Grant tugged at the collar of his white dress shirt, hoping he hadn’t bled on it when he cut himself shaving earlier. How many years had he been shaving, and today of all days, he had to practically open a vein?

“Is there blood?” he asked Dan, who stood next to him calmly checking his phone while Grant felt like he was going to expire in the late-afternoon heat.

Dan spared him a brief glance. “No blood, but that’s one hell of a gash. First day with the razor?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Dan laughed hard. “Is that any way to speak to your best man?”

“It’s the only way to speak to my best man. Don’t forget I can replace you rather easily. I’ve got three brothers waiting in the wings.”

Grant expected the usual snappy comeback, but Dan surprised him with a small, sentimental smile. “It’s not our way to get sappy with each other, but I have to tell you how much it meant to me that you asked me to stand up for you when you had so many other far more suitable candidates. Since you’re the only brother I’ve got left, I’m hoping you’ll return the favor next summer.”

“Dan… Christ, you’re going to make me bawl. Of course I will. And I’m sorry for the joke about my brothers. That was insensitive.”

“No, it was funny. I love your brothers. You know I do. The four of you have helped to fill the void a little, and I want you to know I’m hugely honored to be your best man.” Dan had lost his only brother in Afghanistan.

Grant hugged him. “Thank you for doing this today and for telling me last summer that I needed to go after her. Best thing I ever did.”

“She’s a great girl. You couldn’t have done any better.”

“I know, believe me.”

“Looks like show time.” From their vantage point on the deck behind the Surf, Dan gestured to the flurry of activity happening inside Stephanie’s Bistro. Dan put his phone away, and both men buttoned the jackets of their navy blue suits.

They’d hoped to get married on the beach, but it was just windy enough that fears of blowing sand had compelled them to move the ceremony to the deck where the reception would also be held.

Grant caught the barest glimpse of the woman in white, but forced himself to look away so he wouldn’t ruin anything for her. They’d invited only their closest friends and family, who began to come out to the deck in groups and couples, giving his siblings, their spouses and children and Grant’s parents the front row. The plan was for them to stand around Grant and Stephanie while his Uncle Frank married them—quick and simple so they could get to the party as fast as possible.

Frank came over to join Grant and Dan, hugging them both.

“All ready?” Frank asked his nephew.

“Never been more ready.”

Frank signaled Grant’s brother Evan, who, along with Owen, provided guitar music as the rest of the guests found their way to the deck, separating down the middle.

Grace preceded Stephanie, wearing a gorgeous navy dress and carrying a bouquet of light blue and purple hydrangeas. She smiled at Grant as she took her place across from him, leaving a spot that would soon belong to Stephanie. This was really happening.

“You aren’t going to pass out or anything, are you?” Dan muttered.

“I don’t think so, but keep your eyes open.”

“You got it.”

A reassuring smile from his mother gave Grant something else to focus on beside the butterflies storming around in his belly. And then Charlie and Stephanie appeared, and the sight of her chased away the butterflies and ramped up the excitement. There she was, and dear God, she was beautiful in that sexy dress as she came toward him on the arm of her adored father. The two of them were smiling so brightly. Grant didn’t think he’d ever seen either of them smile quite like they were now.

“Take good care of my little girl,” Charlie said gruffly when he placed her hand in Grant’s.

“Always.”

After she hugged Charlie, Stephanie handed her bouquet of white and blue hydrangeas to Grace and joined hands with Grant, smiling up at him.

“H-O-T,” he whispered.

Her smile got even wider, and was that… Oh God, she’d worn the stud. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to get a hard-on in front of everyone he knew when he thought about why she might’ve worn the stud today of all days.

Frank led them through the ceremony and the reciting of traditional vows. They’d gone traditional because Stephanie said she would never be able to match her Academy Award-winning screenwriter fiancé in the vows department, and she wasn’t about to try.

It was just as well, Grant decided, since he could barely remember his own name looking at her in that sexy dress. Grant never took his eyes off her as he said the words, listened to her do the same, pushed the ring on her finger and held out his hand for her to place his ring, the platinum band reminding him of his never-ending commitment to her. As if he’d need the reminder.

