Waiting for Love (13 page)

He scowled playfully. “Don’t make fun of my tan.”

“Why break tradition?”

Waggling his brows, he said, “How about you show me your tan lines.”

Linda made a big production out of removing the dress pants she’d worn to work at the hotel, revealing an equally sheer pair of panties that matched the bra.

He let out a low whistle as he reached for her. 

“Not so fast, sailor.” She tugged at the button to his shorts and made quick work of them and the boxers he wore underneath.

They fell on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs. His kisses were ravenous, desperate and so, so hot. The older he got, the sexier he became to her. Her fingers sifted through the thick gray hair that had once been as dark as their sons’. The gray only added to his incredible appeal.

Tonight he seemed inclined to take rather than give, which was fine with her. He was always a generous lover, and she was happy to return the favor. She’d give him whatever he needed, whenever he needed it.

He broke the kiss, gasping as he cupped her breasts through the bra. “Lin…”

“What, honey?”

“I love you so much.”

“I know.” She wrapped her arms around him, holding his head against her chest. He was so much bigger than her that she often felt delicate and fragile next to him. Now, however, he was fragile, and she was determined to support him. “I love you, too. I love how much you love all of us.”

“I love you all too much.”

She released her tight hold so she could see him. “No such thing.”

His smile softened his expression as he framed her face with his big hands. “Prettiest girl I ever met,” he said. When he kissed her, he kept his eyes open.

Moved by his words as much as the gentle slide of his lips, Linda looped her arms around his neck and let him take them both away from it all. So much for her plans to care for him. He took over, removing the bra and panties with practiced skill. 

As he kissed his way down the front of her, he said, “You know what I think about all the time?”

“What?” Linda said, gasping from the tug of his lips on her nipple.

“What would’ve become of me if you hadn’t given up your fancy life in the city to come to my island to be with me?”

She fisted a handful of his hair, arching her back to get closer to him. “What choice did I have? I was head over heels in love. Still am.”

“With me?” he asked, looking at her with blue eyes that danced with mischief. The relief at seeing his vivacity returning after the terrible fright they’d sustained made her want to weep. Instead of tears, though, she went with humor.

“With your island.”

He let out a grunt of protest and dug his fingers into her sides, tickling her as he drew hard on her nipple. 

The combination had Linda tightening her hold on his hair, torn between laughter and screaming from the pleasure. “Mac! Stop! I can’t take that.”

He tugged again on her nipple, gentler but still insistent. “Tell me who you were in love with.”

“You, God, only you. I was in love with you from the first second I ever laid eyes on you.”

He scooped her up effortlessly, drawing her in tight against him as he thrust into her. 

His strength had always been a huge turn-on for her, never more so than right now when he held her so tightly, controlling their every move.

She loved the way he dominated her in bed but let her dominate him the rest of the time. The dynamic had worked well for them for nearly forty years, and as Linda gave herself over to the pleasure, she could only hope they had many more years to spend together. 

“God, Lin,” he said, shuddering. “That’s so good. So good.”

It had always been so good, she thought, as she peppered his face with kisses.

He turned his head slightly, enough to join their lips. “So glad you picked me, babe.”

“As if there was any choice.”

“You could’ve had anyone.”

“I only ever wanted you.”

“Luckiest guy who ever lived.” 

And then there were no more words as he let his body speak for him, loving her so completely and so thoroughly that Linda was left spent and gasping when it was over.

“Whoa,” he said after a long period of breathy silence. “We still got it, huh?”

Linda released a shaky laugh. “Sure do.”

He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “We’ve been so lucky, you and me. Great kids, great business, great friends, great home, great life. Last week I thought our luck had finally run out.”

Linda turned on her side to face him. “It hasn’t run out, and it isn’t all luck. A lot of it was hard work and good parenting.”

“True, but still… How lucky do any two people have a right to be?”

“You have to stop thinking about it, Mac. You have to find a way to put it behind you. We all do.”

