McCarthys of Gansett Island Boxed Set Books 1-3 (33 page)

“The big day will be here before you know it.”

“Maddie’s mother is due home in a few days, and then we’ll be down to the seven-day countdown.”

“Have you ever met her?” Joe asked, stalling. “The mother? I’ve heard she’s a piece of work.”

“No, but I’ve gotten the high-maintenance impression from Maddie. Of course the whole prison thing paints a certain picture. . .”

Despite the tension that gripped him, Joe laughed. “Imagine writing enough bad checks to get thrown in the can.”

“I can’t. The whole thing is so embarrassing to Maddie.”

“I’m sure. So, um, listen. . .”

“What’s going on, Joe? You sound kinda funny.”

Joe closed his eyes, sucked in a deep breath and took the plunge. “Janey’s here.”

“What do you mean? She’s with David.”

“No, she isn’t. She’s here. At my house.”

“What the hell?”

“Something happened with him. She’s not hurt, at least not physically, but she’s pretty shook up.”

“Wait a minute,” Mac said, his tone tight with frustration. “Start at the beginning.”

“I know this’ll piss you off, but you’ll have to hear it from her. She didn’t even want me to call you, but I thought you should know where she is.” In the back of Joe’s mind was a bit of self-preservation, too. If Mac entrusted his sister’s care to Joe, there was no way he would allow his own emotions into the equation. As crazy as it sounded—even to him—Joe saw this call as an emotional insurance policy of sorts.

“How did she end up with you?”

“Her car broke down, and she called me.”

Mac was silent for a long time.

“What?” Joe finally asked. “Just say it, will you?”

“You really think you’re the right person to nurse her through a crisis with David?” Joe had expected the question. After all, Mac was the only other person on earth who knew how Joe felt about her. Mac had kept the secret for almost as long as Joe had.
 

“I’m the one she called, Mac. What was I supposed to do?”

“Exactly what you did, I suppose. I’ll be over in the morning to get her.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. She needs some time to get herself together before she has to face everyone on the island. It’s what she needs right now.”

“And you’re suddenly an expert on what she needs?”

“Don’t push me on this. One of us will call you in a few days. Until then, butt out.”

“I swear to God—”

“Save it, Mac! If you can’t trust me to take care of her, who
can
you trust?”

Apparently, his oldest and best friend had nothing to say to that.
 

“I don’t want to see you hurt, either,” Mac said quietly.

At that, some of the wind left Joe’s sails. “I’m dealing with it.”

“Be careful, man. You don’t want to end up worse off after the dust settles.”

“How could I be worse off?” Joe asked with a sarcastic chuckle. “Can you tell me that?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I wish you’d tell me what he did.”

“Use your imagination. Go to worst-case scenario and take it from there.”

“Son of a bitch,” Mac muttered.
 

“Exactly.”

“Since you’re taking care of her, maybe I’ll go take care of him.”

Joe expected nothing less from Janey’s doting older brother. “I know it’s hard for you to sit there and do nothing, but you have to wait and take your cues from her on this one.”

Mac released a rattling deep breath, and Joe had no doubt his friend was calling upon every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from renting a plane and flying to Boston that very minute. It was a good thing for David Lawrence that Mac McCarthy was stuck on an island right then. For that matter, it was a good thing for David Lawrence that Joe Cantrell was more concerned with caring for Janey than he was with killing her wayward fiancé.

“I’m going to hurt him,” Mac vowed.

“When the time is right, I’ll help you.”

After retrieving her bag from the truck, Joe checked on Janey and found her sleeping soundly, which was a relief. He couldn’t deal with any more of her suffering just then, not when he was managing a good bit of his own. Leaving her bag next to the bed where she could find it if she woke up in the night, he took a pillow and a light blanket from the closet.

In the living room, he stripped down to boxers and stretched out on the sofa. Off in the distance, the moon silvered the harbor, but all Joe could see was Janey, hunched over the wheel of her car, devastated and alone. His hands rolled into fists. Oh, how he’d love five minutes alone with David Lawrence! However, while one part of him wanted to pound the cheating dog into the ground, another part wanted to send him an engraved thank-you note.

Maybe now. . . Maybe after she recovered from the blow and got back on her feet. . . Maybe there’d be a chance for them. He let the idea run around in his mind for a good five minutes, the fantasies coming to vivid life before reality came crashing back to remind him it was hopeless. Who did he think he was kidding? She saw him as an extra older brother, no different than the four others her parents had provided. Never would she see him as anything other than what he’d always been—a close friend of Mac’s and, by extension, a friend of hers, too. Despondency crept over him like a heavy, wet blanket.
 

Damn it! Why’d she have to call
him
of all people? Why couldn’t he have gone on with his evening, none the wiser to the drama unfolding in Boston? Of course he would have found out eventually, but he wouldn’t have had to witness her devastation firsthand.

Most of the time, he dealt just fine with his unrequited love for her. Sure, there were times—like earlier today as she’d boarded the ferry on her way to surprise David—when it was agonizing to love a woman who loved someone else. But most of the time, it was something that was just
there
, as much a part of him as the birthmark on his thigh or the funky pinky toe on his left foot that curled inward.
 

He’d long ago accepted that she was a part of his DNA. She owned his heart, even if she didn’t know it. That didn’t mean his life was meaningless. Quite the opposite. He had great friends, owned a thriving, successful business that he loved and had no shortage of women willing to warm his bed on cold New England nights.
 

No, loving Janey McCarthy hadn’t ruined his life. At least not yet. But now. . . Now that she’d been here, in the house he’d built with his own hands. . . Joe rested an arm over his eyes, wishing he could hide from the myriad emotions storming around inside him. Everything he’d ever wanted was asleep in his bed. And he was out here, one room away but light years from what he most desired.

