Chapter 17
With his lips still fused to hers, Grant stood and carried her to the bedroom. “You have to be exhausted.”
Stephanie kept her arms linked around his neck and drew him down with her onto the bed. “Not completely,” she said, infusing her tone with a dash of coyness. Her heart beat fast as she waited in the pitch dark to see what he would do.
“Hold that thought.” He left her with a kiss and got up to light the candles on the bedside table. As he tugged off his shirt, he kept his gaze fixed on her. Leaving his jeans on, he stretched out next to her and propped his head on his hand. With his free hand, he reached for her.
Stephanie turned into him, absorbing his appealingly familiar scent and the soft brush of his chest hair against her face. He’d given her so much by listening to her story and providing the perfect amount of outrage. “I’ve never told anyone all of it before.”
“I’m honored that you told me.”
As she focused her lips on his collarbone, his hand ventured under her sweater.
“Your skin is so soft. It’s like silk.”
“It’s the one good thing I got from my mother.”
He pushed her sweater up as he explored her back.
Stephanie took the hint and pulled it off.
“I love that you don’t believe in bras,” he said as he dipped his head to lave at her nipple.
She arched into him, grasping a handful of his dark hair. “I don’t have much need for them.”
“You’ve got more than enough to make me happy.”
She smiled at the compliment as she watched him feast upon her small breasts. “Feels good,” she said, squirming against him, looking for more.
He raised his head to focus on her lips. “I want to make you forget,” he said between kisses. “Just for a little while. Will you let me?”
Stephanie’s heart ached in her chest as she stared at his arrestingly handsome face. God, I’ve gone and done it. I love him.
“Steph? Are you okay?”
Biting back the swell of panic that seized her, she said, “Make me forget.”
His sweet kisses became hot and ravenous. His tongue was persuasive as it dueled with hers.
The realization that she loved him made everything about this more than it had been before.
This is love, she thought, astounded to think that only a couple of hours ago, she’d been convinced that one more night with him would be enough.
Now it was clear that a lifetime of nights with him wouldn’t be enough.
He broke the kiss and gazed down at her, an odd combination of befuddlement and desire in his expression. Something had changed for him, too, and he clearly had no idea what to make of it, which provided her a measure of comfort.
Stephanie placed her hands on his face and urged him into another carnal kiss. She was under no illusions that their relationship would last beyond the end of summer, so she was determined to enjoy every minute they had together before they went their separate ways.
She pulled on the button to his jeans until it gave way and then pushed her hand into his boxers.
He let out a gasp when her fingers encircled his erection. She loved listening to him moan with pleasure as she stroked him.
The next thing she knew, he’d removed their jeans and was rolling on a condom. “Turn over,” he said.
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
His insistent tone stirred a flurry of nerves in her belly as she did what he requested.
His hands traveled from her shoulders to her hips and then back up as he used his knees to push her legs farther apart. He brought his hands to her bottom, kneading and caressing until she was half-crazy with desire.
“Grant . . .”
“What, honey?”
She lifted her backside into his embrace. “Now.”
“Patience.”
“I don’t have any.”
Laughing, he bent his head and bit her left cheek—hard.
Stephanie cried out as an orgasm took her by surprise, rocketing through her in a streak of heat and energy.
When she came back down from the high, she discovered her hands were gripping the sheets, and he had positioned her on her knees to receive him.
The blunt head of his cock nudged at her sensitive opening, teasing and tempting.
She pushed back, urging him to take her, but he wouldn’t be rushed.
By the time he finally slid into her from behind, he had her hovering on the brink of yet another release. He squeezed her ass so hard she was certain there’d be bruises, not that she cared. She was glad he couldn’t see her face, so he wouldn’t know that he’d undone her defenses.
He suddenly withdrew from her. “Turn over,” he said, his voice husky.
Even though she was wary of showing him too much, she did as he asked.
He slid his hands under her and held her close to him. “Hold on to me,” he said, kissing her softly as he entered her again. “I’ve got you.”
Overwhelmed by the way he looked at her as well as his sweet words, Stephanie wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight.
“That’s it,” he said. “You can count on me, Steph. I won’t let you down.”
