Rising Tides (31 page)

‘‘Want me to pull you one, Mr. Monroe?’’

‘‘ ’Preciate it.’’ Pete nodded toward the celebrants in the backyard. ‘‘Got you a crowd here, today, Phil. Fine spread, too. I remember how your folks’d throw a picnic most every summer. It’s nice you’re keeping up the tradition.’’

‘‘Anna thought of it,’’ Phillip told him, handing Pete a foaming beer in a tall plastic cup.

‘‘Women do, more’n men, I suppose. If I don’t get the chance, you tell her I appreciate the invite. I gotta get back to the waterfront in an hour or so, set up for the display.’’

‘‘You always put on a good one. Best fireworks on the Shore.’’

‘‘Tradition,’’ Pete said again. It was a word that mattered.

C
AROL MONROE HADN’T
been the only one to notice the way Ethan and Grace had walked off together. Speculation and sly grins started to spread over the potato salad and steamed crabs.

Mother Crawford wagged her fork at her good friend Lucy Wilson. ‘‘You ask me, Grace is going to have to put her foot down if she wants Ethan Quinn to come up to snuff before that baby’s old enough for college. Never seen a man moved so slow.’’

‘‘He’s thoughtful,’’ Lucy said loyally.

‘‘Not saying different. Just saying slow. Seen them moony-eyed over each other since before that boy got his own workboat. Has to be nearly ten years passed. Stella and I—bless her soul—had a conversation over it a time or two.’’

Lucy sighed over her fruit salad, and not just because
she was watching her calories. ‘‘Stella knew her boys inside and out.’’

‘‘That she did. I said to her one day, ‘Stella, your Ethan’s got cow’s eyes for the young Monroe girl.’ ’’ And she laughed, said how he had himself a hard case of puppy love, but that sometimes it was the best way to start the real thing. Never could figure why Ethan didn’t step forward a bit before Grace got herself tangled up with that Jack Casey. Never did like him much.’’

‘‘He wasn’t a bad sort, just weak. Look there, Mother,’’ Lucy said, lowering her voice like a conspirator. Shenodded toward Ethan and Grace, as they walked back around the side of the house, hands linked, the baby sleeping on his shoulder.

‘‘Nothing weak about that one.’’ Mother wiggled her brows and leered at her friend. ‘‘And slow can be a fine thing in bed, can’t it, Lucy?’’

Lucy hooted. ‘‘It can, Mother. That it can.’’

Blissfully unaware of the speculation buzzing about a quiet walk around the house on a hot summer afternoon, Grace stopped to pour some iced tea. Before she’d half filled the first glass, her mother was bustling over, beaming smiles.

‘‘Oh, let me hold that precious girl. Nothing so soothing as sitting with a sleeping baby.’’ She’d slipped Aubrey out of Ethan’s arms while she talked, her voice low and quick. ‘‘It’ll give me a fine excuse to sit in the shade a while and be quiet. I swear, Nancy Claremont’s been talking both my ears off. You young people should be off enjoying yourself.’’

‘‘I was going to lay her down,’’ Grace began, but her mother just waved it away.

‘‘No need, no need. I don’t get nearly enough chances to hold her when she’s still. Go on and finish your walk. Ought to get out of the sun, though. It’s brutal.’’

‘‘It’s a good idea,’’ Ethan mused as Carol hurried off,
cooing to the sleeping Aubrey. ‘‘A little shade and a little quiet wouldn’t hurt.’’

‘‘Well . . . all right, but I’ve only got another hour or so before I have to leave.’’

He’d been tugging her gently toward the trees, thinking that he could find a sheltered spot, a private spot, and kiss her again. He stopped at the verge and frowned at her. ‘‘Leave for what?’’

‘‘For work. I’m on at the pub tonight.’’

‘‘It’s your night off.’’

‘‘It was—that is, it usually is, but I’m putting on some more hours.’’

‘‘You work too many hours already.’’