Then Frank was pronouncing them husband and wife, and Grant was kissing his wife and the love of his life. She wrapped her arms around his neck and slipped him the tongue, letting the stud rub up against his tongue, and there was no stopping his reaction to that maneuver.

Of course she knew what she’d done to him and laughed at his befuddled reaction. He lifted her into his arms and held her close until he had calmed enough to face their friends and family as husband and wife without embarrassing himself.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Frank said, “I give you Grant and Stephanie McCarthy.”

Stephanie McCarthy… She was finally his to keep forever, and nothing had ever made him happier.

---

Hours later, the wedding was winding down and people had begun to leave, but Shane continued to dance with Katie, loving the feel of her in his arms and reluctant to let her go even though he was excited to show her the house. He’d had a few uneasy moments, wondering if she’d resent him making such a big decision for both of them without her input.

But then again, she hadn’t yet agreed to move in with him, and he did need a more permanent place to live. Hell, if she didn’t like it, Ned would find them something else. Whatever she wanted was fine with him as long as he got to keep her in his life.

Evan had taken a break to dance with Grace while Owen sang a sultry version of “Adore You.”

“Is this that Miley Cyrus song?” Katie asked as she watched her brother sing the song to his new wife, who sat nearby with Holden on her lap.

“Only so much better coming from Owen.” Shane sang the refrain in her ear and then used the lyrics to his advantage. “I need you more.”

“No, I need you more,” Katie said, playing along.

“No way. Not possible.” He nuzzled her cheek when he really wanted to devour her mouth. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Where’re we going?”

“Come with me, and I’ll show you.” Shane never released her hand as they said their good-byes to family and friends as well as the euphoric bride and groom.

Katie hugged and kissed her mother, who then turned to Shane and gave him the same loving farewell. It had been a long time since Shane had been mothered, and Sarah’s affection went a long way toward soothing that particular wound on his soul.

“I love your mom,” he said to Katie as they walked through the lobby toward the front doors.

“She loves you, too.”

Sarah’s approval made it that much easier to make his case to Katie.

“You still haven’t said where you’re taking me.”

“No, I haven’t, have I?”

“You’re in a funny mood.”

“Am I?”

“Stop answering everything I say with a question!”

Amused by her exasperation, he said, “Is that what I’m doing?”

“You know what you’re doing.” She elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re driving me crazy.”

He dropped her hand and put his arm around her, loving the silky feel of her shoulder under his palm. “That’s how I like you.”

“So where’re we going?”

“Just down here and around the corner.”

“At least that wasn’t a question. What’s down here and around the corner?

“I’ll show you when we get there.”

“Ugh. Are you looking to start our first fight?”

“Most definitely not. Roll with me for a minute, honey.”

“Well, when you ask so nicely…”

An odd sensation trickled through him, something not easily identified. He was still chewing on what it was when they reached the cottage. “Here we are.”

“What’s this place?”

He didn’t answer her but bent to retrieve the key that was under the planter where Ned had said it would be. Shane opened the door and held out a hand to Katie, who stood back, watching him with vexation and curiosity in her expression. “Come see.”

She took his hand and followed him inside, her sharp gaze taking in every detail of the living room and kitchen in one quick glance. “It’s lovely. Whose is it?”

“Ours, if we want it.”

Her eyes widened, and her lips formed an adorable O. “Ours?”

“Only if you like it as much as I do.”

She released his hand and went for a better look at the kitchen, bedrooms and bathroom.

Shane waited on pins and needles to hear what she thought of it. “You could have your own room if you’re not quite ready to shack up officially.”

She ran a hand over the creamy-white wall. “If I had my own room, would you visit me there?”

“As often as you wanted me to.”

“Since that would be every night, it seems sort of foolish to have separate bedrooms.”

His heart skipped a beat when he realized she still wanted the same things he did. “Your thinking matches mine.” He took her hand again. “Come sit with me for a minute.”

They sat in the corner of the empty living room. Always the lady, Katie curled her legs under her, tugging her skirt down to her knees.