Did he have any idea how much those words meant to her? She bit her lip to keep from bawling her head off and buried her face in the curve of his neck. The scent of plain old soap had never been so appealing.
As she tasted his skin, he picked up the pace.
“Come for me, baby.” He slipped a hand between them to coax her.
The instant his finger made contact with her clit, she erupted with a scream that was met with barking from the dogs across the hall.
Grant laughed his way through his own climax and collapsed on top of her.
“The natives are restless,” Stephanie said, running a hand over his back.
His hair was soft against her face, his whiskers rough against her chest. She wanted to keep him right there forever.
But then she remembered that while he’d been kind and loving to her, he wasn’t hers to keep.
With self-preservation in mind, she released her tight hold on him.
Rather than roll off her as she’d expected, he kissed his way down the front of her, reigniting the insatiable desire.
“Grant . . .”
“Shh,” he said, focusing on her belly.
Helpless to resist him, Stephanie let her hands fall to her sides and gave herself over to him, hoping she’d find the wherewithal to let him go when the time came.
Owen couldn’t remember when he’d last enjoyed a rainy day so much.
Coffee had turned into soup and then a spirited game of Monopoly in which he’d lost his shirt to the deceptively shrewd Laura McCarthy.
He’d gotten a kick out of watching her elation as she collected an obscene number of hotels and houses while racking up a huge chunk of cash.
Earlier in the day, they’d spent a few hours cleaning the manager’s apartment she would occupy on the third floor, and he’d helped her move her belongings there from her aunt and uncle’s house.
“That’s it,” Owen said, tossing his last five dollars onto the board. “You’ve bankrupted me and crushed my spirit. I’m a shell of my former self.”
She hooted with laughter. “You can’t fool me. I know you’ve got all that money stashed away from skipping the married-with-children phase.”
“I never should’ve told you that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. I’ll use it against you forever.”
“Promise?” he asked with a flirtatious grin that made her blush. While her cousin Janey was petite and adorable, Laura was all cool, blonde beauty with an inner warmth that saved her from being untouchable.
“Now you’re just being silly.”
“It’s kind of fun to be silly, isn’t it?”
She thought about that for a second. “Yes, it is.”
He watched her sort and order the play money so that each bill faced the same direction. “I much prefer you silly to sad, Princess.”
“I rather prefer it myself.”
“Why is it so important that all the bills face the same direction?”
“I don’t know. It just is.”
Left to his own devices, Owen would’ve tossed the money and cards in the box and shoved the game back on the shelf. He was fine leaving the sorting to the next person who played the game.
“Do you require that level of order in all things or just Monopoly money?” He couldn’t say why he wanted to know, but for some reason he did.
“Pretty much everything, which is why what happened . . . with my husband . . . really rocked me.” She got busy arranging the Chance and Community Chest cards.
Owen turned a chair around and sat facing her, wondering if the property cards would be put into color order next. “It went against your plan.”
She nodded, and sure enough, she started organizing the cards by color.
Owen took her hand to stop her. “You can’t plan everything, Princess.”
“So I’ve discovered.”
“It doesn’t mean anything is wrong with you.”
“There must be something wrong with me if my husband was cheating before the ink was dry on our marriage license.”
Owen linked their fingers and resisted the urge to bring her hand to his lips.
It was a move he’d used hundreds of times in the past, usually with outstanding results.
For some reason, it seemed oddly inappropriate to trot out his usual moves with Laura.
“I hate to hear you say there’s something wrong with you. This one is all on him.”
“See, I know that. Really, I do. He made a choice to cheat. It had nothing to do with me, but yet . . .”
“It had everything to do with you.”
She rolled her lip between her teeth and nodded.
With his free hand, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “He messed with your plan.”
“That’s the part that really pisses me off.”
She was so damned cute, he couldn’t resist laughing, even though he suspected it would make her mad. “The lying and the cheating didn’t make you mad, but messing with your plan . . .”
“Infuriating,” she said with a self-deprecating smile.
Owen reached for her meticulous piles and swirled them into chaos. “Maybe it’s time to shake things up a little.”
She tugged her hand free from his hold and messed the cards up some more, which pleased him.