“I’m trying, babe. Believe me. It’s the last freaking thing I want to be thinking about, and yet there it is, all day every day, taunting me with the reminder of how very close we came to losing so much.”

Determined to keep him distracted, she crawled on top of him and reached over to the bedside table drawer where she’d stashed the vibrating “doohickey” she’d bought at Tiffany’s store.

Her husband’s eyes lit up when he saw what she had in her hand. 

“What’re you about, my love?”

“I remember a time,” Linda said, sprinkling his chest with kisses, “when partying wasn’t the only thing that kept us up all night. Remember that first summer we were married, before Mac was born?”

He massaged her shoulders, working his way down her back to cup her bottom. “Oh, yeah. That was the best summer ever.”

“It sure was.” She pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “What do you say we make
this
the best summer ever?”

“Would this best summer ever include that thing in your hand and whatever else Tiffany thinks we shouldn’t live without?”

Linda howled with laughter. And she’d thought he’d be resistant to toys in their bedroom. How wrong she’d been about that. “Whatever you want.”

His strong arms came around her, crushing her to him. “I like the sound of that.”

“Everything is going to be okay, Mac.”

“It will be as long as I have you.”

Linda took a moment to enjoy the sweet warmth of his embrace before she wriggled free and set out to take his mind off his worries for a little while longer. 

Chapter 8

Adam left the Surf and crossed the street to the Beachcomber, the iconic white hotel that anchored Gansett’s picturesque downtown. He cut through the lobby to the bar, where he took a quick look around but didn’t see Grant.

“Hi, Adam,” the bartender, Chelsea, said. They’d gone to high school together. “I hadn’t heard you were home.”

“How’s it going, Chelsea?”

“Race Week madness. We’ll all be glad when it’s over.”

As she said the words, a roar went up from the other end of the bar. “What’s going on down there?”

“Some of the sailors are teaching Abby Callahan how to do tequila shots. Pretty entertaining. I don’t think she’s ever done one before.”

Chelsea was still talking as Adam launched off his barstool and stalked to the far end of the bar where he found Abby in the middle of a circle of men. They were cheering her on as she sprinkled salt between her thumb and index finger. She wore a low-cut black top that showed off some rather significant curves, as well as deep red lipstick that highlighted her full mouth. With her dark hair loose around her shoulders, she was like a living, breathing wet dream.

In all the years that Abby had dated Grant, Adam had never thought of her as anything other than pretty, probably because she was his brother’s girlfriend. As he stared at her now, though, he realized she was hot. Smoking hot and about to take another shot of high-test liquor. That snapped him out of his stupor to take action.

He pushed through the crowd of guys and grabbed the hand that held the shot glass, sloshing tequila all over her audience.

One of the guys fought back. “Hey, dude, what the hell are ya doin’?”

“Party’s over,” Adam said as he yanked on Abby’s arm and pushed the protestor back.

She resisted his effort to extricate her. “Cut it out!”

“No wife of mine is going to behave this way in public,” Adam said, full of righteous indignation.

“
Whoa
,” the mouthy guy said, hands in the air. “She never said anything about being married.”

“She tends to go a little crazy when we’re on vacation away from the kids,” Adam said with a good-natured grin. “But you can’t blame her. Six kids in six years would make anyone crazy.”

“
Six
kids? Shit, man. Do
you
need a drink?”

“I’m good. Come on,
honey
. Time to call it a night. Say good night to your new friends.”

Abby muttered her good-byes and stared daggers at him as he half walked, half dragged her toward the lobby.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Chelsea watching in amusement as he marched Abby out of the bar.

“What the heck do you think you’re doing?” Abby fought against the grip he had on her arm. The slight slur to her words told him she’d gotten in a few shots before he arrived.

“So the drinking is going better, but the swearing still has room for improvement, huh?”

“I can’t believe you ruined everything! I was having
fun
! Now they all think I’m married, so none of them will sleep with me. Thanks a lot!” She pushed him away and swayed erratically.

