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Page 7

“Yeah,” Grant said. “I really, really do.”

  “What if she decides she doesn’t want to live here on the island? What if she wants to go home to Providence and open the restaurant she’s always talked about?”

  She’d talked about a restaurant? To whom? Not to him. Stunned to hear that, Grant forced himself to focus. “We’ll go to Providence, if that’s what she wants. I can work anywhere.” His failed relationship with Abby had taught him that much. “I want her to be happy.”

  “I want that, too. More than you know. She gave up a big chunk of her life trying to get my sorry ass sprung from jail.”

  “She’d do it again in a heartbeat. You know that.”

  “She’s a good kid. She deserves better than what she got from her mother and me.”

  “From her mother, maybe. You saved her life. I don’t think she feels you owe her anything.”

  “I owe her everything,” Charlie said, his eyes flashing with a rare show of emotion. “She’s the only one who gave a shit about whether I rotted in prison for the rest of my life. She deserves the whole world served up on a silver platter.”

  A knot of emotion lodged in Grant’s chest. He couldn’t agree more. “I want to give her that. If she’ll let me.”

  “She’ll fight you if you try to do too much for her.”

  “Believe me,” Grant said with a shaky laugh, “I already know that.” He forced a deep breath into his lungs. “Would I have your blessing?”

  “Does it matter so much to you that an ex-con approves?”

  “Yes, it matters. Very much so.”

  Charlie picked up a rag off the bench and wiped the dirt from his hands. “I’ll give you my blessing if you promise you’ll always be good to her, put her needs before your own and be faithful to her. Can you do all that?”

  “Yes.” He cleared his throat again. “Sir.”

  “In that case…” Charlie extended his hand to Grant.

  Grant shook his hand. “Thank you.”

  “No, Grant,” Charlie said, calling him by name for the first time. “Thank you. I’ll never have the words to properly thank you for what you did for me—and for Stephanie.”

  Overwhelmed by Charlie’s rare show of emotion, Grant said, “All I did was make a few calls.” Charlie’s fortunes had changed dramatically when Grant asked his celebrity lawyer friend Dan Torrington to take on the case. A call to Grant’s uncle, Superior Court Judge Frank McCarthy, had also helped the cause.

  “They were the right calls, and they made a huge difference.” Charlie shook his head in disbelief. “I wake up every morning to the sound of the ocean and seagulls, and I still think I’m dreaming.”

  “I’m really glad it worked out—for your sake and Stephanie’s.” He paused before he added, “When you’re ready, I’d like to talk to you about the movie.”

  “I’m not there yet.”

  “Whenever. I’d better get back before Steph starts to wonder where I am.”

  “When will you propose?”

  “In the next few days. When the time is right.”

  Charlie nodded. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you.” As Grant walked back to the motorcycle, he picked over the conversation in amazement. It was, without a doubt, the most substantial conversation he’d ever had with Stephanie’s stepfather, who’d seemed wary and suspicious of him from the day they met.

  He was puzzled, however, about why Stephanie had never mentioned her dream to open her own restaurant. He’d have to find a way to bring that up.

  Riding the bike back home to her, Grant tried to think of the perfect way to ask her to marry him. It had to be as special as she was. Once she had his ring on her finger, maybe she’d stop worrying that what they had wouldn’t last. Maybe they both would.

  Chapter 7

  After they enjoyed the delicious dinner he’d made, Owen and Laura settled in to watch a movie. Somehow, she ended up reclined with her feet in his lap and was treated to a divine foot massage. The last thing she remembered was the feel of his thumbs pressed against her arches. She awoke to him carrying her upstairs.

  “Did I fall asleep again?”

  “Yep. I can set my watch by it. Fifteen minutes—tops—and you’re out.”

  Laura curled her arms around his neck, enjoying being pressed against his chest. “I’m not always this much fun. Only when pregnant.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for that,” he said in a teasing tone.

  “Do you provide these services only for pregnant women?”

  That drew a laugh from him. “I provide these services only for you.”

  Something about the way he said that filled her with a warm, cozy sense of security that, if she were being truthful, she’d never felt with Justin.

  When Owen lowered her to the bed, she kept her arms around his neck. The position put his face very close to hers. Laura zeroed in on his lips. “Will you stay awhile?”

  “Oh, um, sure.” He pulled back from her and straightened to kick off his shoes.

  “Only if you want to.”

  As he stretched out next to her on the bed, he reached for her hand and linked their fingers. “Of course I want to.”

  The bleat of a foghorn and the crashing waves against the South Harbor breakwater were the only sounds in the otherwise quiet night.

  “This is a very odd situation we find ourselves in,” Laura said after a long period of companionable silence.

  “You could certainly say that,” Owen said with a chuckle.

  “I want you to know… I’d understand if you decided to leave. I know you have to work and—”

  “I don’t have to work.”

  “You don’t?”

  He turned his head and met her gaze. “Remember when I told you that living the way I do is pretty cheap?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ve socked away most of what I’ve earned over the years. I could safely take a couple of years off if I wanted to.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me, Princess?”

