Season for Love (18 page)

“Speaking as a reviewer, tell me, what did the trick?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “As if you don’t know.”

“I really don’t.”

In one of her signature moves, she brushed the hair off his forehead and ran her fingers through it lovingly. “The love story of a lifetime was a pretty good line.”

“Just pretty good?”

“Extremely memorable. The security I’ve never had was a close second.”

“I thought you might like that.”

“When you marry a writer, you ought to get a proposal for the ages.”

His eyes went wide at what surely had to be one of the finest compliments he’d ever received. “Is that what this was?”

“Absolutely,” she said, kissing him again.

“How about a marriage for the ages to go with it?”

“I’m all for that. Is this what you had to talk to Charlie about?”

Nodding, he said, “I couldn’t ask you without his blessing.”

“And he gave it?”

“With some assurances.”

That made her snort with laughter. “I hope he made you work for it.”

“Oh, trust me. He did.” His lips found the tender underside of her jaw, one of his favorite places to kiss her. “Steph?”

She tipped her head to give him better access. “Hmm?”

The setting sun cast her skin in a warm glow. “Why didn’t you tell me about the restaurant?”

“I don’t know. I figured I’d get around to it eventually.”

“Are there other things you want that I don’t know about?”

She shook her head. “You covered all the high points in your proposal.”

“I want you to know—I get what you said about how you grew up. Things will be different from now on.”

“Thank you for listening—and for hearing me.”

“Any time I don’t do that, give me a kick in the ass. Promise?”

“Yes,” she said, laughing. “It’ll be my pleasure to kick you in the ass. Can I spank you sometimes to mix things up?”

“Whatever you want, babe.” The suggestion was all it took to get Grant thinking about officially sealing their deal. “Speaking of your pleasure…” He extricated himself from her embrace and stood, offering her a hand up. Drawing her into his arms, he held her tight for a long time before he let her go, slung an arm around her shoulders and directed her to the path. “Let’s go home.”

An hour after they left Point Judith, Owen followed the GPS directions to Providence’s tony East Side, still hoping he was heading to her father’s house. Laura hadn’t stirred once during the ride, and her face remained ghostly pale.

He got his answer about the address when they reached a two-story white colonial with black shutters, nicely trimmed bushes and the name McCarthy on the mailbox. Owen pulled into the driveway and parked next to a silver Cadillac sedan. He tried to decide his next move. Did he wake her up or let her sleep awhile longer? He wanted to let her sleep but didn’t think it was appropriate to sit in her father’s driveway for half an hour without letting him know they were there.

Frank McCarthy solved the problem for him by coming out of the house to greet them.

Owen emerged from the car and stopped short at the sight of Laura’s dad, a shorter version of Big Mac McCarthy. Whereas Big Mac was all rough edges and relaxed cool, Frank was tailored and urbane in a light blue dress shirt, dark dress pants and black wingtips. While Big Mac’s gray hair was often wild and unkempt from the wind that whipped through the docks, Frank’s was combed into a tame style suitable for a courtroom. He wore a concerned look in the blue eyes he shared with his brother, daughter and nephews.
 

“I trust you’re the Owen Lawry I’ve heard so much about,” Frank said as he approached Owen with his hand extended.

While Owen digested the fact that Laura had told her father about him, Owen shook the older man’s hand. “Yes, sir. I can’t believe our paths haven’t crossed before now. I’ve been close to your brother’s family since I was a kid.”

A flash of regret registered on Frank’s face. “I’ve not been able to spend as much time on the island as I would’ve liked to over the years.” He glanced at the car. “Did she get sick? I wondered if she would. The ferry has always made her queasy even on the best of days.”

“Is that right?” Owen said, surprised to realize she’d lied to him about never getting sick. He took that as an indication of how badly she’d wanted to keep the appointment with Justin. “She did get pretty sick, and it wiped her out.”

“Poor baby.” He glanced at the gold watch on his wrist. “You’ve got about forty minutes until you need to head out to meet he who shall not be named.”

In that moment, Owen realized he was going to get along famously with Laura’s dad. Laughing, he said, “I like that.”

“Thought you might.” Frank opened the passenger door. “Let’s get her inside.”

“Allow me,” Owen said.

Frank stepped back to let Owen unclip the seat belt and scoop Laura out of the front seat.
 

She woke up when they were halfway to the door. “Oh, hey, are we here?”

“You’re home, honey,” Frank said. “Everything’s okay.”

“Hi, Daddy,” she said with a weak smile. “Sorry to show up in rag-doll condition.”

“I figured it might be a tough crossing today.”

“That’s one word for it,” she said. “You met Owen?”

“I sure did,” Frank said, leading the way into the house.
 

In a low tone that was for her ears only, Owen said, “We’ll discuss the fact that you lied to me about getting seasick later.”

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I couldn’t think about this meeting with Justin anymore. I need to get it over with.”

“I get it, honey. I’m kidding.”

“Here you are carrying me around again.”

“It’s a terrible hardship,” he said, kissing her forehead before he put her down on the sofa in what looked to be a formal living room.
 

“What can I get you, Laura?” Frank asked. “Some of that lemon tea you like? Will that settle your stomach?”

“That’d be great, Dad. Thanks.”

“Coming right up. Owen? Ready for a cold beer?”

“I wouldn’t say no to that. Thank you.”

“Be right back.”

Owen sat next to Laura and took her hand. “Do you feel any better after you slept?”

“A little. Sorry to be so high maintenance. I hate that you’ve seen me puke at least ten times by now and we haven’t even slept together. Yet.”

