Longing for Love Page 9

  Kara took the dollar bill from the man sitting closest to her, realizing everyone on the boat was intrigued by the exchange. Great. That only made her dislike him more than she already did.

  She made the mistake of looking at him, which was how she caught the smirk he directed her way. Biting back a growl of frustration, she released the lines and backed the launch out of the slip.

  Grace had just gotten home from the pharmacy when someone knocked on the door. Since she’d seen her parents off on the first ferry that morning, she knew it wasn’t them. She swung open the door to find Seamus O’Grady on her deck.

  Grace pushed open the screen door to let him in. “Hi, Seamus. This is a nice surprise.”

  “Hello, Gracie, my love.” His thick Irish brogue always gave Grace a shiver of delight, not that she’d ever admit that to Evan, who was terribly jealous of the attention Seamus paid her. He gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “What brings you by?” she asked as she led him into the loft.

  “I need a friend,” Seamus said with a deep sigh that had Grace spinning around to study his handsome face. The Seamus she knew was never down or dour. He was perpetually cheerful and unfailingly charming. His auburn hair was unusually mussed and his jaw scruffy with whiskers. On closer inspection, she noticed his green eyes were rimmed with red, as if he hadn’t been sleeping well.

  “What is it?” She took his hand and led him to sit with her on the sofa. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve done an awful thing.”

  Grace eyed him warily. “What awful thing have you done?”

  “I’ve fallen in love, Gracie.”

  She stared at him, astounded. “You’ve… With whom?”

  “Someone who doesn’t want me.”

  “Wait a minute… Are you trying to tell me that you’ve met a woman—a living, breathing, woman—who doesn’t want you? What the heck is wrong with her?”

  That brought a faint smile to his lips. “Ahhh, Gracie. You’re good for what ails me, love.” He squeezed her hand. “There’s nothing wrong with her. That’s the problem. Everything about her is right. She’s all I think about. Sometimes I wonder if it’s possible to expire from the agony of wanting something I can’t have.”

  The despair she heard in his voice touched her deeply. How would it feel, she wondered, to want Evan with every fiber of her being but not be able to have him? It didn’t bear thinking about. “Why can’t you have her, Seamus?”

  “She’s older than me and can’t get past that obstacle. Among other things.”

  “What other things?”

  “I work for her son, for one thing.”

  Grace’s eyes bugged out of her head. “Joe’s mother?”

  “Shhh, don’t say it out loud. No one knows. No one.”

  “Start at the beginning. Don’t leave anything out. I want every detail.”

  “I probably shouldn’t…”

  “You’ll feel better when you tell someone. Tell me. Maybe I can help.”

  “You can’t tell anyone, Grace. I mean it. Not even Evan.”

  “I won’t breathe a word of it. I promise.”

  As Seamus haltingly conveyed the story of the unforgettable night he’d spent with Carolina Cantrell, his voice was soft and his eyes full of emotion that made Grace ache for him.

  “You haven’t seen her since Luke and Syd’s wedding?”

  He shook his head. “It’s killing me, Gracie,” he whispered. “I can’t sleep or eat. I can’t think about anything but how much I want to be with her.”

  “Have you thought about telling her that?”

  “What good would it do? She looks at me and sees a man roughly the same age as her son. I’ll always be a couple of years older than him, so that puts me permanently off limits to her.”

  “That’s so ridiculous! If two people love each other and want to be together, what difference does it make if there’re a few years between them?”

  “If only her thinking was like yours, we wouldn’t be needing this conversation. What am I to do? Now that I know she’s out there and what it’s like to hold her and kiss her and…” He dropped his head into his hands. “I can’t bear it. Sometimes I think I’ll have to give notice and leave this job I love, because it’s too hard to know she’s right here on the island but as far away from me as it’s possible to get.”

  Grace put a comforting arm around him, which was how Evan found them a few minutes later when he came in the door, stopping short at the sight of Grace and Seamus sitting close to each other on the sofa. His smile faded, and his eyes went dark with fury. “What’s going on?”

  “Seamus is having a rough day and needed a friend,” Grace said, shooting her boyfriend a warning look.

  “Is that so?”

  “I should go,” Seamus said, straightening.

  “Don’t go,” Grace said. “Stay and have dinner. You’ll feel better to be around friends.”

  “You’re a love, Gracie, but there’s only one thing that’ll make me feel better, and it’s not to be.” He kissed her forehead, squeezed her hand and released it. “Thanks for listening.”

  “Any time. Will you let me know how you’re doing?”

  “I will, love.” To Evan, he said, “Thank you for letting me borrow your lady for a few minutes. You’re a lucky man.”

  “I know.”

  This was said in a tone Grace had never heard before from Evan. Her stomach began to hurt.

  “You folks have a nice evening,” Seamus said on his way out the door.

  “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” Evan said when they were alone.

  Clearly, he was spoiling for a fight, and Grace was in no mood. “Not really.”

  “How would you feel if you came home and found me snuggled up to some woman?”

  “We weren’t snuggled up, and he’s not some guy. He’s my friend.”

  “A friend who’s interested in being much more than friends with you.”

