by Marie Force
“Laura was saying she’s talked to you about parking and crowd control for the open house tonight,” Mason said.
“That’s right. I’ve got two patrol officers assigned to keep an eye on things here and to handle any traffic issues.”
“Sounds good,” Mason said. “I’ve signed off on my inspection, so you’re approved to open, Laura.”
“That’s the best news I’ve had in weeks,” Laura said. “I was so afraid Stephanie’s opening would get messed up by something I missed in the hotel.”
“Not to worry.” Mason handed her a certificate. “You covered all the bases. Wish you a lot of luck with the place.”
“Thank you. We need all the luck we can get.”
Blaine looked around at the cozy lobby that boasted freshly painted white wainscoting, sage walls and furniture he’d heard called “shabby chic.” Taken as a whole, it worked magnificently. “It looks so good, Laura. It’s great to have the Surf reopened. The town wasn’t the same without her.”
“I agree. Fingers crossed for a smooth opening.” As she said the words, Blaine watched her wobble and reached out a hand to steady her. He noticed a fine sheen of perspiration on her forehead.
“Are you okay?”
“I can’t believe it, but I think I’m getting sick. I feel awful.”
“It’s going around the island,” Blaine said.
“I’ve heard the clinic is overrun today,” Mason added.
“Great,” Laura said with a moan. “This is so not what I need right now.”
Laura’s fiancé, Owen Lawry, came bounding down the stairs, wearing a red bandanna pirate-style over his unruly blond hair. “Hey, Blaine, Mason.” He shook hands with both men. “How goes it?”
“We’re good,” Blaine said, “but poor Laura is not so good.”
Owen’s attention immediately shifted to his fiancée. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I’m not feeling so great, but don’t worry. I’ll soldier through.” She barely got the words out before she turned a disturbing shade of green.
“Owen,” Blaine said, worried that she might pass out with the baby attached to her.
“I’ve got her.” Owen deftly transferred the baby pouch to his own shoulders and put an arm around Laura.
She leaned into him. “I can’t puke in front of you again. I just can’t.”
“Morning sickness,” Owen said for Blaine and Mason’s benefit. “It was brutal.” To Laura, he said, “Let’s get you upstairs, honey.”
“I have so much to do!”
“My mom and I have got you covered. Don’t worry.”
“Speaking of your mom,” Blaine said. “Is she around?”
“Second floor, far left,” Owen said. “I just left her giving the bathrooms up there a final cleaning.”
“I’ll find her.”
“Everything okay?” Owen asked, seeming anxious.
Blaine knew he was thinking of the night last fall when his mother arrived on the island beaten and broken after the final showdown with her abusive ex-husband. Owen’s father, a retired air force general, was due to stand trial on domestic assault charges later in the year. “Everything is fine. I could use her help with something. That’s all.”
“I’m sure she’d be glad to do anything she could for you after all you’ve done for us.”
During the short exchange, Laura’s eyes had closed, and she was leaning against Owen.
“You’d better get her to bed.”
When Owen tried to rouse her, she didn’t budge. “Asleep on her feet.”
“Let me take the baby,” Blaine said, “and you can take her.”
“Thanks, man.” Owen dipped his head so Blaine could work the baby free of the pouch.
“Stay put,” Blaine said to Wyatt. “I’ll be right back.”
“You got it.”
Holden molded himself to Blaine’s shoulder without waking. As the sweet scent of baby shampoo and powder filled his senses, Blaine was filled with a new kind of longing. What would it be like, he wondered, to have a baby son of his own? What would it be like to have a baby who had Tiffany’s and Ashleigh’s dark hair and green eyes? As he carried Holden upstairs, it dawned on him that the idea of being a husband and father didn’t terrify him the way it would have even a few weeks ago.
She’d changed something in him, something he wasn’t sorry to see changed. She’d smoothed out his bitter edges and given him reason to hope again. Halfway up the stairs, he stopped short, astounded to realize he was falling in love with her. He, the guy who’d sworn he was done with love, was suddenly on his way to being flat on his face in love again. This time was different, though. This time he was falling for someone real and genuine and sexy as all get-out.
“Blaine?” With Laura in his arms, Owen looked down from the third-floor landing. “Everything okay?”
“Yep. I’m coming.” He delivered Holden to the apartment Owen and Laura shared on the third floor. Owen was pulling the covers over Laura’s shoulders when Blaine entered through the door Owen had left open for him.
“Let me know if you guys need anything,” Blaine said as he handed over the baby to his stepfather.
“Thanks for your help.” Owen kissed the baby’s forehead. “Heck of a time for Laura to get sick with the hotel opening this week. She’ll be in a panic about work.”
“It’ll all be fine. This is Gansett. People expect things to be laid-back.”
“That’s true. I’ll remind her of that when she wakes up having a panic attack.”
“Good luck,” Blaine said as he left Owen to take care of his family. Descending the stairs to the second floor, he looked for Sarah Lawry in each of the three bathrooms and found her in the last one he checked. “Sarah?”
The woman nearly jumped out of her skin, and Blaine berated himself for sneaking up on her. “Sorry to startle you.”