She smiled, distracted—then relieved when the shade she walked into cut the intense heat in half. ‘‘It’s just a few more. Shiney was good about helping me out so I can make up what I had to pay for the car. Oh, this is nice.’’ She closed her eyes, breathed deep of the moist, cool air. ‘‘Anna said you and your brothers were going to play later. I’ll be sorry to miss that.’’

‘‘Grace, I told you if money was a problem, I’d help you out.’’

She opened her eyes again. ‘‘I don’t need you to help me out, Ethan. I know how to work.’’

‘‘Yeah, you know how. It’s damn near all you do.’’ He paced away from her, paced back as if trying to shake off what was biting at his gut. ‘‘I hate you working down there.’’

Her spine stiffened—she could feel it go hard and straight, vertebra by vertebra. ‘‘I don’t want to fight with you about that again. It’s a good job, honest work.’’

‘‘I’m not fighting with you, I’m saying it.’’ He stalked toward her, the swirling temper in his eyes surprising enough that she backed up against a tree.

‘‘I’ve heard you say it before,’’ she said evenly. ‘‘And it doesn’t change the facts. I work there, and I’m going to go on working there.’’

‘‘You need looking after.’’ It scraped him raw that he couldn’t be the one to do it.

‘‘I don’t.’’

Hell she didn’t. There were already tired smudges under those changeable green eyes, and now she was telling him she’d be carting trays until two in the morning. ‘‘Did you pay Dave for the car yet?’’

‘‘Half.’’ It was humiliating. ‘‘He was good enough to give me until next month to pay him the rest.’’

‘‘You won’t pay him.’’ That, at least, was something he could do. Would do, by Christ. ‘‘I will.’’

She forgot about humiliation. Her chin came up, sharp and fast as a bullet. ‘‘You will not.’’

Another time he would have persuaded, cajoled. Or simply done the deed on the quiet. But something was bubbling up in him—something that had been there, simmering, since he’d turned that morning and seen her. It wouldn’t let him think, only feel and act. With his eyes on hers he slipped a hand up, over her throat.

‘‘Be quiet.’’

‘‘I’m not a child, Ethan. You can’t—’’

‘‘I’m not thinking about you like a child.’’ Her eyes were bright and sharp. They were heating the something that was inside him to a boil. ‘‘I stopped being able to do that, and I can’t go back to it. Do what I want this time.’’

She didn’t know when her breath had started to back up or her skin to shiver. Dimly she felt the rough bark of the tree bite into her hands as she pressed them against it. She didn’t think he was talking about her accepting a few hundred dollars for a car any longer.

‘‘Ethan—’’

His other hand was on her breast. He hadn’t meant to put it there, but it covered her and his fingers began to flex and knead. Her shirt was still damp, just a little damp. He could feel her skin go hot under it. ‘‘Do what I want this time,’’ he repeated.

Her eyes were huge. He was falling into them, drowning
in them. Her heart was pounding against his hand, as if he held it beating in his palm. His mouth crushed down on hers with a violent greed that he was for once helpless to stem. He heard her shocked cry muffled against his assaulting mouth. And it only thrilled him darkly.

The heat swarmed from him, stunning her. His teeth nipped roughly into her lip, making her gasp, openingherself to the swift and skillful invasion of his tongue.

Sensations flew too quickly to separate one from the other, but all were dark and keen and compelling. His hands were everywhere, tugging up her shirt, claiming her breasts, scraping those deliciously rough palms over her. She felt him quiver, gripped his shoulders to balance them both.

Then he was yanking at her shorts.

No! Part of her mind drew back in shock, all but screamed it. He couldn’t mean to take her, here, like this, only yards away from where people sat and children played. But another part of her simply moaned in shocked excitement and whispered yes.

Here. Now. Like this. Exactly like this.

When he drove into her, her scream would have carried some of both, but it was swallowed by his mouth, lost in his ragged breaths.