  “You are such an idiot sometimes, you know that?”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “He was here talking to me about a woman he’s in love with, and her name is not Grace.”

  “Oh.”

  “You can apologize any time now.”

  “Apologize for what?”

  “Implying I was fooling around on you.”

  “I didn’t imply that.”

  She raised an eyebrow to let him know she wasn’t buying his crap. “Oh no? What would you call it then?”

  “I don’t know.” He flopped down on the sofa. “Why are we fighting?”

  “Because you acted like a jealous fool when I had a male friend here.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “I overreacted, but that guy pushes my buttons with all his Irish blarney.”

  “I think you mean Irish charm,” Grace said, sitting next to him and reaching for his hand.

  Evan scowled at her.

  “Are you still mad at me?”

  He shrugged.

  Grace moved so she was straddling him and framed his face with her hands. “Look at me.” When she had his full attention, she bent her head to kiss him. “I love you, you silly, jealous fool. Only you.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then why do you still look all funny in the face?”

  “I’ve been thinking…”

  “About?”

  “I want to understand why you didn’t tell your parents about me, and I think I get it, but still…”

  “Still what?”

  “Is it because my job situation is up in the air right now? Is that why you didn’t tell them? Because I’d understand if that was why—”

  “No! That has nothing to do with it. I swear to you, I didn’t tell them because of stuff between us. Not because of anything to do with you.”

  “What did they say when I wasn’t around?”

  Grace diverted her gaze. “Not
much.”

  He cuffed her chin. “Liar.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Evan. They’ve got nothing to do with us. That’s why I didn’t tell them.”

  “They’re your parents, honey. You can’t disregard them like they mean nothing to you.”

  “You heard what my mother said the other day about there being other ways to lose weight besides going under the knife?”

  “Yes, and I didn’t think she needed to say that.”

  “It’s the least of what she’s had to say since I decided to have the surgery. Who knew better than she did how I tried every other possible way to lose weight before I opted for surgery? Yet she made me feel like a loser for doing it. She’s still making me feel like a loser.”

  “Probably because she doesn’t have the courage to do it herself.”

  “You think so?”

  Nodding, he said, “She’s probably jealous that it worked so well for you and you’ve lost so much weight. How long has she been heavy?”

  “Always.”

  “There you have it. You’ve managed to successfully address a situation she’s grappled with her whole life.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Sometimes I wonder why she can’t be happy for me, you know?”

  “Don’t let her—or anyone—take away from your accomplishments, Grace. You have a lot to be proud of.”

  “Do you know what I’m proudest of?”

  “What’s that?”

  “You and me. We’ve come a long way in the last eight months. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

  “Same here, honey. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, and I’m sorry I overreacted about Seamus being here.”

  Grace leaned her forehead against his. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell my parents about us.”

  “It’s okay. I have a few thoughts about how you can make it up to me.”

  “What kind of thoughts?”

  As Evan whispered in her ear, Grace felt her face get hot. Would she ever get used to the blunt way he talked about highly personal matters?

  “Right now?” she asked.

  “Uh-huh.” He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. “Unless, of course, you’re not really all that sorry. In that case—”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “Shut me up.”

  “Gladly.” As Grace poured all the love she felt for him into a kiss for the ages, she counted herself lucky to have found the one who was meant for her. Seamus’s woes made her extra grateful that Evan loved her as much as she loved him.

  Since he had an hour before he was due to captain the next boat, Seamus took his time walking back to town. He felt bad about the scene at Grace’s place. It was no secret that Evan McCarthy didn’t like him or the attention he paid to Grace. But they were just friends. Gracie’s heart belonged to Evan, and Seamus’s heart belonged to a woman who didn’t want him. What a fine mess this had turned out to be.

  His boss, Joe Cantrell, was due in on the boat coming now from the mainland, and when he had the chance to talk to Joe, Seamus was seriously considering resigning as manager of the Gansett Island Ferry Company. Joe would have the summer to find a replacement before he and his wife returned to Ohio for her third year of veterinary school. Seamus hated to leave Joe in the lurch, especially with Joe’s wife Janey due to deliver their first child soon, but it was too hard to be on the island a few miles from the woman he loved but light years from her.

  The fact that the woman he loved was Joe’s mother only made things more complicated in some ways and simpler in others. He couldn’t pine for the mother of his boss, and he couldn’t have her because she couldn’t handle the age difference between them—or her son’s potential disapproval.

  If this were happening to someone else, Seamus might’ve found it comical. But there was nothing funny about this kind of heartache. For the first time in the more than two decades since he’d come to this country as a teenager, he was thinking about going home to Ireland. Nothing here made sense anymore. One night with Carolina Cantrell and his entire life had careened off course like a car that lost a wheel on a curve.

  He had a posse of sisters, so he’d certainly witnessed heartbreak before. However, he’d learned it was an entirely different experience when it happened to you. It sucked the life out of a body. It kept you awake at night, thinking about what might’ve been. It made it nearly impossible to enjoy any of the simple pleasures that used to make life worth living. Food didn’t taste the way it used to. Even his favorite Irish whiskey didn’t appeal. He was a wreck, and he couldn’t continue to function in this condition. Thus his conclusion that the only possible solution was to leave.

