“Do it,” Joe said without hesitation.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I am. He’s a goddamned doctor, and we need a goddamned doctor. Get him the hell over here.”
Janey smiled and kissed him again, hoping to remind him of who owned her heart. “Do you promise not to punch him?” she asked, referring to how he’d reacted to David’s infidelity.
“Only if he behaves and doesn’t say or do anything to provoke me.”
“What would count as provoking?” she asked in a teasing tone. “Saying ‘hello,’ perhaps?” That’s all it had taken from David to send Joe over the edge after witnessing Janey’s despair at her fiancé’s deception.
Joe scowled at her. “Make the call, Mrs. C, and stop trying to provoke
me
so you can have make-up sex later.”
Laughing at his stormy expression, she withdrew her cell phone from her pocket. “Why don’t you go check on Mac or something?”
“That’s okay.” He crossed his arms and sent her a mulish look. “I’ll stay.”
Janey rolled her eyes at him. Her normally low-key husband turned into a jealous fool whenever David Lawrence’s name was mentioned. “Hi, David, it’s Janey.”
“Why do you still have him on speed dial?” Joe whispered.
Janey held him off with a hand to his chest.
“Janey,” David said, sounding surprised to hear from her. “I thought you’d be on your honeymoon.”
“It’s been delayed due to the storm. I know I have no right to ask you for anything—”
“What do you need?”
“My sister-in-law Maddie is in labor, and Cal Maitland is off-island. Victoria, the nurse midwife, is on her way, but the baby… It’s two months early. We need a doctor, David.”
“Where are you?”
She gave him Mac’s address on Sweet Meadow Farm Road.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Thank you so much.” She closed the phone and looked up at Joe. “He’s coming.”
“Good. So why do you still have him on speed dial?”
“I need to take care of Janey’s pets,” Grant said, glancing toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms.
“Could I help?”
Surprised that she’d asked, he said, “Um, sure, if you want to.” He grabbed a flashlight and led her to the bedroom across the hall from where they’d spent last night together. When Grant opened the door, a scurry of paws greeted them.
“Oh!” Stephanie said, sucking in a sharp breath. “They’re… What’s… Oh.”
“They’ve all got special needs.”
Stephanie dropped to her knees and was mobbed by furry creatures. “Introduce me,” she said, scooping up Pixie, a Jack Russell with a skin condition. Over her shoulder, she looked up at him. “You do know their names, don’t you?”
“As if my sister would leave me with them for more than a week if I didn’t have every one of their names as well as each of their unique conditions and accompanying medications fully memorized.”
“Is your mama particular?” Stephanie asked Pixie in a little girl voice that got the attention of Grant’s cock. Again.
“That’s Pixie, Dexter, Sam, Muttley and Riley.”
As Pixie kissed Stephanie’s chin, she giggled.
Dexter, the cocker spaniel, nudged at her leg.
“Oh, God, Grant. His ears!” This time when she looked up at him, her eyes were bright with tears. “Did someone do that to him?”
When Grant lowered himself to the floor, Sam, a white ball of fur, scurried into his lap. “Janey isn’t sure how he lost his ears. He was like that when they found him.”
Stephanie pressed her lips to Dexter’s snout. “Poor baby. I’m so sorry someone hurt you.”
Touched by her compassion, Grant propped the flashlight to better illuminate the room.
She reached out to pet Muttley, a black-and-brown mongrel who was missing his tail, and the dog shied away from her.
Grant suddenly remembered Stephanie doing the same thing the day they met. They’d been standing outside the clinic where his father was being treated after the accident at the marina. She’d been upset about his father, and Grant had intended to comfort her. When his hand landed on her shoulder, she’d flinched. He’d forgotten about that until right now.
After hearing that her mother used to beat her, at least he knew why. Imagining Stephanie as a helpless child being beaten by the mother who was supposed to care for her filled him with rage and made him want to personally ensure that no one ever hurt her again.
“He thinks I’m going to hit him,” she said softly.
“It takes him a while to warm up to new people.”
Stephanie held out her hand, encouraging Muttley to approach her.
The dog took a tentative step and then another.
Stephanie stayed perfectly still, giving him all the time he needed to get comfortable with her.
When Muttley finally nuzzled her outstretched hand, a victorious smile stretched across her face.
Watching her pleasure at the small victory, Grant felt something inside him shift and open to make room for the possibility… Desperate to keep his thoughts where they belonged, he reached a hand out to Muttley. The dog zeroed in on the wound on his palm and licked the bandage that covered it. When Grant started to withdraw his hand, Stephanie stopped him.
“Let him tend to you.” The heat of her hand on his arm burned through his thin T-shirt. “He’s showing you he trusts you not to hit him.”
