why not?” Grace was getting a kick out of tormenting him as she tucked the top sheet in on her side. “We’re just friends. I’m allowed to have friends, aren’t I?”
“That bloody Irishman isn’t interested in being friends with you. He wants to get his hands on you, and it’s not happening.”
Knowing this was her moving day, Seamus had come by to help and had flirted shamelessly with her, which had driven Evan crazy. With a house full of people—including his parents, brothers, Stephanie, Owen, Laura, Maddie and the kids—helping her move in, she and Evan had been forced to keep their hands to themselves for hours.
The tension had slowly built to a boiling point, aided by Seamus’s blatant blarney.
“I don’t think I like your attitude,” Grace said indignantly, fully aware that she was throwing gas on a fire.
“Too bad. You need to let him know you’re taken. Off the market. Whatever you have to say so he gets the message.”
Grace put lavender cases on the feather pillows she’d bought for her new place. “And what message is that?”
It was a good thing she was looking right at him, or she might’ve missed the moment he finally snapped. He stalked around the bed, took the pillow from her and tossed it aside. Pulling her roughly against him, he captured her mouth in a savage kiss that would probably leave her lips bruised and swollen tomorrow. Not that she cared in the least, because she’d been longing for him for weeks now. She fisted her hand in his hair and gave as good as she got.
“The message,” he said when he came up for air many minutes later, “is you’re mine. Mine, mine, mine. I don’t want him anywhere near you.”
“You’re being somewhat ridiculous. You know that, don’t you?
“I don’t care. Tell me you won’t go out with him.”
“I won’t go out on a date with him. I will have dinner with him—as a friend.”
“Grace…” He dropped his head to her shoulder. “You can’t encourage him! He isn’t capable of telling the difference!”
“I’ll tell him I’m involved with someone.”
Evan lifted his head to meet her gaze.
“Really? Will you tell him who?”
As if the whole island didn’t already know! Nodding, she pushed her lips together to suppress the laughter that she knew he wouldn’t appreciate just then.
“Are you trying not to laugh at me?”
Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head.
“You’re really quite awful.”
“I tried to warn you about that the night we met.”
“It’s a wonder I love you this much when you’re so mean to me.”
She went up on tiptoes to kiss him. “Say it again.”
“Say what?”
“You know what.”
“I love you?”
Nodding, she rested her forehead against his chest. “Does it feel weird to say that?”
“Not to you.” He reached for the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. “I’ve been dreaming about touching you, holding you, loving you.”
“I have, too.” She unbuttoned his shorts and pushed them and his boxers down over his hips, freeing his erection. As she touched and stroked him, Grace was filled with relief to be back with him again. “I have a surprise for you.”
“What’s that?” he asked as he released her breasts from the sheer bra she’d worn with him in mind.
“I saw my doctor about birth control right after I got home.”
Raising his head, he stared into her eyes. “And?”
“It’s already effective, so no more condoms. If you’re okay with that.”
“If I’m okay with that?” His eyes nearly bugged out of his head, and his voice was oddly high-pitched and strained. “What do you think?”
Grace smiled up at him and helped him out of his T-shirt as he pushed and pulled at her shorts and panties.
“Just for the record,” he said, “I’m totally safe. I had a physical a couple of months ago.”
“Good to know.”
They slid into her new bed together, arms and legs intertwined.
“You feel so good,” he whispered as he sent his hand down her back to squeeze her bottom.
She ran her fingers over soft chest hair and hard belly. His cock surged against her hip, making its presence known.
“I want to touch you and kiss you everywhere,” he said gruffly, “but right now, I just… I need…”
Since she needed the same thing, she shifted onto her back and reached out to him. He came into her embrace and took her mouth in a series of deep, searching kisses as he pressed his cock against her, letting her know what he needed.
Grace cradled his hips between her legs, needing him just as fiercely. “Evan… Now. Hurry.”
He grasped his cock, positioned himself and slid into her, his breath catching. “Oh my God,” he whispered. “That’s unbelievable. Grace, God.”
She tried to breathe past the lump that settled in her throat at the sheer relief of being back in his arms. “Have you done it without a condom before?”
“No,” he gasped. “Never. It’s amazing.” He moved slowly, as if trying to prolong the exquisite torture. Suddenly, he pulled out of her.
“What is it?”
“We never got to do it this way.” He flopped onto his back, reached for her and arranged her on top of him.
Grace sucked in a sharp, deep breath as she took him in.
“Roll your hips,” he said, nearly levitating off the bed when she did it. “Grace…” His jaw pulsed with tension, and his fingers tightened on her hips as she settled into a rhythm that he disrupted when his fingers delved into the place where they were joined to coax her.
With the tension growing to nearly unendurable levels, she looked down to find him gazing up at her with so much love and affection that her heart filled to overflowing.
“I love you,” she said, leaning down to kiss him.
“I love you, too.” He took her hands and held on tight as he surged into her, crying out just as she reached her own peak.
As she came down from the unimaginable high, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to her forehead. Under her ear, his heart pounded out a steady beat.
“Everything is different now that I know you love me,” he said.