“I want to tell you a few things that normally I’d prefer to keep to myself for several reasons. One, I hate talking about this stuff, and two, it really has no bearing on you or us or how I feel about you. But it’s important to me that I be honest with you, so I want to tell you, okay?”

“Okay…”

He hated the trepidation he saw on her face and heard in her one-word answer, but he knew he had to come clean with her. “Earlier this week when you wrote me your adorable note, you said you’d noticed I had something on mind. You told me if I couldn’t talk to you about it, you wished I would talk to someone. You were right. I did have something weighing heavily on me, and I talked to my Uncle Kevin, who’s a psychiatrist.”

“What was weighing so heavily on you?”

“The things that Courtney said to me… I was messed up afterward. I didn’t want to be, because I’ve come so far from that situation, and I have so much in my life now to be grateful for. I’d started this awesome new relationship with you, and I was happy again for the first time in a very long time. So much of that happiness was because of you.”

“Did Kevin help?”

“He helped a lot. We talked it through, and he said a lot of things that made so much sense, but one thing in particular really resonated with me.” He took hold of Katie’s hand and linked their fingers, needing to touch her while he talked about his past for what he hoped would be the last time. “He said that with this new information about what really happened, it was no longer possible for me to make Courtney the villain in our marriage. I couldn’t hate her anymore, and I had to find a way to deal with the things she’d told me without derailing my new life.”

“And have you? Have you dealt with it?”

“Not entirely.” He gave her the honesty she deserved. “But I will. In time. The important thing for you to know is I have absolutely no desire to go back to her. I loved her very much for a long time, but I don’t love her anymore. I love you. You’re the one I want to be with. I want to live here with you or somewhere else, if this place doesn’t do it for you. I want to be close to our nephew and the new babies when they’re born. I want to spend time with my family and friends and your family when they come to visit.”

He leaned his forehead against hers. “I want to be with your mom and Charlie, Laura and Owen and Holden, and I want to help out with my friend Lisa and her kids, who are going to need all the friends they can get. I want to be here. With you. I want a life with you. I know we haven’t known each other long, but it took me no time at all to know you’re special, and the more time we spend together, the more proof I get that my initial gut feeling about you was spot-on.”

“Shane…” She took a deep breath and placed her free hand over her heart. “You take my breath away.”

“In a good way?”

“In the best way possible.”

His relief at hearing that was overwhelming.

“I love you, too,” she said. “I want all the same things you do and a couple of other things that it’s too soon to tell you about.”

“No, it’s not too soon. Tell me. I want to know so I can help you get everything you want.”

“I’ve mentioned this once before, but when I was younger,” she said tentatively, “before I understood just how screwed-up my family really was, I pictured myself with a lot of kids. I’m thirty-two, so the reality of a big family is starting to slip away.”

“Then we ought to get started on this project of yours sooner rather than later.”

She stared at him, seeming astounded. “You’re serious.”

“Completely serious. I remember you telling me before about the horde of kids you want to have. My life has been on hold for a long, lonely time. I’m ready to get busy living again, and in case you haven’t noticed, I love babies. Well, I love Holden, but I’m sure I’ll be crazy about our kids, too. I want the same thing you do, and there’s no time like the present to get busy living.”

“Is this really happening?”

“It’s really happening, and it’s amazing, and it’s only going to get better.” He leaned in to kiss her softly, just the touch of his lips on hers. All the turmoil and upheaval of the last week settled and calmed, leaving him in a state of peacefulness he’d rarely experienced since Courtney left him. And then he realized what he’d felt earlier, walking into the house he hoped would be theirs: pure, unmitigated joy. “About the house… Yes, no, maybe?”

“Definitely yes. I love it as much as you do. But we share a bedroom or no deal.”

“Done,” he said, smiling at her. “We’re going to need the extra bedroom for the kids we’re going to have together.” He kissed her again, lingering when her sweet softness filled his senses and his heart. “So when you tell these kids of ours how we met, what will you say?”

“I’ll tell them the truth.” She caressed his face and slid her thumb over his bottom lip. “I’ll tell them you saved my life.”

“And I’ll tell them that after I saved yours, you saved mine.”

---

Keep reading for a sneak peek of , Paul and Hope’s story!