Moved by her understanding, Grant stared at her as she kept her attention on Muttley, stroking his back and ears.
“Are you sure dog germs are good for the cut?” he asked.
“His mouth is cleaner than yours.”
“Um, I’ve seen where his mouth has been.”
“If you could put your mouth where he can put his, you’d probably never leave the house.”
Grant went instantly hard at the thought of her mouth in places he couldn’t reach. Why was it that his body responded so predictably to this feisty woman with the fresh mouth, but not all the hundreds—if not thousands—of other less prickly women he had known? “That’s a lovely visual. Thank you for that.”
Stephanie laughed at his haughty tone, and he thanked God for the murky darkness so she couldn’t see what her suggestive comment had done to him.
“What’s his name again?” she asked, nodding to the German shepherd who stood at the periphery watching the others cuddle up to them.
“That’s Riley. He’s the boss.”
A three-legged cat sprinted from the corner and out the door.
“Whoa,” Stephanie said, startled by the cat.
“That’d be Trio,” Grant said.
“What’s wrong with Riley?”
“He’s missing his hind legs.”
Stephanie whimpered. “I can’t imagine how anyone…”
“I know.”
She raised Sam, the blind fur ball, to her chest for a snuggle. “It’s good of your sister to take them in.”
“She’s been taking in strays since she was a little kid.” Grant glanced at her black shirt. “Sam has you all covered in white hair.”
Stephanie’s eyes were closed, her lips parted. “I don’t care.”
Grant swallowed hard as another burst of lust hit him like a punch to the gut. “I haven’t had much luck getting them to go outside today. They don’t like the storm.”
“Of course they don’t.” She kissed Sam and put her down with the others. “Come on, guys. Let’s go out.”
Grant watched in stunned amazement as she herded the menagerie out the bedroom door. They scurried after her like they’d known her forever. He wondered if they recognized a fellow traveler, someone who’d been mistreated herself.
Riley, bringing up the rear, scooted himself along. He stopped to give Grant a searching look.
“I know, man. She’s special. Don’t worry, I get it.”
Seeming satisfied, Riley continued on his way to the back door.
Grant felt like he’d been standing on a chair and someone had kicked it out from under him. His equilibrium was all out of whack, and he had a sudden, uncomfortable feeling that the young woman with the difficult past and a way with animals might be the only one who could help him recover his balance.
Even though it was pouring rain, Stephanie stayed outside until each of the dogs had at least gone pee. She came in the back door and removed her coat, hanging it on a hook to dry. The obedient animals trooped into their room and took to their beds, probably relieved to be out of the storm.
Running her fingers through her damp hair, she contemplated the shadows in the dark hallway. The light from the fireplace flickering in the living room was all that kept the house from being totally dark.
Stephanie was struck by a memory of being alone in the apartment she’d shared with her mother. The power had gone out because her mother hadn’t paid the bill—again. There’d been a storm, a lot like tonight, with wind and rain. Howling wind that had scared her. She’d been about six then.
Her mother had been gone a long time that night. Hours. She could still remember the raw fear of the dark, the storm, the loneliness, the wondering if she might die there all alone.
“Stephanie?”
Grant’s voice startled her out of the reflection. Where had that memory come from? She hadn’t thought of that night in years.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Of course. I should probably go back to the marina.”
“I couldn’t stand to think of you all alone in that big dark building with this insane storm going on.”
“Why?” The second the word left her lips, she wanted to reach out and take it back.
The question clearly took him by surprise, too. “What do you mean why?”
Stephanie cleared her throat and forced her gaze to meet his. “I mean why do you care if I’m there alone? You don’t even like me.”
Exasperated, he glanced up at the ceiling before he looked at her again. “I never said I don’t like you.”
“All we do is fight.”
“That’s not
all
we do.”
The veiled reference to what had transpired the night before once again filled her with heat. Even though she was under no illusions that he was suddenly over Abby and interested in her, she still found him to be the most interesting—and attractive—man she’d ever known.
“Where exactly am I supposed to sleep here?” she asked, giving voice to her most pressing question.
“You can have the bed. I’ll take one of the sofas.”
“They’re only like four feet long, and you have to be six-foot something.”
“Three,” he said with a small grin, seeming amused by her discomfort with the sleeping arrangements conversation.
She swallowed hard. “You can’t sleep on a four-foot sofa.”
Shrugging, he said, “I’ll make it work.”
Still holding the flashlight, he studied her with those eyes that made her feel naked even when she was fully dressed, as if he could see all her secrets and was having a laugh at her expense. No, that wasn’t fair. He wasn’t unkind. Clueless sometimes, but never unkind.
