Chapter 2
Grace was surprised to discover that the singer with the Patrick Dempsey hair was even more handsome up close. She wiped frantically at the dampness on her face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brows knitting with concern.
The last thing she wanted was to unburden herself to another guy who probably had his pick of women. She was done with gods. A regular mere mortal was what she wanted now. A nice nerdy guy would do just fine.
“Nothing.” Extending a hand under the table, she reached for her purse before she remembered she didn’t have her purse. Trey had taken it.
“Wait,” he said when she started to rise. “Whatever it is, I might be able to help.”
“You think so?” She couldn’t help the snarky tone.
“I know for sure I can’t help if you don’t tell me what has you so upset.”
Since she hardly had any better options, Grace flopped back into her chair. “Fine. You want to know? Here it is. My boyfriend—no wait, that’s giving him too much credit. My date for the evening left me here alone with no money, no clothes, nowhere to stay.”
He stared at her. “What do you mean he left you?”
“I mean he took off on his fancy boat with all my stuff.” She held up her cell phone. “Except for this, which is of no use to me whatsoever, since anyone who could rescue me is on the mainland.”
“Wow, what an asshole.”
“Ya think?”
He pushed his beer across the table. “You need that more than I do.”
She gratefully reached for the bottle and took a drink. The first sip went down so well, she took a second. “Do you have a name?”
“Evan McCarthy.”
“Any relation?” she asked, gesturing to the marina sign.
“My folks.”
“Nice place.”
“We like it. So where’re you from?”
“Mystic, Connecticut.”
“I like it there. Pretty town.”
“You’re good—at the singing and stuff.”
He flashed a devastating grin, complete with sexy dimples. Life was so unfair. “Gee, thanks.”
“Your friend is getting ready to start again. Shouldn’t you be up there?”
Crooking a rakish eyebrow, he said, “Trying to get rid of me?”
Heat flooded Grace’s face, forcing her to look away from him. “I don’t want to keep you from your work.”
He shrugged. “Owen can cope without me for a bit.” Propping his elbows on the table, he leaned in closer to her. “So what’re we going to do about this dilemma of yours?”
“It’s certainly nothing you need to worry about. I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to do anything about it.”
“Now that I know, I can’t not help you.”
“That’s a double negative,” she said primly and then wanted to shoot herself for sounding like such a prude. Old habits died hard. It occurred to her that, pre-weight-loss, a man like Evan McCarthy never would’ve bothered to speak to her, let alone offer to help her.
His ringing laughter warmed her, even though she knew that being sucked in by yet another smooth-talking charmer wasn’t in her best interest. “Are you a teacher or something?”
“Or something. Pharmacist.”
He screwed his face into a serious expression. “A very smart profession.”
“I guess,” she said with a shrug. “I’m not feeling very smart at the moment.”
“What’s your name?”
“Grace.”
“Nice to meet you, Grace. Here’s what I think we ought to do.
I have another couple of hours to go here, and then I could take you home to my folks’ place up the hill.
My sister’s old room is empty since she’s off on her honeymoon—not that she lives at home anymore.
I’m sure we can find an old T-shirt of hers or something for you to sleep in.
Tomorrow, I’ll get you to the ferry landing so you can catch a ride home. Would that work?”
Grace stared at him, stunned. “I can’t just go home with you.”
“My parents are there,” he said, flashing the dimples again. They were good dimples. Very good dimples. “We’ll be fully chaperoned.”
“That’s not what I mean. I can’t—”
He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. “You’re in a pinch. People on the island help each other out when someone finds themselves in a pinch. It’s really no big deal, okay?”
With the heat of his hand demanding her full attention, Grace was powerless to resist the help he offered so freely. “Thank you,” she said softly.
“No problem.” He squeezed her hand and released it. “I’ll meet you right here when I’m done, okay?”
Since she had absolutely nowhere else to be, she said, “Okay.”
On his way back to join Owen on the stage, Evan stopped one of the waitresses. “See the woman sitting by herself in the corner? Could you keep her in food and drinks for the rest of the night?”
“Sure, Evan, no problem.”
“Put it on my tab.”
“You got it.”
“Thanks.”
Owen, who had started the next set on his own, sent Evan an arch look as he strapped on his guitar and joined in the chorus of “Sister Golden Hair.”
After they played the last notes, Owen stayed at the microphone while he strummed his guitar. “Y’all may not realize it, but we have a real star in our presence.”
While Evan made plans to shoot his friend after the gig, he stole a glance at Grace to find her watching them with interest. He was glad she’d stopped crying.