  Walking with his hands in his pockets and his head down, Seamus approached the ferry landing deep in thought, which was why he didn’t see the object of his desire leaning against a piling waiting for the boat that carried her son and daughter-in-law to arrive. He didn’t see her until he was nearly on top of her, until it was far too late to avoid seeing her for the first time since Luke and Syd’s Christmas Eve wedding.

  When he recovered his senses, he realized she looked even better than she had then. She’d cut her hair, and the shoulder-length style suited her. Ironically, it made her look younger. For some reason, it pleased him that she seemed as stunned to see him as he was to see her.

  “I, um…” she said. “Joe and Janey…”

  “They’re on the boat.” He nodded to the ferry approaching the breakwater. “Word tends to get out when the boss makes a car reservation.”

  “Yes, I suppose it does.”

  “How’ve you been, Caro?”

  “Oh, well, busy. You know.”

  “Did you make that?” he asked of the elaborately beaded necklace she wore.

  When her fingers covered the beads, he noticed a slight tremble. “This? Yes, a while ago.”

  “It’s quite lovely.” He kept his gaze fixed on her face as he said the words, and watched, mesmerized, as a flush crept into her cheeks.

  Realizing he was getting to her, he decided to try one last time. Maybe the passage of months had had the same effect on her. “I’ve missed you, Caro.”

  As he watched her process what he’d said, she glanced at the ferry and smiled.

  Realizing the moment between them had passed, Seamus followed her gaze and saw Joe at the aft controls, guiding the ferry into port. “Just like riding a bike,” Seamus said with feigned lightness.

  “He’s been a natural from the time he was a young boy. My father went on and on about how he’d had to show him only once, and he got it. He just got it.”

  Listening to her talk about her son, Seamus finally got it, too. She’d made her choice a long time ago. She’d chosen her son, and nothing he said or did would ever change her mind. It was time to cut his losses and move on.

  “Nice to see you, Carolina.”

  “Nice to see you, too.”

  “Have a lovely visit with your son and his wife.

  Walking away from her, Seamus ached worse than he had before, if that was possible. But at least he had his answer now. He knew what he had to do.

  Chapter 8

  Hoping to run into Tiffany, Blaine accepted Mac’s invitation to stop by for dinner. The family was welcoming Joe and Janey home for the summer with a cookout that included all the McCarthys, Ned and Francine, and Joe’s mom, Carolina. When he arrived, Blaine couldn’t believe how disappointed he was to learn that Tiffany had stayed home because Ashleigh had a stomachache. He couldn’t wait to see her after his shift.

  “Are you enjoying the last few weeks of sanity?” Big Mac asked Blaine over burgers on Mac’s deck. Because he was on duty, Blaine was nursing a soda rather than the beer he’d prefer.

  “It seems to start earlier and earlier every year,” Blaine said. “We’ve already had a couple of kids with alcohol poisoning on the town beach and lots of open container citations. Wyatt, my newest patrolman, stumbled upon a couple of kids getting busy out at the bluffs tw
o nights ago. I think he’s scarred for life.”

  Big Mac roared with laughter. “Poor kid.”

  “He may as well get used to it. Such is police work on Gansett Island.”

  Joe came over to shake hands with Blaine. “Good to see you, buddy.”

  “You too. Congrats on the impending arrival.”

  Joe glanced over at his pretty blonde wife, who was hugely pregnant and clearly miserable. “Not sure how we’ll survive three more months. Janey’s already had enough of being pregnant.”

  Blaine’s radio crackled with a call from dispatch. He winced when he heard the address. “I’ve got to run,” he said to Mac, who was tending the grill. “Thanks for the burger.”

  “Any time. Come back later if you’re free.”

  “Will do. Thanks, Maddie.”

  “See you later, Blaine.”

  He bounded down the stairs from the deck to his SUV. When he reached the main road, he flipped on the lights and siren while calling for backup. Daisy Babson’s neighbors had called the police. Again. Anxious to get to town before Daisy’s abusive boyfriend could hurt her, Blaine pressed the accelerator to the floor.

  By the time he pulled up to Daisy’s rundown place in town, the neighbors were standing outside, listening to the fight rage on inside.

  “Back it up, folks,” Blaine said. “Give us some room.” The sound of breaking glass had Blaine taking the stairs two at a time. He pounded on the door. “Police. Open up.” More crashing of glass and other items, along with thumping and a muffled cry. “Open up, or I’ll take the door down.”

  Wyatt pulled up in his cruiser, and Blaine gestured for him to hurry. When the patrolman was in position on the other side of the door, Blaine drew his weapon and kicked in the door. Daisy was huddled on the floor, surrounded by broken glass, her face and hands bleeding. She looked up at him with big, haunted gray eyes. Her boyfriend, Truck—aptly nicknamed because he was built like one—held a glass vase over his head. His tattooed biceps bulged from the effort to restrain his rage. If he brought that vase down on petite Daisy, he’d kill her.

  “Freeze, Truck.” Blaine had gotten there just in time. “Don’t even think about it.”