“Let’s go sit by the fire for a bit.” He gestured for her to follow him into the living room and sprawled on one of the loveseats. “I don’t know about you, but I’m freezing.”
“I’m kind of cold, too.” Why, she wondered, was she suddenly so insanely nervous around him when she’d managed to hold her own with him all day? Maybe it was because he knew her secrets now, and hearing what she’d been through had seemed to change something for him. But what? Anxious to end the introspection that was making her nuts, she settled on the other loveseat and decided to ask the one question that would take the focus off her. “So how’d it go with Abby?”
“Fine.”
Stephanie waited to see if he’d elaborate.
He ran his hand up and down the faded length of denim that covered his thigh. “We had a nice chat. I think I’m finally getting that it’s over with her.”
“Sorry.”
He zeroed in on her with those intense blue eyes. “Are you?”
Stunned by the direct question, she stared back at him. “I, um…”
“Tell me the truth. Are you really sorry that Abby and I are done?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I asked first.”
Stephanie had no idea what she should say or do. Would it be wise to tell him the truth? That she was glad his relationship with Abby was officially over? Or should she tell him she had no interest in being his rebound girl? Was this her chance to have something more with him? Or was he just trying to get her to admit she liked him as more than a friend so he could let her down easily?
And why was she even contemplating “more” with him—whatever that would entail—when she had no business looking for more with any guy? She already had enough to deal with.
“No need to overthink it,” he said. “It’s a yes or no question. Are you really sorry that Abby and I are done?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“
That’s
hardly a yes or no question.” In need of fortification, Stephanie yearned for a stiff drink. “The more important question is whether
you’re
sorry that you and Abby are done.”
“Of course I’m sorry. I had a good thing with her, and I was too stupid and self-absorbed to realize it until I didn’t have it anymore.”
“I think—” Stephanie stopped herself before she ventured into territory that qualified as none of her business.
“What?”
She shook her head.
“Just say it, Steph. You’ve shared every other thought that’s popped into your head where I’m concerned.”
Oh no I haven’t
, she thought, affected once again by his casual use of her nickname. “It’s just …if she was ‘the one’ for you, the one you were meant to be with, don’t you think you would’ve noticed she was unhappy?”
“Probably,” he said with a grim set to his mouth. “It bothers me that she was unhappy enough to pack up and move back here after five years with me in LA—and I didn’t even
get it
until she was gone. And even then it took me another year to fully wake up and realize she was truly gone. By then, she was already engaged to Cal.”
“It bothers you that you hurt her like that.”
“Hell yes, it bothers me. I took her and our relationship totally for granted. I expected that once I pulled my head out of my ass, she’d still be there waiting like always. It was a bit of a shock to wake up a year ago and discover she wasn’t waiting around anymore for me to get a clue.”
“I suppose all you can do now is learn from it and move on. She hasn’t given you much choice about that.”
He studied his folded hands for a long moment before he shifted his potent gaze to her. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
“Which one?”
“Why aren’t you sorry that Abby and I are done?”
“Oh, that one.”
“Yes, that one.” The quirk of amusement that touched his sexy mouth told her he was enjoying putting her on the spot. “Everyone thinks you and I are together, you know.”
Stephanie nearly choked on her own spit. “Who’s everyone?”
“My brothers, Luke, Ned, Abby… They all said something about us dancing together last night and showing up at the party together tonight.”
“That’s what you wanted, right? To make Abby jealous?”
“She didn’t really seem to care. In fact, she thinks you’d be good for me.”
“Ahh, I get it. You need someone to fill the void now that it’s finally registered that your girlfriend isn’t coming back.”
His relaxed, amused expression turned dark so fast it startled her. “That is
not
why it matters to me what you think.”
Stephanie hated that his anger made her nervous. She was years past the point where anyone had raised a hand to her in anger, but it still had a profound effect on her.
Seeming to sense her dismay, he straightened out of the slouch he’d slipped into and leaned forward. Elbows on knees, he studied her. “Did I scare you just now?”
His insight rattled her as much as his nearness. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said with a scoff. “I’m not afraid of you.” More like terrified, not that she’d ever tell him that.
“I think you are.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, McCarthy.”
He shifted from his loveseat to hers so smoothly that Stephanie had no time to prepare. “Don’t be scared of me, Stephanie. I’d never raise a hand to you in anger. It kills me to know that someone else did.”
As his softly spoken words and masculine scent filled her senses, her heart beat fast and hard. She struggled to draw air into her lungs. “What’re you doing?” The words came out as a nervous squeak that infuriated her. No one had ever had such an effect on her. Ever.