McCarthys of Gansett Island Boxed Set Books 1-3 (79 page)

“I woulda taken ya all. I woulda given you and yer girls everything.”

Her eyes sparkled with tears. “Don’t say that. You don’t mean that.”

With his hand on her chin, he compelled her to look at him. “I mean that.” Before he could talk himself out of it, he brushed a soft kiss over her lips and drew her into a hug. “I mean it.”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” she asked, her voice muffled against his chest.

“Foolish pride,” he said with a rough chuckle. “Stupid, stupid pride. For all the good it did me.”

“I had my pride, too. I was convinced he’d come back. I probably would’ve sent you away.”

“And now?” He drew back so he could look down at her upturned face. “Are ya still waiting for him to come back?”

She shook her head. “Not anymore, but Tiffany has been trying to find him for a while now.”

The statement sent a shaft of shock and fear through Ned. “Is that so?” he managed to ask.

“She has no memory of him. I suppose it’s natural she’d be curious.”

“Does Maddie know she’s looking for him?”

Francine shook her head. “Maddie remembers him. She remembers him leaving. The poor thing sat in the window watching the ferry landing for weeks, hoping he’d come back. I don’t think she’d be happy to hear her sister is looking for him.”

“Do ya hope she finds him?”

“I want Tiffany to get the closure she needs. Beyond that, I don’t hope for much of anything anymore.”

“It don’t have to be that way, Francine. Ya got lots of years left to live yet. No reason they can’t be happy years.”

“Is that so?”

He nodded and had to fight back the urge to kiss her a second time.
 

“Will you come and see me again, Ned?”

“I’ll come see ya.”

She released a long sigh of what sounded like relief. “Good.”

Chapter 17

Luke went back to work after two unscheduled days off expecting some major ribbing from the guys at the marina. He had no doubt they all knew what he’d been doing and who he’d been doing it with. Thinking about the time with Syd made him feel giddy and goofy and hopeful. So very hopeful.
 

They’d spent the entire afternoon and evening in bed and had even eaten dinner in bed. He was stiff and sore and achy from what he’d demanded of his body, and he could only imagine how she would feel when she finally stirred. She’d been out cold when he left for work.

It had become clear to him during the most intense sexual marathon of his life that he’d never get enough of her. No matter how many times he had her, he only wanted her more afterward, and he suspected the same was true for her. After the most amazing night of his life, Luke felt like they’d finally reached a point where he could relax a bit. Even though they’d yet to say the words, he was certain she loved him as much as he loved her. What she planned to do about him—and them—was still up in the air, but he was growing more confident that her future would include him.

Arriving at the marina, he steeled himself for a thorough grilling from Big Mac and the guys but was surprised to find everyone’s attention focused on Ned. Even though he was relieved to escape their scrutiny, he couldn’t imagine what Ned, of all people, had done to deserve the third degree.

“I
saw
you with her,” Big Mac was saying as Luke joined them at the picnic table outside the restaurant where they had coffee and sugar donuts every morning.

“I don’t know what ya think ya saw, but it might be time for new glasses,” Ned fired back.

Mac snorted at the banter between his father and Ned, rolling his eyes at Luke. “Apparently,
someone
at this table had a hot date last night, but he’s not talking,” Mac said.

Luke’s mouth fell open in shock.
Ned?
Had a
date
?

Ned shrugged. “Wadn’t me.”

“I gotta get Grant down here,” Big Mac said, exasperated. “He saw you, too.”

“Two a ya seein’ things.” Ned shifted his eyes to Luke. “Let’s talk about lover boy over there. Ya want a story, there it ’tis.”

“I’d much rather talk about you,” Luke said, and the other guys cracked up. He was still trying to absorb the fact that Ned had been out on a date. He’d never known of Ned to be with
any
woman. Ever.

“I’m sure ya would,” Ned said, taking a sip of his coffee.
 