---

Paul Martinez loved everything about September on Gansett Island—from the cornflower-blue sky, to the cool fresh air and the quiet of the island returning to normal after another busy summer. The year-rounders got their island back in September. The tourists went home, back to school and work, after playing on Gansett all summer. During three crazy months, the island’s regular population of a few hundred hardy souls swelled to thousands.

As he drove home following a long day of landscaping work, Paul appreciated that the island roads had returned to “normal,” with hardly any cars, mopeds or bicycles impeding his ride. Islanders appreciated the tourists and the boost they brought to the economy. But they were also happy to see them go after Labor Day, when a collective sigh of relief greeted the cooler days and nights of September.

As the co-owner of Martinez Lawn & Garden, spring and summer were Paul’s busiest time of year, followed closely by autumn, when the leaves turned brilliant colors before they dropped into yards that needed to be cleaned up before the winter set in. By the first of next month, the pumpkins would be in and ready to harvest.

A lot still had to be done before they settled in for the long, cold winter on Gansett. Other than plowing snow, their business slowed to a crawl in the winter, which was why Paul loved those months best of all. By the time the snow came, he was ready to sleep for months.

This fall promised to be extra busy with his brother Alex’s upcoming wedding to Jenny Wilks and their move into the house they’d been building on land near the house where he and Alex had grown up. Paul hadn’t expected to still be living at home in his early thirties, but his mother’s dementia had derailed a lot of his plans, including having a family of his own.

Alex’s relationship with Jenny had given Paul hope that it might still happen for him, too, but he wasn’t holding his breath waiting for Cupid to strike, even if a lot of their friends had taken the plunge in the last few months.

His future sister-in-law had gone so far as to try to fix him up with her friend Erin, the island’s new lighthouse keeper. They’d hung out with Alex and Jenny a few times. He liked Erin and admired her resiliency after losing her twin brother—who had also been Jenny’s fiancé—during the 9/11 attacks on New York City. But he didn’t feel that spark of something extra with her, no matter how much Jenny might love to see both Martinez brothers fall for lighthouse keepers.

It wasn’t going to happen between him and Erin, and she knew it as much as he did.

He’d had drinks a few times with Chelsea, the bartender at the Beachcomber. As much as he liked her and found her attractive, he didn’t get the sense that she was into him that way, so he hadn’t bothered to pursue it.

Every time he got his hair cut at the Curl Up & Dye salon in town, Chloe, the owner, flirted with him. Once he’d suggested they get together sometime, and she’d said she would love to, but it had never happened. Maybe he should’ve taken it a step further and actually asked her out, but something held him back. He suspected that flirting with guys as she cut their hair was part of her professional gig, and she probably wasn’t into him at all.

Women were as vexing to him in his thirties as they’d been in middle school, when he first started to notice the way they looked at him and his brother. He’d been told on more than one occasion that they were good-looking guys. Well, he was, anyway. Alex was kind of ugly when it came right down to it.

Paul laughed at that thought. Some things never changed. He and his brother had been busting each other’s balls for as long as they’d been talking. But Paul gave thanks every day to Alex for coming home to Gansett when things started to get really bad with their mom. Paul had never been so happy to see his brother, who had given up an awesome job and a satisfying life in Washington, DC, to come home to help him run the family business and manage their mother’s illness.

Alex had been extremely unhappy about the changes he’d been forced to make—until he met Jenny and became the happiest bastard on the island. Not that Paul would begrudge his brother the happiness he deserved. However, he couldn’t help but look on with envy from time to time, especially with the lovebirds nesting—among other things—in the room next to his until their house was finished.

Paul had never been more thankful for earplugs and headphones since Jenny moved in with them. Some things a brother just shouldn’t have to hear. He’d trained himself to sleep with music blasting in his ears. The alternative was listening to the two of them go at it constantly.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d gotten laid, so that was contributing to the general malaise that gripped him lately. Living with the gleefully engaged sex fiends had only made him more aware of how long it had been since he’d had sex. How pathetic was it that he couldn’t even remember the last time? Between dealing with his mom’s illness, running the business and serving on the Gansett Town Council, it was all he could do to find the time to sleep and eat every day, let alone think about sex.

