Gansett After Dark (12 page)

For a long time after Laura fell asleep, Owen was awake, listening to the South Harbor foghorn and the crash of the waves hitting the breakwater. The sounds were among his favorite from a childhood short on happy memories. He and his six siblings had spent their summers here with their grandparents, which, other than their father’s deployments, was the only break they ever got from their violent upbringing.

Thinking about those long-ago summers also brought back memories of the warnings their father had given them about sharing their family’s business with anyone, even the grandparents who’d doted on them. Mark Lawry’s children had lived in fear of him all the time, even when they were hundreds of miles away.

Owen had spent a lot of time as an adult wondering why his twelve- or thirteen-year-old self had never confided in the grandparents who would’ve moved heaven and earth to rescue them from the hell they lived in. With the perspective of age and maturity, he knew he’d been governed by fear, but he wished so fervently that he’d had the courage to speak up, to say something, even if the consequences had been dire.
 

He’d never forget the way his strong, formidable grandmother had wept upon hearing the full truth of what her beloved grandchildren had endured at the hands of their father. It had taken a suicide attempt by his youngest brother, Jeff, to blow the lid off the entire mess. Jeff had gone to live with their grandparents in Florida and was now in college and thriving.
 

What might’ve been different for Jeff, for all of them, if Owen had only said something during one of those idyllic summers with their grandparents? Intellectually, he knew he was minimizing the overwhelming fear his twelve-year-old self had lived with when his thirty-four-year-old self still quaked at the thought of having to see his father in a few days.
 

He hated himself for that. Why should he feel fearful when he was bigger and stronger than the bully who’d raised him had ever been? How was it possible that his father still had the power to make him quake when he hadn’t even seen him in more than ten years?

Owen would give anything for a magic wand that he could wave to fast-forward their lives to after the trial, when his father was safely convicted and headed for prison, where he would finally pay for the vicious way he’d treated his wife and children for decades.
 

In the absence of magic, he had no choice but to summon the resolve to power through the ordeal and get to the other side of it, where he could move forward with Laura and the life they had planned. There was no place for his father in that life, and after trial, he would never have to see him again. That day couldn’t come soon enough for Owen.
 

He smoothed his hand over the silky length of Laura’s hair, taking comfort from her presence even when she was asleep. What she’d said about him not being anything like his father had struck a chord with him. He wanted so badly to believe she was right about that, but he’d always been aware of a simmering core of rage that lived within him. While he couldn’t imagine ever striking out at the people closest to him, the rage was part of him nonetheless.
 

Perhaps he would never find a need to tap that hidden resource, and he could only hope it would remain dormant and not rear its ugly head to cause him trouble. Staring up at the ceiling in the dark of night with the love of his life asleep in his arms, Owen made a silent vow never to allow rage to dictate his reactions to Laura or his children. He loved them too much to ever let that happen.

He was not his father’s son. He would never be his father’s son. Owen finally fell asleep, taking those thoughts with him into slumber.

This was a huge mistake, Sarah thought as she changed out of the outfit she’d worn to the clambake into the summer-weight nightgown she’d brought with her to sleep in. Earlier in the day, when she’d packed a bag to spend the night with Charlie, she’d been excited and filled with anticipation of spending hours alone with him.

Now that those hours were upon her, however, she was as nervous as a virgin on her wedding night. She felt ridiculous for allowing nerves to derail her determination to move forward with a man who’d been an amazing friend to her for nearly a year now. He’d been patient and kind and gentle with her from the very beginning. He’d shown her how a real man treats the woman he cares for, and now she wanted to show him how much she cared for him.

Except, she wasn’t sure she could. It had been so long since she’d experienced the kind of feelings Charlie aroused in her just by looking at her across the table with that sly smile and those piercing blue eyes. He never had a whole lot to say, but he managed to convey his affection for her with his actions, which spoke far louder than the loudest of words ever had.
 

She brushed her hair and teeth and summoned the fortitude to leave the bathroom, to get into bed with him, to hold him and touch him and kiss him. He’d told her he didn’t expect anything from her that she wasn’t ready to give, and she appreciated that he’d known those words would matter to her. But the nerves were present nonetheless.

Taking a deep breath, she put her folded clothes into her bag and stashed it in a corner of the bathroom. Rubbing her damp palms over the soft cotton of her gown, she emerged from the bathroom to find Charlie already in bed. He was propped up against several pillows, his chest bare and the covers pulled up to his waist. She knew a moment of complete panic when she wondered if he was naked under there.

The thought caused a nervous giggle to escape from her tightly clenched lips.