Stephanie, the waifish young woman who was spending her first summer on the island running the marina restaurant, came out bearing a platter of sugar donuts. “Fresh made,” she said as she put them down on the table.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Big Mac said, winking at her.

Stephanie’s cheeks turned bright red, and she scurried back inside.

“That poor little girl has a crush a mile wide on ya,” Ned said to Big Mac. “Speakin’ of getting eyes checked, she needs to see an eye doctor stat. Does she know ya’re older than dirt?”

“We’re not talking about me,” Big Mac said. “You oughta tell Mac who you were out gallivanting with last night. I’m sure he’d be very interested.”

“Who was it?” Mac asked. “And why would I care?”

“Why doncha just shut ya big yap?” Ned snapped at his friend. “Even on this godforsaken island, a man has a right to privacy.”

Big Mac roared with laughter, which made Luke smile. It was impossible to be around Big Mac when he was amused and not be sucked in.

“Whatever you say,” Big Mac said, wiping tears from his eyes.
 

Ned scowled at him.
 

“Now, boys,” Mac said. “Let’s all get along.”

“You shut yer yap, too,” Ned said, which set Big Mac off all over again.

“What the hell did I do?” Mac asked Luke.

He shrugged. Clearly, Ned was in a mood, and in some ways Luke could sympathize, since he didn’t want his business aired out over coffee and donuts any more than Ned did. Still, Luke couldn’t deny he was dying to know who Ned had been romancing. He hoped Big Mac would tell them later when Ned left in his cab to meet the next ferry.

“Hey,” Mac said, “check out this dickhead.”

The others looked to the pond, where a large powerboat was steaming through the anchorage, making the boats in its wake bob and dip precariously.

Big Mac’s brows furrowed with displeasure. “Where’s the Coast Guard when you need ’em?”

“Oh great,” Mac said. “He’s coming here.”

Big Mac stood. “Allow me, boys.”

“This oughta be good,” Ned said as he got up to get a better view of the show.

Mac and Luke followed Big Mac down the main pier, hanging back to allow him to take the lead.

“Whatcha need, Skip?” Big Mac called to the boat’s captain.

“Looking for dockage for a night or two.” He slurred his words, which the women on the boat found hilarious.

“Drunk at nine a.m.,” Mac muttered to Luke as they leaned against pilings to watch.

“You’re lucky the Coasties didn’t see you pouring on the coal in the harbor,” Big Mac said, keeping it friendly even though he was pissed. Drinking and driving was a problem on the water, too.

The guy’s insolent grin infuriated Luke, who was painfully aware of how much a drunk driver had taken from Sydney. Judging by the stiff set to Big Mac’s shoulders, he was none too pleased either. He pointed the forty-foot boat to a dock close to the end of the main pier, away from where he usually put families.
 

Good call
, Luke thought. He’d have done the same, but then he’d learned from the best—party boats at one end, families at the other.
 

Big Mac loved to say that half these guys probably bought their boats yesterday, and since there was no operating license required, they could take to the water the next day with a hugely powerful machine and no clue how to operate it. This captain was the worst of the worst—all about showing off how much power his boat had.
 

Luke noticed that the action on the dock had come to a stop, and everyone was watching. Since it was low tide, the boat was far below the standing pier, which made for a more difficult landing. One of the women managed to get a stern line to Big Mac, who wrapped it around a piling while Luke ran up to catch the bow line. It fell short and dropped into the water. The skipper reacted by pouring on the coal. Unprepared for the boat to lurch forward, Big Mac tried to keep a grip on his line.

Luke watched in horror as Big Mac suddenly disappeared off the dock.

Mac let out a scream that chilled Luke to his bones as he watched his friend jump in after his father.

“Someone call 911!” Ned shouted.

“We’ve got guys in the water!” Luke yelled, but the captain was so caught up in showing off for the women, he didn’t hear Luke.
 

He again threw the boat into gear, engaging the propellers.

“
Shut it down!
” Mac yelled from the water.