“For me, too.”
“I’ve never felt anything like this, Grace.”
“I never imagined there was anything like this. Not for me anyway.”
“It’s all your fault, you know.”
“I know, I know,” she said, endlessly amused by him.
“So you won’t go out with Seamus, right?”
Laughing, Grace smacked his arm. “How can I go out with anyone else when I’m madly in love with you?”
“Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?” His indignant huff nearly set her off into a fit of laughter from which she might never recover.
She had a feeling that was going to be a regular problem where he was concerned. “Because it’s so much fun to torture you.”
Growling, he rolled them over so he was on top and looked down at her. “I never wanted any of this, and now I can’t imagine a future that doesn’t include you. How did you do that to me?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she said with a smug grin.
“It might take fifty or sixty years to figure it out.”
She hugged him tightly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Turn the page to read Season for Love, Owen and Laura’s story!
Chapter 1
Owen Lawry stood on the porch of the Sand & Surf Hotel to watch the last ferry of the day leave South Harbor for the mainland. He and his van were supposed to have been on that boat. With his obligations on Gansett Island over for the season, he’d planned to be heading for a two-month gig in Boston, the same autumn engagement he’d had the last five years. It paid well, and, after all this time, the club owners were friends.
His gaze was riveted to the ferry as it steamed past the breakwater into open ocean, where it dipped and rolled in the October surf. As the sun set on Columbus Day, officially ending another summer season on Gansett, Owen wondered what the hell he was still doing here when he was supposed to be on that boat, leaving for good-paying work on the mainland.
“You know why you’re still here,” he muttered, thinking of the blonde beauty who had him wound up in knots. He was at the point where he wondered if a man could actually die from pent-up desire.
It might’ve been better for both of them if he’d left as scheduled, if he’d taken the gig in Boston and gone about his carefree existence with the same lack of responsibility that had marked his entire adult life.
What was he doing here pining after a woman who was still married to someone else and carrying her estranged husband’s child? What was he doing spending every waking moment with a woman who’d made it clear she was unavailable for all the things he suddenly wanted for the first time in his thirty-three years? He was driving himself slowly mad. That was the only thing he knew for certain.
Before he met Laura McCarthy, he was perfectly satisfied with his life. He spent summers playing his guitar and singing on the island—the closest thing to a real home he’d ever had—worked autumns in Boston and winters in Stowe, Vermont, playing to the ski crowd. In the spring, he headed for a few months off in the Bahamas. It was a good life, a satisfying life. Watching the last ferry of the day fade into the twilight, Owen had the uneasy sensation that he was also watching that satisfying life slip through his fingers.
He usually felt sorry for guys who allowed themselves to be led around by a woman. His best friends, Mac, Grant and Evan McCarthy, Joe Cantrell and Luke Harris, had fallen like dominoes lately, one after the other finding the women they were meant to be with. Only Adam McCarthy remained untethered and seemed happy that way.
Owen, on the other hand, was stuck in purgatory, caught between the single life he’d embraced with passionate dedication and the committed life he never imagined for himself. He wasn’t with Laura, per se. He just spent all his free time with her. Weeks ago, they’
d shared a couple of chaste kisses that had been hotter than full-on sex with other women.
Since then, there’d been nothing but an occasional hand to his arm or a brief hug here or there. He’d continued to collect her off the bathroom floor each day until the relentless morning sickness suddenly let up as she entered her fifth month of pregnancy.
As he leaned against the railing he’d recently replaced on the hotel’s front porch, Owen realized he actually missed that time with her in the mornings when she’d been so sick and he’d been there to prop her up. “You’re such a fool,” he said to the gathering darkness.
The autumn days were shorter, the nights longer and the chilly air a harbinger of things to come. Shivering in the breeze, Owen questioned his decision to stay with Laura this winter for the millionth time. Did she even want him here? Did she want company, or did she want him? If she wanted him, she was doing a hell of a job hiding it. For a while there, he’d thought they were at the start of something that could’ve been significant for both of them. Now he wasn’t so sure.
She treated him like a platonic buddy when all he did was fantasize about getting her naked and into his bed. Was he sick to be having such fantasies about a woman who was pregnant with another man’s child? Probably. But as she rounded and swelled and glowed, he only wanted her more. At times, he even let himself pretend they were married and the baby was his.
“You’re one sick son of a bitch,” he said to the breeze. Sick or not, he wanted her with a fierceness that was becoming harder and harder to hide from her. One of these days, he was going to grab her and pin her against a wall and show her exactly—
“Owen?”
He sucked in a sharp, deep breath, ashamed to have been caught having such uncivilized thoughts about a woman he truly cared for. Making an attempt to calm himself, he turned to her. “Yeah?”
“Aren’t you cold out there?”
Actually, he was on fire thinking about her, not that he could confess such a thing to her. “Not really. It’s nice.”
Laura tugged the zip-up sweatshirt of his that she’d “borrowed” around herself and joined him on the porch. Even though the oversized jacket swallowed her up, she was still his regal princess. She snuggled into his side, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to slip his arm around her.