He thrust hard, fast, deep, his body surging into hers, his hands biting into her tight, round bottom as he plunged. His mind was wiped clean of everything but this one desperate need. When she came, exploding over him, around him, in him, his thrill was dark and primal and coated his skin with sweat.

His own climax had claws, hot-tipped, razor-sharp, that ripped through him brutally, so that his vision went red.

Even when it cleared he continued to shudder, to pant. Gradually he became aware of what was. He heard the wild drumming of a woodpecker deeper in the woods, the tinkle of laughter from beyond the trees. And Grace’s sobbing breaths.

He felt the breezing cooling his skin. And her trembles.

‘‘Oh, God. Goddamn it.’’ His curse was quiet, vicious.

‘‘Ethan?’’ She hadn’t known, would never have believed anyone could have such a need inside them. For her. ‘‘Ethan,’’ she said again and would have lifted her weak arms around him if he hadn’t stepped back.

‘‘I’m sorry. I—’’ There weren’t words. Nothing he could say would be right, would be enough. He bent, slipped her shorts back up, fastened them. With the same deliberate care, he straightened her shirt. ‘‘I can’t offer you an excuse for that. There isn’t any.’’

‘‘I don’t want an excuse. I don’t ever need one for what we do together, Ethan.’’

He stared at the ground while a sick pounding began in his head. ‘‘I didn’t give you a choice.’’ He knew what it was not to have a choice.

‘‘I’ve already made my choice. I love you.’’

He looked at her then, everything that lived inside of him swirling into his eyes. Her mouth was swollen where he’d ravished it. Her eyes were enormous. Her body would carry bruises from his hands. ‘‘You deserve better.’’

‘‘I like to think I deserve you. You made me feel . . . desired. That’s not even the word.’’ She pressed a hand to her still speeding heart. ‘‘Craved,’’ she realized. ‘‘Craved. And now I’m sorry . . .’’ Her gaze flicked away from his. ‘‘I’m sorry for any woman who’s never known what it is to be craved.’’

‘‘I scared you.’’

‘‘For a minute.’’ Mortified, she blew out a breath. ‘‘Damn it, Ethan, do I have to tell you that I liked it? I felt helpless and overpowered and it was so exciting. You lost control, and you have this incredibly unshakablecontrol most of the time. I liked knowing that something I did, or something I am, snapped it.’’

He pulled his hand through his hair. ‘‘You confuse me, Grace.’’

‘‘I don’t mean to. But I don’t think that’s such a bad thing, either.’’

He let out a sigh, then stepped forward just enough that he could smooth her tousled hair into place. ‘‘Maybe the trouble is we’ve been thinking we know each other so well. But we don’t have all the pieces.’’ He picked up her hand, studied it with that thoughtful frown she loved. Then he kissed her fingers in a way that made her lashes flutter.

‘‘I don’t ever want to hurt you. In any way.’’ But he had, and he would.

He kept his hand in hers as he walked her back toward the sunlight. He would have to tell her about those pieces of himself soon. So she would understand why he couldn’t give her more.

^‘‘
S
O, I DON’T KNOW IF
I’m going to go out with him anymore because he’s getting way too possessive, you know? I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but you gotta live, right?’’

Julie Cutter crunched into the shiny green apple she’d plucked out of the fruit bowl in Grace’s kitchen. She felt every bit as much at home there as she did next door. Comfortable, she hitched herself up to sit on the counter while Grace folded laundry on the table.

‘‘Plus,’’ Julie went on, gesturing with her apple, ‘‘I met this incredibly cute guy. He works at the computer store at the mall? He wears these little metal-frame glasses and has the sweetest smile.’’ She grinned, lighting up her pretty heart-shaped face. ‘‘I asked him for his phone number, and he blushed.’’

‘‘You asked him for his phone number?’’ Grace was listening with only half an ear. She loved it when Julie came over just to visit. She was always so full of fun and talk and energy. But today it was hard to concentrate. Her
mind was so full of what had happened between her and Ethan in those shady woods. What had leapt out of him to devour her—and why it had left him so distant afterward?