Without a thought to possible implications, Luke threw himself onto the boat ten feet below, landing with a great thud on the back deck, which finally got the captain’s attention.
 

“Kill the power,
now
!” Luke lay on the boat’s deck, his left ankle at an unnatural angle. “We’ve got two guys in the water!”

The captain looked down at him sprawled on the deck and finally seemed to get the message. He killed the power, and all Luke could hear in the ensuing silence was Mac screaming for help for his father. Thank God at least one of them was okay.

The boat went silent just as Mac reached his father, who was facedown with a dark slick of blood surrounding him. The back of his head was wide open. With shaking hands, Mac turned him over. “Dad. Wake up.” He slapped his cheeks. No response. Mac plugged his father’s nose and began rescue breathing, all while treading water to keep them both afloat in water that was cold year round. “Where the hell are the paramedics?” he called to the onlookers above.

“I can hear the ambulance,” someone said. “Hang in there, Mac. Just another minute or two.”

“Oh my God!” Stephanie cried from the pier above them. “What happened?”

Mac cradled his father’s head against his chest. “Don’t you dare even
think
about leaving us, do you hear?” he whispered between breaths. “Don’t you dare.”

“I didn’t know he was in the water,” the captain said, his words slurred.

“Shut up,” Luke said. “Just shut the fuck up.”

Mac continued to breathe for his father and went weak with relief when Big Mac finally coughed up a huge load of water and began to breathe again on his own. But he still didn’t come to.

“That’s it,” Mac said, tears streaming down his face. “Nice and easy.” He pressed his lips to his father’s forehead. “You’re going to be just fine.” Finally, he could hear the sirens getting closer. “Rescue’s almost here.”

The next half hour was a blur. Paramedics entered the water, loaded Big Mac on a gurney and lifted him out while a second crew tended to Luke. Chief of Police Blaine Taylor, a high school classmate of Mac’s and Luke’s, carted the boat owner away in handcuffs. While running after the paramedics hauling his father, Mac asked Stephanie to call his mother.
 

“I’ll find her and get her to the clinic myself.”

“Thank you.” Even though the morning sun was hot, Mac shivered uncontrollably after spending thirty minutes in the water. He handed Stephanie his ring of keys. “Will you lock up?” As she took the keys from him, he noticed her hands were shaking. “Where’s Luke?”

“Cops took him to the clinic. I heard one of them say his ankle is badly sprained, if not broken.”

“Shit,” Mac muttered.
What a clusterfuck
, he thought as he got into the ambulance to accompany his father to the island’s small community clinic. He sure hoped it was equipped for whatever his father needed.
 

Mac took the blanket the paramedics offered and tried not to focus too intently on his father’s gray face as they worked to stem the bleeding on the back of his head. He wanted to call Maddie, but right now all his focus was on his father. “Can you tell if he’s hurt anywhere else?” Mac asked.

“His arm is clearly fractured, and his blood pressure is really low, so there could be internal injuries.” Mac watched them pull a warming blanket over his father, trying to raise his body temperature.

He squeezed his eyes shut and burrowed into his own blanket, hoping to stop the violent trembling.
Please, God. I’ll do anything. Just don’t take him from us yet. Not yet
.

Much to Mac’s dismay, the clinic’s emergency personnel treated him like
he
was the patient. He struggled against their efforts to remove his wet clothes and get him into scrubs. “I’m fine! I don’t need to be seen. I have to know what’s going on with my father!”

“Mr. McCarthy, you’re hypothermic, and your pulse is weak,” the nurse said. She examined Mac’s eyes with a flashlight. “You might be a bit shocky, too.”

Mac’s chest began to ache the way it had during an anxiety attack a year or so ago, but he didn’t dare tell them that. “I’m not the patient!”

“You are now,” the formidable nurse declared after poking a thermometer in his ear. “Your temp is ninety-four.” She tugged a heated blanket up over him. “We’ve got to get you warmed up.”