Longing for Love (30 page)

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Authors: Marie Force

BOOK: Longing for Love
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“I know he would,” Syd said. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that and about whether I could bring another child into this world without worrying all the time about something happening to him or her.”

“I can understand why you’d be worried about that,” Grace said. “After what you’ve been through, it’s a natural concern.”

“The last thing I want is to make a nervous wreck out of a poor kid who was unlucky enough to be born to a freak-show, overprotective mother.”

“Luke wouldn’t let that happen,” Jenny said. “He’d balance you out.”

“That’s true,” Sydney said. “He’s the calm one.”

“You don’t have to decide right away, do you?” Stephanie asked.

“We’re not getting any younger, and kids are
so
exhausting. Especially when they’re little.”

“We’re here for you.” Grace squeezed Sydney’s arm as Jenny and Stephanie nodded in agreement. “If you want to talk about it, we’re happy to listen.”

“Thank you, guys. Maddie said the same thing when I talked to her about it. I’m lucky to be surrounded by such awesome friends.”

Grant rushed into the kitchen looking sinfully handsome in a dark suit and a blue dress shirt that made his eyes an even crazier shade of blue than usual. “Sorry I took so long. The phone was ringing off the hook at the house and… And you don’t care because you’re too busy to care. I’ve got your dress.” Reaching into his suit coat pocket, he produced her engagement ring. “And your ring, as requested.”

The other women laughed at how flustered the usually unflappable Grant McCarthy was on his fiancée’s big night.

Stephanie held out her left hand to allow him to do the honors. As he slid the ring on her finger, she looked up to find him watching her with fire in his eyes. She wondered if he, too, was remembering the day he’d proposed last fall. Thus far, they hadn’t discussed a wedding, and she hoped it was only because they’d both been so busy—her with getting the restaurant ready while still managing the marina restaurant and him with the screenplay about how she spent years trying to free her stepfather from prison. After they got the restaurant opened, she hoped he might be ready to talk about setting a date.

“Could I borrow you for one minute?” Grant asked when her ring was firmly in place.

Stephanie closed her fingers around his. “That’s about all I have.”

Grant led her around the corner, out of the hubbub.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Everything is great.” He drew her in close to him and planted a lingering kiss on her lips. “I wanted to wish you luck and tell you how very proud I am of you. Look at this place.” He pointed to the dining room, which shimmered in the light of a hundred candles. “You did it, babe.”

Overwhelmed by emotion, she leaned her forehead on his chest. “I couldn’t have done it without your love and your support, not to mention your money.”

“That’s
your
money, earned fair and square.”
 

Grant had paid her and Charlie a boatload for the rights to their story, and sometimes Stephanie had to remind herself that the days of counting every penny to pay lawyers to plead her stepfather’s case were over now. Charlie was free and living nearby on the island, working at the hotel and contributing—sparingly but regularly—to Grant’s story. At times, Stephanie wanted to pinch herself to believe the changes to her life that had occurred in the last year had actually happened and weren’t part of a lovely dream.

She owed most of her recent happiness to the man in her arms, who’d hired his friend Dan to help free Charlie and welcomed her into his family and his home. Most important, Grant had given her unconditional love, something she’d never had from anyone other than her beloved stepfather.

“Thank you,” she said, looking up at Grant.
 

He seemed genuinely perplexed. “For what?”

“My whole life changed the day I met you. I had no idea it was possible to be this happy.”

His sexy smile lit up his face. He took her hands and brought them to his lips. “Your happiness makes me happy. Now, my love, you need to go get ready to knock ’em dead tonight. If there’s anything I can do to help, you know where I’ll be.”

“Don’t worry about helping after you greet the guests with Shane. You’ve already done enough. Have a good time.”

“Speaking of good times, Mac asked me about joining him on one of the boats that’s racing tomorrow. Apparently, the captain’s crew is down with the flu, and he needs some stand-ins so he doesn’t have to forfeit the whole regatta. Do you care if I go?”

“I don’t mind at all. I plan to sleep in and take one last full day off before we open to the public.”

“Great, thanks.” He gave her another kiss. “We’ll have our own private celebration later.”

“You’re on.”

“I love you,” he said, giving her a tight hug.

“Love you, too. Thanks for propping me up during all of this.”

“Propping you up is one of my favorite things to do.”

He left her with one of his hundred-watt smiles and went to help his cousin Shane welcome their guests.

Since she never tired of the elegant way he moved, she watched him walk away and then went to get changed.

 

What had seemed like such a good idea earlier in the day became more and more preposterous as the clock edged closer to seven. Sarah’s hands shook as she attempted to apply mascara, something she hadn’t done in years. She’d bought a few cosmetics at Ryan’s pharmacy so she wouldn’t look like an old hag when Charlie came to pick her up. But if her hands didn’t quit shaking, she’d have the mascara everywhere but on her eyelashes.
 

The frustration built to overwhelming levels, until she finally threw the wand into the sink. “This is ridiculous,” she said to her reflection. “
You
are ridiculous. What business do you have going out with a man when you’re not even divorced yet from the monster you married?”

Except the part of her that hadn’t forgotten the giddy sensations that came with new love refused to be silenced. She couldn’t help but be curious about Charlie, especially after seeing a hint of the man who might be lurking under his gruff exterior. After nearly forty years married to the wrong man, was it too late to start over with someone else?