Against all odds, Joe dozed off and woke much later to the sound of wrenching sobs. He was up and off the sofa before he was fully awake. In the bedroom, he found her curled into the fetal position, crying her heart out.
 

If he’d taken the time to shake off the sleep stupor, he might’ve contemplated the implications of crawling into bed with her wearing only thin boxers. He might’ve stopped himself from easing her into his embrace and cushioning her head on his chest. He probably would’ve seen the error of his ways before she curled around him and held on for dear life. In his right mind, he would’ve examined the consequences in time to stop himself from acting so impulsively. But by the time he finally got a clue, it was far,
far
too late.
 

Janey McCarthy was in his bed and in his arms, and Joe Cantrell was ruined. Completely and utterly ruined.
 

Janey couldn’t remember a time when she needed anything more than the sweet comfort of Joe’s love wrapped tight around her. Somewhere deep down inside, in a place she rarely ventured, she had suspected he cared for her as more than his best friend’s bratty little sister.
 

When she’d been blissfully happy as David’s girlfriend and then fiancée, it hadn’t occurred to her to delve too deeply into the heated looks she sometimes received from Joe or the odd vibe she’d experienced whenever they were together over the last few years.
 

In fact, more than once she’d been almost frightened by the intensity of what she felt coming from him, so she’d done what any loyal, faithful fiancée would do and acted like it didn’t exist. Just yesterday, when she’d thought her life was set and her future secure, she wouldn’t have dreamed of entertaining thoughts about her brother’s sexy best friend.

But as he held her close to him, she was suddenly and acutely aware of not Joe, her friend, but Joe, the man. Had she ever noticed he was ripped with muscles? Or that he smelled so amazing? Right now, he wasn’t her brother’s friend or her longtime friend. No, right now he was here, he was warm, and she had no doubt, no doubt whatsoever, that he loved her.

“Joe.”

“I’m here, honey.” He tightened his hold on her, while under her ear, his heart pounded out a rapid beat. “I’m right here.”

She drank in his clean fresh scent as well as the lingering spice of his beloved clove cigarettes and salty sea air. In her current state, it wasn’t fair, she knew, to take advantage of him and all he felt for her. It wasn’t fair to manipulate his care and concern, to turn it into something bigger than either of them could handle just then. She knew all that, but knowing didn’t stop her hand from setting out to learn the curves and planes of his muscular chest.

He sucked in a sharp deep breath. “Janey.” His hand on top of hers ended the exploration.

“I can’t bear it,” she whispered as new tears filled her eyes. “I can’t.”

“I know.” He caressed her hair and massaged her shoulders. “It’ll take time, but you’ll get past it. I promise.”

“I need to feel something else.” Since he had a firm grip on her roving hand, she turned her face into his chest and nuzzled the soft blond hair.

As if an electrical current had hit him, he stiffened. “What’re you doing?”

“Make me feel something other than devastated, Joe.”

He tried to get up, but she stopped him.
 

His hazel eyes found hers in the moonlight that seeped in through the open blinds. “You have no idea what you’re asking of me. No idea.”

“I’m asking someone who loves me and who I love to hold me and love me and make this awful, unbearable pain go away.”

He shook his head. “I can’t, Janey. I just can’t.”

“Joe.” Her lips found his, her hand sank into his thick sandy hair, her fingers caressed his scalp, and he trembled. “I need you. Don’t say no. Please don’t say no.”

His hands framed her face as he drew back from her. “You can’t ask me for this, Janey. I’ll get you anything else you need, but not this.”

“No one else could give me this.” She caressed his chest and belly, his rippling muscles responding to her touch even as he continued to resist. Emboldened, she rose up to shift on top of him. The press of his erection against her belly told her his body was with her even if the rest of him wasn’t.

His hands traveled over her back and stopped at the waistband to her shorts. He studied her as if he was making some sort of decision.

“We can’t, honey,” he said softly. “It’s not going to make anything better. It’ll only make everything worse.”

“No. It won’t.”

“You’re using me to get back at him. Evening the score won’t make you feel any less devastated.”

She shook her head and slid her lips back and forth over his. “I’m not thinking about him right now. I’m thinking about you, and I already feel better.” Straddling him, she sat up and reached for the hem of her shirt.

He stopped her. “You’ll hate yourself in the morning. And worse yet, you’ll hate me.”

“I could never, ever hate you.”

“You don’t think so now. . .”

“I know so.”

She tugged her fingers free of his grip and pulled the top over her head.
 

Joe’s eyes flared with heat and desire at the sight of her lacy bra. His fingers dug into her hips.

“Take it off me.” She rolled her hips, pressing her heat against his steely length.

“
Janey
. . .” He groaned and fumbled with the hooks.

Watching him react to her, Janey had a moment of hesitation. After all, she’d never done this with anyone but David. But he was gone now, dead to her in every way that mattered. Since she had no choice but to go on without him, she may as well get started on the rest of her life.

With her eyes fixed on Joe’s handsome, familiar face, she slid down and took his boxers with her.

Chapter 3

With every fiber of his being, Joe knew this was wrong. Well, one part of his being wasn’t listening to the rest, but he’d never been one to think with that part of his anatomy.

Until now.

Janey McCarthy was naked in his arms, and nothing in his wildest fantasies—and his Janey fantasies were quite something—had come even remotely close to the reality. Her hands and lips devoured him, rendering him helpless to deny her, even though he had no doubt he’d regret this. She claimed she wouldn’t have regrets. He didn’t believe that, either.