Adam put his arm around her and guided her to the stairs. “You don’t want to sleep with one of them.”

“
Yes, I do!
Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?”

“Because I know you, Abby. You’re not like that.”

“You don’t know anything about me, and I want to
be
like that. I can’t do that with you ruining everything.” They had reached the first landing, between the first and second floors, when she stopped short, her eyes big and glassy.

“Are you going to be sick?”

She took a couple of deep breaths and shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Which room is yours?”

“I’m not telling you that. Go home, Adam. I don’t need you to save me from myself.”

“You need someone to save you before you make a huge mistake that you’ll instantly regret.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “I don’t know where you get off thinking you know me better than I know myself,” she said, loud enough for everyone in the lobby to hear her. “If I want to drink and swear and have meaningless sex, it’s
my
business!” 

“I’ll have meaningless sex with you, baby,” a male voice called up the stairs.

“Get your eyes off my wife,” Adam growled. He thought he heard the other man mutter, “Sorry” under his breath, but he wasn’t sure.

“I’m not his wife!”

“Move it,” Adam said to her. “I’m not leaving until you’re locked in your room.”

“How do you know I’ll stay there when you leave?”

“Who said I was leaving?”

“No one invited you to stay.”

“We’re making a scene. Let’s have this argument in your room.”

Scowling at him, she wrenched her arm free of his hold and marched unsteadily up the stairs. Adam followed a step or two behind, ready to catch her if she stumbled. On the third floor, she stopped outside Room 323.

“I’m here. You can go now.”

Not wanting to leave her upset and alone, Adam scrambled to think of some way to continue their “conversation.” But before he could come up with a plan, his phone dinged with a text that he only checked because he was concerned about his brother.

From Stephanie:
Grant came into the restaurant. Went for a walk, forgot his phone. Crisis averted. Thx for the help.

No problem. Glad he’s okay.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Adam said to himself as much as to Abby. He fired off a quick text to his parents to let them know Grant was okay.

“What is?”

“Grant showed up at Stephanie’s restaurant. We couldn’t find him for a couple of hours.”

“Where was he?”

“Went for a walk and forgot his phone.”

Abby’s snort was most unladylike. “
Grant?
Walk for hours without his phone? That’ll be the day. He might miss a call from Hollywood, and the world will end.”

Adam laughed at her spot-on assessment of his brother. “Very true.” It was also yet another reminder of how out of character Grant’s recent behavior had been.

Abby leaned on the door jamb. “You’re worried about him.”

“We all are.”

“If there’s anything I can do…”

“That’s nice of you, thanks.” Once again the conversation stalled, but Adam didn’t feel comfortable leaving her to her own devices in her current mood. Why he’d decided her own devices were his problem was something he could figure out later, after he’d seen her safely into her room. “I heard from Sasha.”

Abby gasped, and her full lips pursed fetchingly. “Really? What did she say?”

Adam was so focused on her sexy mouth that it took a second for the question to permeate the fog in his brain. “Um, she’s sorry. Wants to talk to me. Loves me, etc.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” he said with a shrug. “She texted. I haven’t replied.”

“Are you going to?”

A door opened down the corridor, and a sleep-mussed head poked out. “Do you mind? People are sleeping.”

“Oh,” Abby said. “Sorry.” Before Adam’s dazzled eyes, she reached into her top and pulled a room key card out of her bra. When she caught him watching her, she blushed madly. “What? I didn’t want to take a purse with me.”

“I hope you’ve got ID stashed in the other cup.”

Over her shoulder, she stuck her tongue out at him. “It’s in my back pocket, if you must know.”

The movement of her tongue detonated his stockpile of lust, sending it all to his groin in a rush of heat that had him removing his jacket to hide the effect she’d had on him. What the hell was that all about? Adam found himself once again trying to remember that this was
Abby
, who had nearly
married
his brother—the same brother who was going through some sort of private ordeal and probably wouldn’t appreciate Adam lusting after his ex.