  “No! Of course not!”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want to be in your hair if you don’t want me there.”

  “Owen, come on… I want you there.”

  “Why do I hear a ‘but’?”

  Laura rolled her bottom lip between her teeth as she tried to find the words.

  “Laura? What’s on your mind?”

  “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way.”

  “You can say anything you want to me. You should know that by now.”

  She did know that, and it was one of the things she loved about being with him. “I’m getting attached to you.”

  “Is that right?” A satisfied grin stretched across his face. “Then my campaign is working.”

  “Is that what this is? A campaign?”

  He brought their joined hands to his lips. “I’m campaigning for a spot in your life, Princess.”

  “What spot would you like to apply for?”

  His lips moved from her hand to the inside of her wrist. “The most important one.”

  She wondered if her pulse point was clueing him in to the rapid beat of her heart. Her mouth was suddenly dry and the palms of her hands damp. “Well,” she said, attempting a playful tone, “there’s a long list of qualifications for that position.”

  He added a touch of tongue to the sensitive skin on her inner arm, sending a sharp arrow of desire spearing through her that landed in a throb between her legs. “Name them.”

  She pulled her hand free. “I can’t think when you’re doing that.”

  “My apologies,” he said, propping his head on one hand. His eyes were full of mischief as he waited for her.

  Laura wished she possessed the quick wit to make her list of requirements funny and lighthearted, but nothing about this was lighthearted. Not anymore.

  “Tell me about your qualifications.”

  “First of all,” she said haltingly, “the
candidate must want me and only me. No extracurricular activities allowed.”

  “Done. Next?”

  Unnerved by his intense expression, she couldn’t look away from him. “How do you know you won’t change your mind about that in a couple of months or a year?”

  “I suppose no one ever knows for sure about these things, but all I can tell you is I want to be with you—only you. It’s really that simple.”

  “What do I do, after I take a big chance on you, if you decide you’d rather be somewhere else?”

  He reached out to comb his fingers through her hair in a gentle caress that turned sensuous when his fingertips slid over her jaw and down her neck. “I wish I could assure you there’s no chance of that happening, but I can’t. I’ve been on the move my entire adult life, from one place to the next with no thought of the future or anything past the next gig.” Leaning in, he kissed her forehead, her nose and then her lips. “Since I met you, I’m thinking about the future for the first time.”

  Seduced by his words and the emotion she heard behind them, Laura rested a hand on his hip. When he drew her in closer to him, she put her arm around him, tipping her face into his kiss.

  “I know I’m not the best risk,” he said between sweet kisses, “especially after what you’ve been through, but I care about you, Laura. I want to take a chance on us, but I’ll understand if I’m not what you want.”

  “You are what I want. I’m just…”

  “What, baby?”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Of what?”

  “That I’ll take this huge leap of faith with you, and you’ll stay because you said you would, not because it’s where you really want to be.”

  He snuggled her in tight against him, keeping his lips on her forehead as his fingers continued to slide through her hair. “When I wake up in the morning, usually quite early even after a late gig, I lie in bed and look up at the ceiling wishing I was up here with you. I picture your gorgeous face and all your hundreds of expressions and how much I like to watch you sleep when you conk out on me. Sometimes, when I’m really lucky, I can smell your scent clinging to me because you hugged me the night before. I lie there wondering how long I have to wait until you come downstairs, all fresh-faced and pretty, full of excitement over whatever job you’ve got planned for the day. I want to hear how you slept, how you feel, if the baby is moving. I want to make sure you eat enough for both of you. I think about what we should do for dinner and if we might have time for a walk on the beach or if it’s too chilly for you.”

  Laura barely took a breath as she listened to him.

  “At night, after we’ve spent the entire day together, I go to bed and burn for you. I want to hold you and kiss you and make love to you and sleep with you in my arms. I want to feel your soft skin next to mine and have your hair tickling my face when I’m trying to sleep. I want to know the second you wake up, and I want my face to be the first thing you see every day.”

  All at once, Laura realized tears were rolling down her cheeks. “Owen…” She’d never in her life been more touched—or seduced.

  “Now tell me, how in the world will I get all that if I’m not here with you?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, wiping her face.

  “No one knows anything for sure, Princess. All I know is I’m exactly where I want to be right now. I can no longer imagine a day without you in it. That’s got to count for something, right?”

  Despite all her worries, Laura decided she’d rather have a few months or a year with him than a lifetime with anyone else. “All right. You’ve convinced me. The job is yours for as long as you want it.”

  “Oh yay. Does this mean we’re going steady?”

  Laura laughed through her tears. “I guess it does.”

  “I’ll do my very best not to let you down.”

  “I can’t ask for much more than that.”

  He brushed the dampness from her face and cupped her cheek with his big hand. For a long, breathless moment, he looked into her eyes before touching his lips to hers.

  Laura curled her hand around his neck and let go of the worry and the fear and gave in to the desire.

  As if he sensed her capitulation, he tipped his head to delve deeper, teasing and flirting with his tongue until she opened to allow him in.