She smoothed a trembling hand over the one good dress she’d brought with her to the island and hoped the dark pink silk wasn’t too fancy for opening night at the restaurant. Taking another critical look at her reflection, Sarah decided she didn’t look too bad for an old gal. She cleaned up the mess the mascara wand had made in the sink and sprayed on a spritz of her favorite perfume.
 

Now, if only she could make her hands stop shaking before Charlie showed up.

Because she didn’t know what else to do with herself, she sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. After years of social events tied to her husband’s illustrious career, Sarah knew how to perch just so to keep from wrinkling her dress. It was one of the few useful skills she’d taken away from her life as a general’s wife. Most of the other lessons she’d happily forget if only she could.

At times, she wondered if he missed her or if he merely missed having someone to knock around when the rages overtook him. Knowing him, he’d probably found someone new to victimize. No way would he have gone this long without sex, so it was likely some other poor woman was learning the hard way that Mark Lawry was hardly the charming retired army officer he wanted the rest of the world to think he was. She and her children knew much better.

A pervasive sense of sadness tried to settle over her, but a gentle knock on the door pushed those thoughts away. Tonight wasn’t a time for sadness. It was a time for new beginnings and new friends and a whole new life. Dwelling on her painful past was pointless and counterproductive.
 

Sarah stood and willed her trembling legs to cross the room. She almost didn’t recognize the clean-shaven, well-dressed man outside her door. He looked so different she actually had to blink to be sure she wasn’t imagining him. “You clean up nicely.”

“Same to you,” he said, his eyes taking a slow and appreciative journey from her face to her knees and back up again to meet her gaze. “Very nice indeed.”

His praise and the not-so-subtle interest behind his words sent a flash of heat through her that settled between her legs, reminding her that while her marriage might be dead, she was still very much alive and still very much a woman.
 

Charlie extended an arm to her. “Shall we?”

Sarah didn’t hesitate when she curled her hand into the crook of his elbow. “By all means.”

 

Blaine settled Tiffany in his bed, and pulled a light blanket over her. Her dark hair fanned out on his pillow as her sweet lips moved adorably in her sleep the way Ashleigh’s did. She’d thought he’d be disgusted by how she looked, but to him, she was beautiful all the time, even when sick.
 

Keeping the bedside light on so she’d be able to find the bathroom if she got up, he went to the kitchen and located an old plastic bowl that he put on the bed next to her, in case she needed it.

Over the next couple of hours, he made a sandwich and drank a couple of beers, watched a few innings of the Red Sox game and reviewed some reports he’d brought home from the office. By nine o’clock, he could no longer take knowing she was asleep in his bed while he was in the next room acting like it didn’t matter that she was asleep in his bed.

He took a long, cold shower to remind himself that this night was about comfort and not about sex before he slid in next to her and wrapped an arm around her. Damn, she was still blazing hot with fever.

While he knew he should try to get her to take something for the fever, he was afraid her ravaged stomach wouldn’t be able to handle it.
 

She turned over and curled up to him, her face pressed against his chest.

The implied trust she conveyed by reaching for him in her sleep set off a chain reaction of emotion in him. She was so damned sweet, even if she wanted the rest of the world to see her bitter, edgy side. He’d seen the sweetness, but he adored snarky, sarcastic Tiffany, too. Blaine smoothed a hand over her hair, hoping she’d sleep off the worst of the bug overnight.
 

He must’ve dozed off, waking when she moaned in her sleep.
 

“Tiffany,” he whispered.

Her eyes opened, and she blinked him into focus.
 

“Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“Need anything?”

“Maybe some water. I’m so thirsty.”

“Coming right up.” He released her to get up and retrieve ice water from the kitchen. When he returned to the bedroom, he helped her sit up and held the glass for her.

She took a couple of greedy sips. “That’s good.”

“Take it slow. You don’t want to get your stomach going again.”

As if it had heard him, her stomach let out a huge growl that made them laugh.

“That’s attractive,” Tiffany said. “In fact, I must be knocking your socks off with how attractive I am right now.”

Blaine leaned in and kissed her square on the lips. “You’re gorgeous, even when you’re sick.”

“Sure I am.”

“Would I lie to you?”

“I don’t know. Would you?”

Even though they’d been joking around, he sensed that she expected a serious answer. “Never.”

“That’s good to know,” she said with a small smile that told him how much his one-word answer had meant to her.

“How about some crackers to see if your stomach can handle a little food?”

“Earlier, I thought I’d never eat again, but now crackers sound good, I feel a hundred times better than I did before.”

“That’s good. Be right back.” He returned a minute later with a box of oyster crackers and a couple of painkillers to combat the fever, which she took with another big swallow of water. “This was the best I could do,” he said of the oyster crackers.

“I love them.”

Propped on pillows, he sat next to her and held the box while she munched on a handful of the small crackers.
 

“This makes me want clam chowder,” she said.

“A sure sign that you’re on the road to recovery.”

“No kidding. A few hours ago and the words ‘clam chowder’ would’ve made me puke.”

“If it makes you feel any better, the flu is taking the island by storm. I’ve heard of at least two dozen cases.”

“Lucky me.”

He took her hand and linked their fingers. “Lucky
me
. I get to take care of you.”

“It’s all part of your devious plot to make yourself essential to me.”

“How am I doing so far?”

“Pretty good.”

“Only
pretty
good? That’s disappointing.”

He loved listening to her laugh, loved the way her eyes danced with mischief and her lips pursed in thought. There were a lot of things he loved about her, he realized in a moment of clarity.
 

“Why did you suddenly get all serious?” she asked, mimicking his expression.

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