But it had been on his mind lately, nagging at him and reminding him that, despite his many responsibilities, he was still a healthy young man with needs. It might be time to call Chelsea or Chloe and get serious about dating again. Now that he and Alex had the help of Hope Russell, the full-time nurse they’d hired to oversee their mother’s care, he was able to have a social life again.

If he’d met Hope under different circumstances, she’d be first on his list of women he’d like to date. But their dad had always hammered home the importance of not dating women who worked for them. Hope wasn’t exactly in the same league as the college girls who worked in their retail store, but the last thing he or Alex needed was to give Hope a reason to leave them. So he kept their relationship friendly, not romantic. But he found himself thinking about the sexy single mom a lot more often than he should for someone who had no plans to pursue her.

As he pulled into the long driveway that led to Martinez Lawn and Garden as well as the family’s home, Paul decided to make it a goal in the off-season to start dating again before he woke up one day to discover he’d missed the chance to find love and have a family. After a brief stop to make sure the retail store was locked up for the night, Paul continued on toward home, where he found Hope’s seven-year-old son, Ethan, sitting on the top step waiting for him.

Paul smiled at the predictable sight of Ethan running toward him, full of excitement and energy that Paul envied. He wished he could bottle the kid’s energy and keep some of it for himself. “What’s the good word, my man?” Paul asked him, as he did every night.

Ethan greeted him with a fist bump that Paul returned. “The good word is school stinks, and I want summer vacation back.”

“Oh, that’s a tough one. Want to help me unload and we can talk about it?”

“Sure.”

“Those aren’t your school clothes, are they?”

“No way. I take that crap off the second I get home. Thank God it’s the weekend.”

Paul had to hide his grin from the boy. He had been exactly the same way when he was Ethan’s age. He’d run home from school, change as fast as he could and wait for his dad to come home to pick him up so he could “help” all afternoon. Thinking about that brought a pang of sadness for the father he missed so terribly.

He and Ethan talked about everything and nothing as they unloaded the tools and equipment from Paul’s truck. He was careful not to give the boy anything too heavy or sharp.

“Can we go check on the pumpkins?” Ethan asked when the truck had been unloaded and the equipment stored in the aluminum shed.

“Sure. Go tell your mom where you’re going.”

Ethan scampered off toward the house, running at full tilt while Paul took a seat on the tailgate of the truck to wait for him. The boy’s interest in the pumpkin patch amused Paul and again reminded him of himself when he’d driven his father crazy for weeks every autumn asking when it would be time to harvest.

“I can’t wait for Halloween,” Ethan said a few minutes later as they crossed the yard to the fields behind the retail store. Off to the far left, Alex and Jenny’s beautiful new colonial-style house was nearly ready for move-in, and not a moment too soon as far as Paul was concerned.

“What’re you going to be this year?”

“I don’t know. I was thinking about a Jedi warrior, but Mom said we might not be able to find a lightsaber on the island.”

“I have one in the attic.”

Ethan stopped short and looked up at him, agog. “You have a lightsaber?”

“Don’t say that like I’m a hundred years old or something. I’ll have you know that Star Wars belonged to my generation long before it belonged to yours.”

“Huh?”

Paul laughed at the face Ethan made at him. He was a cute kid with freckles from the summer sun, dark hair that fell over his brow and big blue eyes that never missed a thing. Ethan ran ahead of him into the field where the pumpkins were growing right on schedule. With a quick glance, Paul could see they were still a dark yellow, but well on their way to the deep orange they would become in a few short weeks.

“Not quite there yet,” he said. “But getting closer.”

“How can you tell?”

“Size and color, my friend. They tell the story. When they’re ready, they’ll be bigger and orange, not yellow.”

“That one there is orange.” Ethan pointed to the one orange pumpkin in a sea of yellow.

“Pick it up for your mom.”

“Maybe she’ll let me carve it.”

“Whatever you do, don’t carve it by yourself. That’s how kids end up at the clinic getting stitches.” Paul could speak from experience about that and had the scar across his left palm to prove it. He pointed it out to Ethan.