“Oh, hi, Chief Taylor. No apology needed. I’m jumpy by nature.”
Blaine was certain that years of abuse at the hands of her ex-husband had contributed to her jumpy nature. “Please, call me Blaine. How’re you doing?” He took in the faded blonde hair that she wore in a stylish bob and the gray eyes that were so much like her son’s.
“Very well. Busy getting the hotel ready to open. It’s so exciting to see it back in business. Mother and Dad have been so sad that it was closed since they retired a few years back. Thank goodness for Laura.”
Her chattiness astounded Blaine, who’d become accustomed to one-word answers and downcast eyes whenever he spoke to her. To see her emerging from her shell was nothing short of miraculous. “I was just with Laura, and it seems she’s come down with the flu that’s making its way around the island.”
“Oh no! Poor thing! It’s the worst possible time.”
“She said the same thing. Owen is with her and taking care of her and the baby.”
Sarah’s smile lit up her face, and Blaine caught a glimpse of the pretty young woman she’d been before her husband broke her spirit. “He’s so crazy about both of them. Never thought I’d see that happen.”
“Happens to the best of us eventually, I suppose.”
Sarah tilted her head to take a measuring look at him as only a mother could do. “Is that so?”
Blaine smiled and shrugged, unwilling to disclose his newfound feelings to anyone until he shared them with Tiffany. “I was wondering if I could ask a favor.”
“For you? Anything.”
“That’s very kind of you. There’s a woman in town who I think might benefit from your wisdom.”
“What wisdom do I have to share with anyone?”
“You left an abusive relationship.”
“Oh. That kind.”
“She’s recently come to the understanding that she can no longer be with the man who hurt her, but I worry about her wavering and going back to him. Next time, I fear he might kill her.”
“And you think I can help her?”
Blaine feared he might’ve mad
e a misstep by bringing up this subject with her when she seemed to be doing so much better. “I do. You can tell her that it doesn’t get better. It only gets worse.”
A long moment passed while she considered what he’d said. “I’d be happy to talk to her if you think it would help.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“When would you like to do it?”
“How about tomorrow?”
“That’d be fine, as long as the kids don’t need me to help with the baby.”
“I’ll call you, and we’ll set something up. Thanks again. I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Blaine?”
He turned back to her.
“You’re good at what you do.”
“Thank you,” he said, ridiculously pleased by her praise.
“Sarah!” A male voice boomed from the stairway to the third floor.
Sarah stood up a little taller and looked over Blaine’s shoulder, her face turning an intriguing shade of pink.
Blaine turned to find Stephanie’s stepfather Charlie Grandchamp in the hallway.
“Sorry,” Charlie said in the gruff, clipped tone he favored. “Didn’t realize you were busy.”
“It’s fine, Charlie. You know Chief Taylor?”
“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”
“Good to meet you.” Blaine shook Charlie’s hand. “Heard a lot about you.”
“Bet you have.”
Blaine wasn’t surprised by the terse response to a police officer. “I’ve heard only good stuff,” Blaine said. “Stephanie and Grant speak highly of you.”
Charlie eyed him with skepticism that Blaine suspected was ingrained after his years in prison. “Nice to hear.”
“I won’t keep you folks,” Blaine said. “I know you’ve got work to do. I’ll be in touch, Sarah.”
“Thanks, Blaine.”
Chapter 16
“What was that all about?” Charlie asked after Blaine walked away.
As always, when he turned his pent-up intensity in her direction, Sarah’s heart pounded and her palms went damp. “He asked for a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
In all the months Charlie had worked at the hotel and chipped away at her defenses, she’d never mentioned her husband or what had happened between them—and she didn’t plan to. “The kind of favor a friend asks another friend to do for them.”
“Hmm.”
Sarah was well used to Charlie’s one-word answers, along with his grunts, his scowls and his overall surliness. None of that had kept her from developing a world-class crush on the ex-con. Imagining what her parents would have to say about it almost made her giggle. Imagining what her soon-to-be ex-husband would have to say made her feel euphoric. Thinking about what her seven children would have to say, however, filled her with nervous energy.
Although, she thought, Owen liked Charlie, but liking him and approving of his mother desiring him was another thing altogether. Her eyes settled on Charlie’s bulging biceps and the intricate tattoo that circled his arm. She’d love to ask him about it and what it meant, but she wouldn’t dare. Instead, she took every opportunity to admire the muscles on top of muscles that were always on full display thanks to the tank-top shirts he wore to work. Even though he was only in his early fifties, his hair was completely gray, but he wore it in a severe-looking buzz cut that made Sarah wonder what it might look like if allowed to grow longer. She’d love to find out.
As compelling as she found the rest of him, his steely blue eyes and sensual lips really did her in. Sometimes, when she allowed herself to think about what it might be like—
“What’re you staring at?” Charlie asked, interrupting Sarah’s musings.
Horrified to realize she’d been staring at him, Sarah cleared her throat and tried to find something to do with her restless hands. “Nothing.”
“Looked to me like you were staring at me.”