“There, now doesn’t that feel good?” he asked.
“Actually, it does.”
Owen scooped the mess of cards and money into the box and put the lid on. “Someone else’s problem.”
She flashed him a winning grin that made his heart sing.
“Tell me the truth—will you sneak down here some night when you’re here by yourself and fix it?” he asked.
“I will not, and I resent the implication. This is the new me.” She got up and twirled around with her arms over her head.
Owen made an effort to focus on her face and not the tantalizing view of spectacular breasts. “Easy, tiger, or you’ll sprain something.”
As she stuck her tongue out at him, a knock on the window startled them.
Two faces appeared in the window that looked out on the porch. Evan and Adam wore pleading expressions and held up six-packs of beer.
Laughing, Owen got up to let them into the small suite of rooms he kept at the hotel. “What’re you two fools up to?”
“Linda is driving us nuts,” Evan said. He pulled off his foul-weather coat and hung it on the door. “To her, a slow-moving tropical storm is an opportunity to pump us for every ounce of information about our love lives that she can suck from our bone marrow.”
Adam cracked open a beer and handed it to Owen before opening another for himself. He offered one to Laura, but she shook her head. “Dodging Voodoo Mama gets exhausting.”
Laura’s delicate laugh rang through the room, warming Owen all the way through. What was that all about?
“Remember how mad she used to get when you guys called her that?” Laura said.
“Ev found out earlier that she still gets mad when we call her that,” Adam said with a sly grin that earned him a punch in the arm from his brother.
“Why don’t you tell her what she wants to know and be done with it?” Laura asked her cousins.
Adam stared at her, an expression of horror marking his face. He was a younger, shorter, equally handsome version of his brother Mac. “Because.”
“Oh,” Laura said. “Of course. I get it now. Thanks for clarifying.”
Owen laughed at her dry delivery and gestured for the new arrivals to help themselves to the chips and salsa on the table.
“Because,” Evan said, stuffing a chip loaded with salsa into his mouth, “if we give her anything, even the slightest mention of a possible girlfriend, she’s planning the wedding ten minutes later.”
“Especially since Mac and Janey screwed everything up by getting married,” Adam said. “Now she wants us all shackled and domesticated. No, thank you.”
Owen clinked his bottle against Adam’s. “With you there, my brother.”
“First Mac, then you, Laura, then Janey and Joe, then Luke and now Grant.” Evan shook his head. “It’s a world gone mad, I tell you.”
“What’s up with Grant?” Owen asked, noting the hint of sadness that crossed Laura’s face when her cousin mentioned her marriage. “Did he get back with Abby?”
“Nope,” Evan said with a salacious glint in his eye.
“From what I hear, he’s hot and heavy with Stephanie over at Janey’s place.
Apparently, the two of them have been joined at the hip and fighting like cats and dogs for weeks while they worked at the marina.
Looks like the fighting was actually foreplay—or so we suspect.
Ned’s taking bets on how long it’ll be before they’re engaged. ”
“Interesting,” Owen said. “I thought he was all about getting Abby back.”
“He was when he first got here, but now it seems someone else has his full attention.”
“I love how Stephanie cuts him right down to size,” Adam said with a wicked grin.
“Calls him on his bullshit,” Evan added.
They clinked bottles in solidarity against their older brother. “It’s about time someone brought the high-and-mighty Grant McCarthy back down to earth where the rest of us live.”
“You guys,” Laura said, smirking at the three of them.
“What?” Adam asked.
“Just wait until it happens to you. I want to be around to see that.”
“I hope you’re planning a long-ass wait, Cousin,” Evan said. “I’ve got things and women to do before that happens.” He jiggled his hips suggestively. “Lots and lots of women.”
Adam nodded in agreement. “What he said. Every word.”
All eyes turned to Owen. “What?” he asked. “Don’t look at me.” He tugged at the neck of his shirt. “You can’t put a collar on me. I’d die.”
Evan and Adam dissolved into laughter along with Owen, but when he recovered from the outburst, he found Laura watching him with that strangely intuitive thing she did so well—as if she knew something he didn’t.
As he studied her elegantly beautiful face, he decided he was better off not knowing what she was thinking. Definitely better off.