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

by Marie Force

  “Um, excuse me,” a small voice said.

  Tiffany’s head snapped up. A customer! A real, live customer! Blaine didn’t count. His visit had been a mission of mercy.

  “I’m sorry!” Tiffany rounded the counter to greet the frumpy older woman. “Welcome!”

  As the woman took a long look around the store, her rosy cheeks grew rosier. “I think I’m in the wrong place. Someone said this was a gift shop.”

  “Oh, you’re in the right place. We sell all sorts of gifts. What do you have in mind?”

  The woman zeroed in on a rack of racy nightgowns and took a step back. “I don’t think—”

  “Wait.” Tiffany tried to keep the desperation out of her voice. “If you tell me something about the person the gift is for, perhaps I have just the thing.”

  “Well, um…”

  “You know,” Tiffany said with a warm smile, “I forgot to introduce myself. Where’re my manners? I’m Tiffany Sturgil.”

  The older woman hesitated before she took Tiffany’s outstretched hand. “Verna Upton.”

  Tiffany’s mouth fell open. “As in Mrs. Mayor Upton?”

  “The one and only.”

  “Oh, well, why didn’t you say so? How lucky am I to have the first lady of Gansett Island in my humble shop?”

  Tiffany realized this was the single most important customer she’d ever have. Winning her over would go a long way toward bringing others in.

  Verna released a nervous titter of laughter. “You don’t have to refer to me as the first lady. Just Verna will be fine.”

  “All right, Just Verna it is. What can you tell me about this friend of yours?”

  “She thinks her husband is having an affair,” Verna blurted out in a rush of words, as if she was afraid she’d lose her nerve if she didn’t say it fast.

  “What makes her think that?”

  “She said the spark has gone out of their marriage, and now she’s concerned he’s found someone else.”

  Her heart thumping with nervous excitement, Tiffany recalled one of the sayings from her favorite self-help book: nothing ventured, nothing gained. She reached for the other woman’s hand and took the plunge. “May I ask you something that’s absolutely none of my business, Just Verna?”

  Verna smiled at the nickname. “Of course.”

  “Are we talking about your friend, or are we talking about you?”

  Verna’s face flushed to scarlet. “Me,” she said softly.

  “Honey,” Tiffany said, slipping an arm around her, “you’ve come to exactly the right place.”

  Elated by the successful, productive second day at the shop and tingling with anticipation about the night ahead, Tiffany grabbed the bag Blaine had left with her and was locking the front door when Jim appeared out of the shadows.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a low growl.

  Startled, Tiffany dropped the shopping bag, and objects scattered at their feet. Burning with mortification, she squat to quickly refill the bag, but she wasn’t quick enough.

  He held up the vibrator. “Is this the kind of trash you’re selling in your little porn shop?”

  Tiffany snatched it out of his hand and put it in the bag. “It’s not a porn shop, and don’t you dare come to my place of business and then report that I violated the restraining order you insisted on. Where’s my daughter?”

  “With my parents. They and everyone else in this town are talking about what a fool you’re making of yourself parading around half naked in broad daylight. You’re acting like a common tramp, and I won’t have it.”

  As she listened to the vitriol spewing from the face she’d once found so handsome and arresting, Tiffany realized she didn’t love him anymore. The discovery made her giddy. He no longer had any power over her. If he hadn’t been standing right there, she might’ve danced a little jig of joy.

  She held the shopping bag close to her. While she didn’t love him anymore, she certainly didn’t want him seeing the other items in Blaine’s bag of tricks. “What won’t you have?”

  “You. This.” He gestured angrily toward the store. “I won’t have my wife prancing around half naked in the town where I’m trying to build my practice. You’re doing this to embarrass me.”

  “Have you forgotten that you divorced me after I worked like a dog to put you through law school? So that, and the papers I finally received yesterday, make me your ex-wife, and give you no right to tell me what to do. And P.S., you ought to stop in sometime. I might be able to help with your little problem.” She glanced down at his crotch. “In the bedroom.”

  His eyes narrowed, a sign he was about to blow. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I never had any idea what I was missing. But now that I’ve got something to compare you to, I gotta say, your technique could use some fine-tuning.” She patted his face. “Don’t worry, though. It’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

  Batting her hand away, he leaned in close to her. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you’re bounced out of here, so don’t get too comfortable.”

  “Give it your best shot,” Tiffany said with more bravado than she felt.

  “Oh, I plan to, and until then, see if you can keep your clothes on in public.”

  She forced a careless smile even though her heart pounded. “Now what fun would that be?”

  “You won’t be so flippant when I shut down your smut shop.”

  “As interesting as this conversation has been, Jim, I have somewhere far more exciting to be. So if you’d please get out of my way, I’d like to get to my car.”

  Rather than move, though, Jim dug in.

  For the first time since she’d met him in high school, Tiffany was a tiny bit afraid that he might be angry enough to strike her. “I asked you to get out of my way.”

  He leveled a furious stare at her before he finally stepped aside. “This isn’t over, Tiffany.”