“I was not staring at you.”
“Must’ve been that other guy standing behind me, then.”
Sarah’s mouth fell open. “Did you just make a joke?”
“So what?”
She loved that she’d managed to fluster him. “So you never make jokes. You never smile or laugh or say more than you absolutely have to.”
His face twisted into a smug grin. “Been paying pretty close attention, huh?”
Damn it. She’d given far too much away with that statement.
He took a step closer, and Sarah wasn’t sure what she wanted more—to rush toward him or run for her life. Because she couldn’t decide, she remained absolutely still and waited to see what he would do.
“I’ve been paying attention, too.” This was said in a low, sexy tone that made goose bumps pop up on her arms.
“Oh.” Her throat felt tight all of a sudden. So did her skin, as if it was too small for her body. “You have?”
He nodded. “You don’t like eye contact. You don’t care for being startled or surprised. When someone moves too quickly near you, you shy away as if you’re expecting to get knocked around or something.”
Too close. He was getting far too close with both his words and his presence.
Sarah took a step back.
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t be afraid of me.”
“I’m not,” she said, even though he terrified her for entirely different reasons than her ex-husband had.
Eyeing her skeptically, he tipped his head to one side. “No?”
Determined to be brave, she shook her head.
“You’re going to the restaurant opening tonight?”
Sarah nodded. “Of course.”
“You want to go with me?”
Her mind went blank again and then came raging back to life when it dawned on her that he was asking her out. Charlie Grandchamp, the object of the first crush she’d had in forty years, was asking her out.
“Often when a man extends himself to a lady, he expects her to answer with a yes or a no. Either answer will do, but it would be nice to hear one of them.”
And he was funny, too. Who’d have guessed it? “Um…”
“That wasn’t one of the options.”
Sarah couldn’t help but smile at the startling discovery that underneath all the gruffness and bluster was a rather charming man. Who cared what her parents, children or godforsaken ex-husband would have to say? She liked Charlie. She had enjoyed working with him at the hotel. She was curious about him, about his life, about how he’d ended up in prison for something he didn’t do. And most interestingly of all, she was attracted to him.
Apparently, the attraction worked both ways, and wasn’t that lovely?
“Yes.”
He released a deep breath she hadn’t realized he was holding. “You know how to make a guy suffer.”
“It wasn’t intentional.”
“I know that. A classy dame like you going out with a guy like me…” He shrugged. “I don’t blame you for being reluctant.”
“I’m not reluctant. Not one bit reluctant.”
“Is that right?”
“Uh-huh.” God, this is fun, she thought, as blood zinged through her veins. It had been a very long time since anything had interested or excited her the way Charlie Grandchamp did.
“Well, good. I’ll pick you up at your room around seven. Don’t go downstairs without me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He nodded, turned to leave and ran smack into Owen. Judging by the astonished expression on his face, her son had overheard the last part of their conversation.
“See you folks tonight,” Charlie said as he passed Owen.
“Ah, yeah, see you,” Owen said.
When they were alone, Owen stared at his mother for a long time, so long she had time to wonder if he was merely surprised by what he’d heard or angry. “Did he… Are you…”
“Yes and yes.”
“Oh. Okay.”
>
“Is it?”
“Is it what?”
“Okay with you?”
“Jeez, you certainly don’t need my permission to go out with a guy.”
“I don’t?”
“Mom, come on…”
“You know he was in prison, right?”
“Everyone knows that.”
“And it doesn’t matter?”
Owen looked past her at something on the wall, obviously thinking about what he wanted to say. When he finally brought his gaze back to meet hers, Sarah ached at the pain she saw in his eyes. “For so long you were married to a man the whole world thought was a hero, when he’s the one who should’ve been in prison. It doesn’t matter to me what baggage Charlie might be dragging around behind him. We’ve all got our share. All that matters to me is that he treats you with the respect you deserve.”
“Owen…”
He stepped forward to put his arms around her.
Sarah rested her face against his chest and held on tight. “I don’t know how you did it growing up the way you did, but you’re a man any mother would be proud to claim as her son.”
“You had an awful lot to do with that.”
Shaking her head, she pulled back from him. “I failed you so profoundly. All of you.”
“Don’t say that. You did the best you could in an unimaginable situation. None of us blame you for what he did.”
“You should blame me for not getting you out of there, for not protecting you the way a mother should, for putting up with his abuse when I should’ve left him years ago. There’s a lot you should blame me for.”
“We choose not to, so maybe it’s time you gave yourself a break, too.”
Sarah thought about that and how happy she’d been living at the hotel she’d called home as a girl, this time with Owen and Laura and baby Holden. She thought about getting to know Charlie and other people on the island that had begun to feel like home again, and she thought about how her children had supported and propped her up during the divorce and legal proceedings as her case against their father wound its way through court.
“Perhaps you’re right. It might be time to give myself a break.”
Owen’s smile reminded her, achingly, of his father, not that she would ever tell him that. “Good.” He kissed her forehead. “I came down to tell you about Laura being sick. I need to get back upstairs to check on her and Holden.”