“What’s so funny?” he asked in the gruff tone that might’ve sounded harsh to someone who didn’t know him as well as she did. Despite the extreme injustice he’d endured during fourteen years in prison, there was nothing harsh about her Charlie.

Her Charlie
. How long had she thought of him as
her Charlie
? For quite some time now, if she were being honest with herself.

He folded the bed covers back and patted the mattress next to him. “Are you going to tell me?”
 

“This whole thing is funny,” Sarah said as she slid into bed next to him while willing her hammering heart to settle down before she hyperventilated or did something equally embarrassing.

He turned to face her, propping himself on an upturned hand. “You wanna let me in on the joke?”
 

She fixated on his muscular chest, the intricate tattoo that encircled his bicep, and the mat of dark chest hair that had begun to go gray in places. He was a finely built man, and she suddenly wanted to touch him, to feel his soft skin under her hands, to examine every hill and valley of the muscles that had fascinated her for months. “I’m nervous,” she said, keeping her gaze fixed on his chest rather than looking at his face.

“It’s just me, Sarah. Your friend Charlie.”

“Who’s now in bed with me and at least half naked.”

“Only half,” he said with a gruff chuckle.

“Are you nervous, too?”

“Hell yes, I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re here, finally, and I don’t want to do the wrong thing or scare you off.”

“You could never do the wrong thing.”

“Don’t be too sure. It’s been a long time since I was in bed with a woman. A long time.”

“So you haven’t, with anyone… Since you got out of prison?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so I’ve got my own set of worries, especially knowing what that bastard you were married to put you through. I want to give you everything you deserve, everything you should’ve had all along, but I don’t want to rush you—”

Sarah caressed the face that had become so dear to her. “Kiss me, Charlie.”

He put his arm across her middle and tugged her closer. “Is this okay?”

She nodded.

Leaning over her, he studied her for a long, breathless instant before he lowered his face to hers, his lips soft but persuasive. “This is all we have to do. It would be more than enough to have you sleep in my arms.”

“Why don’t we see what transpires and try not to worry too much about anything?”

“That sounds like a good plan to me.” He kissed her again, more insistently this time, his tongue seeking hers in deep thrusts that made her want so much more of him.

She took advantage of the opportunity to touch him, to learn the planes and textures of his muscular chest and arms.

Her touch seemed to inflame him, and he ended up on top of her as one kiss became two and then three. She couldn’t get close enough to him, even with her arms and legs around him, her fingers pressing into the muscles of his back as his lips and tongue continued to devour her. His arousal pulsed against her, hard and insistent, a reminder of where their heated kisses could be leading if she wanted to go that far.

It had been so long, so very, very long, since she’d wanted anything the way she wanted this man. With desire strumming through her entire body, setting her on fire with an almost painful need for more, she moaned against his lips.

He gasped as he broke the kiss. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose control. It’s too much.”

“It’s not enough.”

Looking down at her, he appeared stunned by what she’d said. “Sarah…”

“I need you. I need more.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Charlie. Yes, I’m sure.”

Chapter 9

After sneaking away from Carolina and Seamus’s wedding, Grant and Stephanie went home to their cozy cottage on Shore Point Road and talked for hours about all the things that had been on Stephanie’s mind for months now. With the floodgates open at last, the words poured out of her in a steady stream of worries and fears that she’d kept from him for so long that she was afraid he’d be hurt by her reluctance to share them with him.

“I can’t tell you how badly I wish you’d let me go through this with you, rather than feeling like you had to keep it from me,” he said when she finally ran out of things to say. They were curled up together on the sofa with lit candles on the coffee table casting a warm glow over the small room.

“You’ve had your own stuff to deal with, after the accident and everything. You were so undone by what happened that day, how you couldn’t save Dan and Steve, too, all while you were trying to finish the screenplay. I didn’t want to add to your burden.”

“You’re never a burden to me.”

“I was afraid it would change how you felt about me to hear I was having doubts about being a wife and mother.”

“Steph… God, how could you be afraid of that? Don’t you know how essential you are to me? Everything that happens, from the minute I get up until the minute I go to bed with you, I want to share with you. A thousand times a day I wonder what you’re doing, what you would say about whatever I’m doing, things I need to tell you… Your voice is in my head—always. There’s nothing you could say or do or feel that would make me want anyone else’s voice in my head. When are you going to realize that?”

She blinked back the tears she’d worked so hard to keep at bay while she bared her soul to him. But, as always, his words had incredible power over her. The things he said to her… “Deep inside, I knew it was wrong of me not to share my worries with you. I also knew that you’d want to fix what was wrong, because that’s what you always do. From the very beginning, you’ve wanted to fix what was wrong for me.”