The word “yet” sent a shiver of anticipation dancing down his spine as he thought of the hotel room he’d booked at the Westin. “I hate to remind you that we
have
slept together.”

A heated blush added some much-needed color to her cheeks. “You know what I mean.”

“Don’t talk about it with your father in the next room,” he said in a low growl that betrayed his ragged emotions.

Her soft laughter filled him with anticipation and love. So much love. At some point, he’d fallen so damned hard for her and couldn’t wait to have the chance to tell her—and show her—what she meant to him.

Frank returned with their drinks and turned his focus on Owen.
 

Owen tried to release her hand, but she only held on tighter.

“Daddy,” Laura said with a note of warning in her voice. “Don’t even think about it.”

“What?” Frank asked, all innocence. “What’d I do?”

“If the word ‘intentions’ comes out of your mouth, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

Owen couldn’t contain a chuckle at Laura’s attempt to “manage” her father. He realized Frank shared his brother’s ball-busting sense of humor, which made Owen like him even more than he already did.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Frank said. “All I was going to say is that it’s nice to finally meet him. Am I allowed to say that?”

“Yes, but nothing else.”

To Owen, Frank said, “She was always such a nice girl. I’m not sure where I went wrong.”

“She’s still a nice girl,” Owen said with a warm glance at her. “The nicest girl I’ve ever known.”

The compliment earned him a smile from Laura.

“On that we agree,” Frank said. “So what’s the plan for he who shall not be named?”

At the reminder of why they were in Providence, Laura lost some of her sparkle. She put the teacup on a side table. “I’m going to tell him about the baby and try to convince him that our marriage may be over, but we’ve got a child to consider.”

“I’m very concerned about him getting physical with you,” Frank said.

“He never would, Dad. He’s far more likely to come at me with words, but I’m ready for him with a few words of my own.”

“That’s my girl.”

Owen was proud of her determination, but the hollow feeling in his gut was a reminder of all the many ways this could go horribly wrong for her—and for them. Whatever happened, he decided as she visited with her father, he’d be there for her. They were in this together.
 

Chapter 13

“Do you think he knows what we’ve got planned for later?” Laura asked as they left her father’s house a short time later. He’d offered them a place to stay for the night, but Laura had told him they’d made other plans.
 

“I sure hope not,” Owen said.

“I bet he knows.”

“I can’t think about that, let alone talk about it, until we get past part one.”

Her pensiveness had him reaching for her hand. “I’ll be right across the room, watching every second. No matter what happens, it’s going to be okay.”

“I hope you’re right.” Laura wanted to believe it was all going to be fine, but she knew Justin and wasn’t convinced he’d let go without a fight, especially once he found out about the baby.
 

“I gotta ask you… I mean, it’s none of my business, but…”

“You can ask me anything. You know that.”

“What’d you ever see in this guy? He sounds like a world-class dick.”

Even though she sensed he hadn’t meant to be funny, Laura laughed. “I suppose he does from what you’ve heard of him. But no one’s all bad or all good.”

“You are. You’re pure goodness. You don’t have a mean bone in your body.”

Touched by his sincerity, she said, “You haven’t seen me when I get mad. Watch out.”

“Spare me, killer. I’m not afraid of you.”

“You say that now…”

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

The amusing banter was exactly what she needed to stay calm and focused.
 

“You still haven’t told me what you saw in him.”

“He was handsome and charming and ambitious.”

“Everything I’m not,” Owen grumbled.

“How can you say that? You’re all of those things—and then some.”

“I’ll give you the handsome and charming,” he said to her laughter, “but how do I rate ambitious when I call an old van home?”

“You’re living your life on your own terms and no one else’s. You do what you want, when you want, and make a damned good living doing it. Not to mention, you’re doing something you love. What’s not to respect about that?”

“Hmm, I hadn’t thought of it that way. Still, I’m not exactly a lawyer.”

“Thank God for that. I’ve been around lawyers my whole life. You’re a refreshing change of pace.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him mull that over. Even as he drove the car, taking directions from her, she could see his wheels turning a mile a minute. “I can tell you’re dying to say something else. Why are you suddenly holding back on me?”

He looked over at her, seeming surprised by her insight.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I, um, I wonder if the refreshing change of pace can hold your interest long-term.”

“Owen,” she said, flabbergasted. “I can’t believe you’d say that! I can’t wait for us to be together—truly together without my estranged husband and divorce hanging over us. I think about that all the time.” She took his hand and held it between both of hers. “You believe me, don’t you?”

“I want to. Tell me this—am I the first guy you’ve ever dated who called a van home?”

Laura smiled. “Yes, you are.”

“I bet every other guy you’ve been with has an Ivy League education and a Brooks Brothers wardrobe.”

“Those things don’t matter to me. Not anymore.”

“I knew it!”

“So I might’ve had a type in the past. That was then.” She held on tighter to his hand. “This is now. I want you. I want to be with you.”

“I want you, too, Princess. But I’m not looking for a fling. Been there, done that. I’m ready for something more.”

“I am, too. That’s what I thought I was getting when I married Justin.”

“I’m worried that you haven’t given yourself enough time to get over what happened with him.”

“I remember asking Janey about that when she got involved with Joe so soon after she caught David with someone else. She said when you find out the man you love has been unfaithful, all the love you once felt for him disappears as if you never loved him at all. That’s what happened to her—and it was the same for me. After my friends told me what he’d done, I couldn’t even look at him without feeling sick. All the good feelings were gone, and there’s nothing he could say or do to ever bring them back. They’re
gone
. I was over him the minute I knew he still wanted other women. Some women can forgive that kind of transgression. I’m not one of them, and neither was Janey.”