  A low groan rumbled through him as he feasted on her as if he’d been starving for her.

  Suddenly, Laura wanted to touch him everywhere. Her hands moved over his back, almost frantic in the quest for more of him. She found the hem of his T-shirt and pushed it up, flush with desire when her palms encountered warm, smooth skin.

  Owen tore his lips free and let his head fall back.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, surprised by his reaction.

  “I’m way better than okay.” He opened his eyes and kissed her softly, sweetly. “Feels so good to have you touch me. Finally.”

  “I wouldn’t mind if you returned the favor,” she said with a shy smile. Heat flooded her face, making her burn from the inside.

  He traced a finger over her cheekbone. “I love the way you blush.”

  “It’s so embarrassing. I’ve always hated it and gone out of my way to avoid saying or doing anything that would make it happen.”

  “Apparently, you’re not worried about that anymore.”

  “Not with you.”

  “Good,” he said. “I don’t want you to ever worry about saying or doing the wrong thing with me. You hear me?”

  “I hear you, and I want the same from you.”

  “You got it, Princess.” His kisses were urgent, as if he was trying to make up for all the time they’d kept their distance. He kissed her as if he’d never get enough.

  When Laura removed her hands from his back, he let out a tortured-sounding moan. “Take it off,” she said, tugging at the T-shirt.

  “Only if you do the same.”

  “Deal.”

  They disentangled only long enough to remove their shirts.

  As his shirt cleared his head, Owen reached for her. He nuzzled his nose into the curve of her neck, which made her nipples pebble. “Your skin is so soft. So, so soft.”

  She squeezed her thighs together as the throb became harder to ignore.

  He ran a finger down her neck to her chest, stopping at the front clasp to her bra. “Can we lose this, too?”

  “Why not?”

  His eyes lit up with boyish glee that made her giggle. He was so cute and so damned sexy, especially when he looked at her as if he wanted to have his wicked way with her. As he released the front clasp and pushed the cups aside, he said, “Do you suppose Stephanie has told the whole island that she caught us making out?”

  “Maybe not the whole island. I’m sure she told Grant and Grace and probably Evan.”

  “We’ll be in for it,” he said as he kissed the slope of one breast while cupping the other.

  “Do we care?”

  “I sure as hell don’t. Do you?”

  “No, not really…”

  He raised his head to make eye contact. “What?”

  “I wonder if people will think I’m kind of slutty.”

  His face went slack with shock. “What? What the heck do you mean by that?”

  “I married someone else in May. I’m pregnant with his baby but making out with you in October. It all happened kind of fast.”

  “It didn’t feel fast to me.” He rolled her extra-sensitive nipples between his fingers, drawing a gasp of pleasure from her. “It felt like pure torture, wanting you for weeks and weeks while having to keep my hands to myself.”

  Damn if that didn’t make her blush again. Laura hated being the source of gossip. As Judge Frank McCarthy’s daughter, she’d gone out of her way to lead an exemplary life and to stay below the radar so nothing she did would ever embarrass her father. Until her husband’s post-marriage dating escapades, she’d never given anyone cause to gossip about her. “Still, people might talk.”

  “I
don’t think they will,” Owen said. “The people who matter know what happened with your husband, and our friends know we’ve been hanging out for a while now.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “No one who knows you would ever think you were slutty.”

  She buried her fingers in his hair and tugged gently but insistently, bringing his attention back to her breasts and tilting her hips to press against his erection. “Maybe I want you to think I am.”

  All the air seemed to leave him in one big exhale. “Jesus,” he muttered. “You never cease to surprise me. Please, by all means, be as slutty as you want with me. You’ll never hear me object.”

  Laura laughed, thrilled with him and by him. Her laughter turned to moans when he zeroed in on her nipple, licking and sucking and rolling it between his teeth. Thanks to the pregnancy, her breasts were insanely sensitive, and the pressure between her legs continued to grow.

  He seemed to know what she needed without her having to tell him. Shifting so he was cradled between her legs, he pushed against her, simulating intercourse as he continued to worship her breasts.

  Even though he was driving her out of her mind, she still noticed he was careful to keep his weight off her abdomen. That he thought of her child, even in the midst of runaway passion, was another reason to love him.

  She massaged her way from his shoulders to his waist, hesitating for a moment before she let her fingers wander inside his jeans.

  He sucked in a sharp deep breath. “God, Laura, I want you so bad.” Slowing the pace, he kept up the insistent press of his erection as he sucked hard on her nipple.

  The combination had her crying out as the orgasm overtook her, leaving her quivering, pulsating and panting afterward.

  “Wow,” he said reverently. “That didn’t take much.”

  Laura released an unsteady laugh. “I think it’s the pregnancy hormones. It’s not usually that easy.” Even though she was sort of embarrassed by her unbridled reaction, she forced her eyes up to meet his. “Or maybe it’s you and the way you make me feel.”

  “And how is that?”

  “Safe, comfortable, amused, frustrated—”

  His brows knitted. “Why frustrated?”

  “You’re not the only one who’s been trying to keep his hands to himself the last few weeks.”

 

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