“Wow, you got that carving a pumpkin?”

With Ethan struggling under the weight of the pumpkin he’d picked up for his mom, they started walking back toward the house. “Yep. My dad told me to wait for him, but I was in too much of a rush and sliced my hand wide open. My parents totally freaked out because there’s no hospital out here.”

“Was your dad mad?”

“He was after he knew I’d be okay. I got a hell of a talking-to about the dangers of knives and doing what I was told. Tough lesson learned the hard way.”

“I don’t have a dad anymore.”

Paul tried not to show any reaction to that statement. He’d wondered about the boy’s father, but neither Ethan nor Hope had volunteered any information about the guy, and Paul hadn’t wanted to ask. “Neither do I.”

“Yeah, but yours died. Mine’s in jail.”

Paul felt like he’d been sucker-punched. “Oh.”

“Yeah, it sucks.” Spotting his mother on the porch of the Martinez house, Ethan took off running, calling out to her about the season’s first pumpkin.

Paul followed him, still reeling from what he’d just heard. He had so many questions. Why was Ethan’s father in jail? What had he done? Had he hurt Hope or Ethan? God, Paul hoped it wasn’t that. Why hadn’t Hope disclosed the information when they hired her? Were either of them in any danger? Did he dare broach the subject with her, or did he pretend he didn’t know?

Shit, what a dilemma.

Hope was still on the porch when Paul got there a few minutes behind Ethan, who’d gone inside to show the pumpkin to Paul’s mother. Marion adored the boy, and they shared a special bond.

“I hope he’s not driving you crazy,” Hope said, as she did just about every day. She tucked a strand of her reddish-brown hair behind her ear and crossed her arms, the pose almost defensive, as if she were always waiting for disaster to strike. He’d had the thought before, but knowing what he did now, it took on new meaning.

“I enjoy hanging out with him.”

“Still, feel free to tell him to leave you alone if you’re busy.”

“It’s fine, Hope. He’s a great kid.”

“Yeah,” she said, her smile softening her face. “He is.”

“How are things here?”

“Your mom had a tough day. She’s been more confused than usual.”

Paul ran his fingers through his hair as he absorbed that news. “Is that even possible?”

Marion came to the door. “Is that my George home from work? George! Come see what Paul brought home. The first pumpkin of the season!”

Hope sent him a sympathetic smile. After all these weeks of working for them, she certainly knew how difficult it was when his mother regularly mistook him for his late father.

“Hi, Mom, it’s me, Paul.”

Like always, he had to withstand the pain of watching her face fall with disappointment when she realized it was him and not his father. That killed him a little more every day. Sometimes he was tempted to pretend to be his father just to give her a moment’s reprieve, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that to either of them.

“Oh, well, your father will be along soon, then. Come in and get washed up for dinner. You know how hungry Daddy is after working all day. He’ll want to eat as soon as he gets home.”

Paul took the stairs slowly, each step a reminder of the realities of his life.

“George? Is that you?” Marion came back to the door. “Oh, there you are! Dinner is ready! Come in and have a cold beer.”

It took everything Paul had to cross the porch to the front door, to tell his mother once again that he was Paul, not George. They’d stopped telling her that George was dead, because neither he nor Alex could bear to see her relive her painful loss with every new reminder. They’d decided to let her have her illusions if they brought her comfort.

But being constantly mistaken for his late father was taking a toll on Paul—and on his brother, too.

Wearing a towel around his waist and dripping from the shower, Alex materialized out of the hallway where the bedrooms were located. “Hey, Mom,” Alex said. “Come have a seat. Dinner is almost ready.”

“Your dad just got home. Give him a minute to wash up.”

Alex glanced at Paul. “You okay?”

“Sure,” Paul said with a grim smile, “never better.”

Hope followed him inside and went through the motions of getting Marion to the table and cutting her chicken into tiny bites.

Different day, same routine. Sometimes Paul wondered how much more he could take before he’d lose his own mind. But he and his brother had promised their father on his deathbed that they would take care of their mother. And that was exactly what he would do, even if their situation was slowly killing him one painful day at a time.

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