  “Yes, it is. You saw to that. Now go away and leave me alone.” She brushed past him and fumbled with her keys but finally managed to get into her car. Her hands shook and her stomach ached, but not because of the ugly exchange with her ex-husband. No, it was the threat to her fledgling business that had rocked her. Jim cared more about what others thought of him than he did about anything else. She didn’t doubt he had the wherewithal to put her out of business before she even got started.

  She had expected some people in the town to disapprove, but she hadn’t expected anyone, least of all her ex-husband, to try to shut her down, especially after the town had approved her business application. Despite her bravado in the face of his threats, he had scared her. Right when all her energy was needed to get her business up and running, now she’d have to face off again with him, too. The idea of it exhausted her. Jim was a lawyer with significant resources at his disposal. What chance did she have against such a formidable foe? Especially one who had a law degree in his arsenal that she’d paid for?

  By the time she got home, the earlier excitement and anticipation for her night with Blaine had turned to nervous despair. She poured a glass of wine and dropped into the single chair in her spacious living room. Sitting in the dark, she tried to figure out when, exactly, the man she’d once loved with all her heart had come to hate her enough to want to see her and her business ruined. It had happened, she supposed, right around the time he’d finished school and they’d returned to the island. He hadn’t needed her anymore and had shoved her aside to focus on his career.

  Giving in to exhaustion, Tiffany closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the chair.

  That’s where Blaine found her when he arrived after his shift. He was so intent on getting upstairs that he almost missed her sitting in the lonely living room chair. Stopping short, he studied her for a long, indecisive moment. Something must’ve happened. Otherwise, she’d be exactly where he’d told her to be. Earlier, she’d seemed excited by his directions. Had she suffered a change of heart in the
ensuing hours? Or had something else happened?

  It occurred to him that he had two choices: wake her up to find out what was wrong or quietly leave with her none the wiser that he’d ever been there. The Blaine who had vowed to avoid projects like the plague should take option B and get the hell out of there. The Blaine who’d been moved by this woman, both in bed and out, squatted, rested his arms on her legs and leaned in to kiss her awake.

  She came to with a gasp, her eyes widening at the sight of him.

  “Hey,” he said softly.

  “Oh. Hi.” She rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”

  “Eleven thirty.”

  She moaned. “I can’t believe I fell asleep when I knew you were coming, and I was supposed to…”

  Blaine smiled at the way she lowered her eyes in embarrassment when she recalled his directions. Could she be any cuter? “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, why?”

  “I figured something must be wrong if you’re down here rather than in bed waiting for me.”

  “It’s nothing.” She started to get up. “Just give me a couple of minutes.”

  He told himself to let her go. He was here to have sex with her, not start a relationship. What did it matter to him if she was upset about something? Except it did matter. He could tell himself a thousand times not to get involved, not to make her problems his problems. While he’d like to think he’d learned from his mistakes, none of his past disasters had changed who he was deep inside. So rather than let her go, he slid his arms under her, picked her up and turned to sit in the chair with her on his lap.

  Right away, the scent of strawberries filled his senses and fired his desires. But he forced his thoughts away from the need that strummed through him whenever she was close to him and focused on finding out what had upset her.

  She looked at him with eyes gone wide with surprise at the unexpected move. She’d probably expected him to carry her off to bed. “You don’t have to—”

  “What happened?”

  “It’s nothing. Really.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  She sighed and relaxed into his embrace. “Jim.”

  Every muscle in Blaine’s body tensed at the mention of her ex-husband. “What about him?”

  “He came by the store.”

  “And?”

  Was she upset about seeing Jim again? Feeling guilty about what they’d done the night before? Did she want to reconcile with that lowlife? Was that what she was going to say? A stab of disappointment caught him off guard. Sure, he didn’t want to get mired in another messy relationship, but he didn’t want to see her back with a scumbag who didn’t deserve her, either.

  “He’s going to do everything in his power to shut down my ‘smut’ shop.”

  Relieved that her dismay had nothing to do with reconciling with Jim, Blaine didn’t think this was the best time to tell her the mayor planned to add her and her shop to the town council’s upcoming agenda. There’d be time for that later. “There’s nothing he can do, Tiffany. You’re there legally and have the same right to make a living in this town as he does.”

  “He’s resourceful. If there’s a way to put me out of business, he’ll find it.”

  “He’s probably annoyed that you’re getting on with your life without him and not sitting home feeling sorry for yourself. I’m sure that’s what he’s most upset about.” Blaine had grown up with Jim Sturgil, and in Jim’s world, everything was about Jim.

  “He’s mostly mad about my advertising strategies.”

  “I’m not wild about them myself.”

  “Because of the accident, I know. But that wasn’t my fault.”

  “Not just because of that.”

  She glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

  His fingers, which had been flirting with the hem of her top, slipped beneath to caress her back. “I hate the idea of anyone else seeing what I get to see.”

  Her lips pursed into an O that he found adorable. “It’s the best way to show people what’s for sale in the store.”

  “I don’t like it,” he said, his lips teasing the sensitive spot below her ear.

  “You don’t?”

  Was she intentionally squirming on his lap? He wouldn’t put it past her.