“The eminent Evan McCarthy, recording star straight from Nashville, Tennessee, is gracing our stage tonight.”
“Shut up,” Evan muttered to Owen as the tableful of women went wild cheering.
“I’m sure that with enough encouragement, Evan might be convinced to share the first single off his new album with us. Waddya say, Ev?”
As the crowd went wild, Evan said, “I say I’m gonna kill you for this,” even though he appreciated the chance to show off one of his new songs.
Owen gestured for him to take center stage.
Evan rolled his eyes, bit back the surge of panic he’d grown accustomed to, then stepped up to the microphone and strummed the opening notes to “Here for You,” the ballad he’d cowritten and hoped would launch his career.
The song was about a couple trying to recover their friendship after a rough breakup.
As he hit the refrain, he again sought out Grace in the crowd and found her watching him, her chin propped on her hands.
While she appeared to be enjoying the music, she still looked so hopelessly sad.
Something about her tugged at him and made him want to make it all better, even though he knew it wasn’t up to him.
It was, however, within his power to make tonight a little better for her.
So for the rest of their set, he sang to her, for her, and in his opinion, he’d never performed better in his life.
“You were awesome tonight, man,” Owen said as they packed up their guitars and enjoyed a beer.
“So were you.” Evan took a drink from his beer. “You got a date tonight?”
“Nah.”
Evan stopped what he was doing to stare at his friend. “Why not?”
Owen shrugged. “Not in the mood.”
Evan reached up to place a hand on Owen’s forehead. “You’re not feverish. Have you seen a doctor lately?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Owen said, laughing. “For your information, I’m tired. I’m going home and going to bed. Alone.”
“Really, I think you need a physical or something. This isn’t like you.”
“I’ll take that under advisement. What’s the plan with Weepy?”
“Don’t call her that. She’s had a rough night. Her asshole boyfriend dumped her here and took off—on a boat—with her purse and all her stuff. She’s truly marooned.”
“Whoa. That sucks. So what’re you going to do?”
“Take her home to Linda. What else?”
Owen laughed. “Dude, she’ll have you two married with four kids by the morning.”
Evan felt like he’d been hit by an electric cattle prod. “Jesus, you’re right. Maybe I can sneak her in and out without Linda ever knowing.”
“You talking about Voodoo Mama? Good luck with that.”
“Oh my God,” Evan moaned. “I promised her a place to stay. I can’t renege now.”
“I’d offer her a room at the Surf,” Owen said, referring to the Sand & Surf, an old hotel in town that his grandparents owned. “But we’re not exactly prepared for guests.” Owen’s grandparents had recently hired Evan’s cousin Laura to renovate and reopen the hotel.
“And of course everything else is sold out this weekend.”
“Looks like it’s either Linda or a tent on the beach.”
Evan actually considered the latter alternative before dismissing it as too impractical. He was way past the point where sand in places sand didn’t belong appealed to him. “Any rumors you may hear in the morning regarding my impending betrothal are not to be believed. Got me?”
Owen snorted beer through his nose and winced from the pain. “Don’t say crap like that without warning me.”
While they were talking, the bar had more or less cleared out, leaving Grace alone in the corner waiting for him. “Well, here goes nothing.”
“Best of luck, my intrepid friend.”
“Bite me.” Evan shouldered his guitar, finished his beer in one big swallow and steeled himself to deal with a devastated woman he barely knew and a calculating woman he knew all too well.
By the time Evan finally made his way over to her, Grace had begun to shiver in the cool breeze blowing in from the salt pond. Along with everything else she’d brought on their trip, Trey had taken her jacket, too.
“Ready?” Evan asked when he reached her table.
Grace’s stomach knotted with nerves, but since her options were limited, she nodded and stood. “Thank you for the drinks and snack.”
“No problem. Are you up for a short walk up a long hill?”
“Sure, that’s fine.”
“So how did someone nice like you end up with a guy who’d ditch you on an island without any of your stuff?”
“That is a very long story.”
“We’ve got nothing but time. First boat off the island isn’t for about eight hours.”
Sighing, she glanced up at a sky polluted with stars.
“It all began in fourth grade when he moved into my neighborhood. I’ve basically been in love with him ever since—or I thought I was until I saw his true colors.
Tonight was our tenth date, and in all the time I spent with him, I never knew . . .”
“What didn’t you know?”
“That he’s an asshole. I nursed a crush on him for decades, and I had no idea that he’s an asshole. How did I miss that?”