  “Not one bit. In fact, the next time I see you out there ‘advertising,’ I’ll have no choice but to punish you.”

  His hand moved from her back to her backside, a not-so-subtle warning of what her punishment might include.

  A shiver rippled through Tiffany’s body. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh no?” He spanked her lightly but firmly, drawing a gasp from her. “Want to try me?”

  This time when she pressed against his erection, he had no doubt she’d done it on purpose.

  “I know you’re used to people doing what you tell them to because you carry a gun and wear a badge, but no one tells me what to do. Not anymore.”

  While he was proud of her for standing up for herself—something he was certain she hadn’t done very often during her marriage—he still didn’t want her showing off her curves in public. “You’ve been warned.”

  “So have you,” she retorted.

  Blaine smiled at her sauciness and then captured her fresh mouth in a searing kiss designed to show her who was boss. But of course she turned the tables on him by giving as good as she got. By the time he drew back from her, he had to call this round a draw.

  “Go upstairs,” he said in a firm tone that left no room for argument. “Put on the outfit I bought for you and lie on your bed. Set the ceiling fan to high.”

  She swallowed hard. “Anything else?”

  “You know how I want your legs.”

  With a dainty move of her tongue, she wet her lips. “Apart?”

  Blaine ran his hand up the inside of her leg and pressed his fingers to her heated core, drawing a moan from her. He loved that she was so responsive to his touch. “As far apart as they’ll go.” Patting her bottom, he urged her up and off his lap. “Hurry.”

  She grabbed the bag from the shop and sauntered up the stairs, appearing to take her own sweet time. With desire beating through him and heating his blood, Blaine forced himself out of the chair and crossed the room to the small bar set up in the corner. He poured a shot of whiskey, downed it in one swallow and felt it burn its way through him.

  For the first time in a long time, he found himself thinking of Eden and the nightmare he’d endured at her hands. He’d discovered far too late that she used people to get what she wanted and then discarded them when she’d sucked them dry in every possible way. He hadn’t known Tiffany long, but he already knew she was made of much better stuff than that. She didn’t have a user bone in her body. He’d discovered that despite the tough outer shell she showed the world, inside she was made of softer, more compassionate stuff, the kind of stuff a man could fall in love with rather easily if he wasn’t careful.

  Blaine poured a second shot and took it with him when he returned to the chair. He consumed this one more slowly, reminding himself all the while that he’d embarked on a sexual affair with an attractive woman. That didn’t mean he had to solve all her problems or turn into an emotional wreck over her. This was about one thing and one thing only: sex. He glanced at the stairs. Knowing she was up there, spread out and ready for him to feast on, made his dick throb painfully.

  As he downed the last of his drink and stood up to go to her, he thought of her earlier distress and chose to ignore the equally painful throb in his chest. Nothing good had ever come of that.

  Wearing the black sheer bustier that barely covered the tips of her nipples, Tiffany lay on the bed with her legs spread wide. Her thighs trembled from anticipation and the effect the swirling air from above was having on her exposed flesh. On the verge of her first-ever ceiling-fan-induced orgasm, Tiffany squirmed against the tug of the thong, trying to exert more pressure where she needed it most without involving her hands. She wondered how much longer he planned to make
her wait. If his goal was to get her hot and ready for whatever he had in mind, she’d arrived at that destination ten minutes ago. Hell, who was she kidding? She’d been hot and ready from the second she’d woken up to his kiss.

  The apple-scented candles she’d lit flickered, and the light breeze filtering in through the open windows only added to her heightened sense of awareness. Her body hummed with tension and desire as she waited for him.

  Jim hadn’t appreciated sexy underwear. “It’s going to end up on the floor anyway,” he would say, “so what’s the point?” The point, she was finding, as the bustier abraded her aroused nipples, was more about the way it made her feel: sexy, desirable, wanted. Whatever it did for her partner was secondary.

  Blaine appeared at the door and took in the scene before him. At the sight of him in the candlelight, her breath caught in her throat. He was, by far, the sexiest man she’d ever known, and the naked desire on his face, desire for her, nearly took her over the precipice she’d been clinging to.

  Unbuttoning his uniform shirt, he crossed the room to her.

  The trembling in Tiffany’s legs intensified as he took his gaze on a lazy journey from the straining nipples he could probably see through the sheer fabric to her quivering belly and smoldering center.

  He shrugged the shirt from his shoulders, and she licked her lips at the sight of his muscular chest.

  “Are you wet?” he asked gruffly.

  “Yes.”

  “How wet?”

  “Very.”

  He stood by the side of the bed looking down at her, the huge bulge in his pants the only indication that he was equally aroused. “You’d better check, just to be sure.”

  Mortified by the idea of touching herself while he watched, she hesitated.

  “Do it.”

  Now her hand was trembling, too, as she skimmed her fingertips over her belly and under the waistband of the thong. Her fingers slid through the slippery dampness between her legs.

  “Stroke yourself. I want to watch you come.”

  One part of her was shocked by his frank talk. The other part was hugely turned on. “I can’t. Not with you watching.”