The Hometown Hero Returns Read online

  Much to Mari’s amazement, Brendan had discovered a closet in the basement filled with old board games, mementos and photos and even a few of Mari’s and Ryan’s yearbooks. She hadn’t been the one to clear out the Dearborn family home years ago; Ryan had seen to that. Most of the furniture had been sold at an auction after their parents’ deaths, although she and Ryan had kept some pieces from both homes. Ryan must have brought some of their belongings from Dearborn to Harbor Town years back. It made her a little melancholy to think of her brother carefully storing away those remnants of their childhood.

  “Who did Colleen marry?” Mari asked Marc, who sat next to her on the porch swing.

  “Darin Sinclair.”

  Noticing his hushed tone, Mari glanced over at him.

  “Colleen met him while they were both at Michigan State. Darin was an Army ranger. He was killed in Afghanistan almost two years ago.”

  Mari’s gaze zoomed over to Brendan and Jenny, their blond heads bent over the board game, speaking to each other in low tones. Suddenly Colleen’s children’s adult manners made perfect sense. They’d lost their father so young….

  Maybe Marc noticed her shocked expression, because he grabbed one of her hands in both of his. He rubbed her wrist with a warm, slightly calloused palm. She shivered.

  “I’m sorry I mentioned it,” he said. “I understand Ryan is stationed in Afghanistan. He’s in the Air Force, isn’t he?”

  Mari blinked. “Yes. Ryan’s a Captain…a pilot. He’s stationed in Kabul. He’ll be coming home to San Francisco in two weeks. I’m counting the days.” She put her other hand on top of his, accepting the comfort he offered her without conscious thought. Tears smarting in her eye, she glanced up at him. “I wasn’t thinking about Ryan just now, though. I was thinking… It seems so unfair, after everything Colleen went through as a kid, to have to endure more as an adult.”

  His expression turned grim. The next thing she knew, his arm was around her, and her head was on his shoulder. The porch swing squeaked as they swayed. Mari watched Brendan and Jenny play while Marc stroked her upper arm, and she breathed in his scent.

  “Do you know what I think, Mari?” he asked after a moment. “I think you’ve had enough of cleaning house and being sad. I think you and I need to go to the beach.”

  She lifted her head and looked at him. He wore a small smile, and his expression carried just the hint of a playful dare.

  “I shouldn’t,” she whispered. “I have so much to do.”

  “Like what?”

  Mari hesitated. It would have been a good moment to broach the topic of The Family Center. His mood was so light, though, so warm. She found herself wanting to avoid the weighty subject.

  Or perhaps she was just a coward, and was avoiding having him misunderstand her intentions…judge her.

  She waved lamely toward the house. “I have cleaning to do.”

  “There are better things to do on a gorgeous day like today than dust, Mari.”

  She gave a bark of laughter. Confronted with Marc’s wry challenge, she couldn’t seem to help it. It was so strange to feel this swelling surge of life, like sap rising in an old tree. She’d grown so used to being careful to maintain her control, of walling off the impulsive side of her nature that she only knew existed because of the man who sat next to her.

  “I don’t have a swimsuit,” she said, her gaze locked on his well-shaped mouth.

  “Colleen and Deidre left a dozen suits over the years. I saw them behind the towels in the linen closet. Come on,” he said. “There are still some good times to be had in Harbor Town. The only thing that’s required is that you let them happen.”

  She had a hundred other things to do besides idle away the day on the beach with Marc. Still, part of her clung to the promise in his blue eyes.

  “The real estate agent is going to be here any minute,” she stalled.

  “Perfect. I have some work to finish up before we go. The meeting with the agent isn’t going to take all day, is it?”

  “No, but…” She paused when he gave her a pointed glance.

  “You always get your way, don’t you,” she said softly.

  Her heart squeezed in her chest at the sight of his potent grin.

  “That remains to be seen, but I’m the optimistic type. How about if I pick you up at two?”

  Later that afternoon, Marc waited on Mari’s front porch while she changed into the swimsuit he’d brought. He’d kept his expression impassive when she’d given him a you’ve got to be kidding me look when he’d handed her the bikini.

  “There’s more air than material to this thing,” she’d accused as she’d held up the skimpy bathing suit.

  “What?” he’d asked innocently. “You used to wear bikinis all the time.”

  “I’m not a teenager anymore. Honestly,” she’d scolded.

  He’d glanced over her. “You’ve got even more of a reason to wear a bikini now than you did when you were seventeen, Mari.”

  The roll of her eyes had told him she thought he was full of it, but Marc had only been telling the absolute truth. The vision of Mari naked in the Palmer House Hotel’s room would undoubtedly be burned into his memory until the day he died. Her beauty had matured into the type that could make a man a little nuts, if he let it.

  He glanced up when the screen door opened and Mari walked out onto the porch. Her brown hair was up on her head, but a few wisps of it fell around her flushed cheeks. She wore a red tank top and jean shorts that showed off her long, shapely legs. He let his gaze trail over the sight of bare shoulders that reminded him of smooth honey. His body responded to the sight of her like a cord jerked tight.

  Still. After all these years.

  “All set?” he asked gruffly as he stood.

  She nodded and glanced away. He’d started to get used to Mari’s hesitancy around him—her nervousness. When he saw the color in her cheeks deepen, he wondered if it’d truly been anxiety she’d been experiencing, though.

  He’d already picked up a lunch for them from The Tap and Grill. After he’d stowed it and the canvas bag she carried in the storage receptacles on Liam’s bike, he noticed Mari’s expression.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I’d forgotten we would be—” she waved vaguely at the motorcycle “—you know…using Liam’s bike.”

  He knew what she was thinking, and he thought it was best not to comment. She, too, recalled driving around Harbor Country years ago, the cycle vibrating with power beneath them, Mari pressed so tightly against his hips and back that not even a granule of the white, sugary sand from one of the beaches could have made its way between them.

  He just grinned and handed her a helmet. Her wariness faded when she took in his expression. He was relieved to see her lips curve in amusement. He’d expected her to insist on taking her rental car instead of the bike. She was in the process of fastening the helmet when she paused. Marc glanced up the street where she was staring. He saw his mother standing at the top of the steps of her house. She was watching them.

  “Let’s go,” he said quietly, noticing how Mari’s smile had faded at the sight of Brigit. “That sun is broiling me. I need a swim.”

  He straddled the leather seat. The engine roared to life. He waited while Mari climbed on. When he felt the pressure of her thighs surrounding his and her arms around his waist, he took off down the driveway, the feeling of Mari’s supple body pressing against him, making him forget his mother’s condemning glare.

  “Where are we going?” he heard Mari shout behind him after they’d ridden down Route 6 for ten minutes or so.

  “Tranquil Lagoon. Have you ever been?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “No, it doesn’t sound familiar.”

  “Colleen introduced me to it a couple of years back. Most of the locals don’t even know it exists.”

  After following a serpentine road that branched from the rural highway to a drive that consisted of crumbling concrete and burrowing weeds, Marc sto
pped the motorcycle at the top of a bluff and shut off the engine.

  “We’ll have to walk the rest of the way,” he said.

  He grabbed the two bags and headed down a grassy trail that sloped at a steep angle. Mari slid in her tennis shoes, fell into him and apologized. He turned and took her hand while she righted herself.

  His body buzzed with a sexual tension that was getting increasingly difficult to ignore. He’d told Mari he’d go slowly with her, and he’d do his best to stand by his word. He was a man, not a saint, though. And Mari tempted him like he couldn’t recall ever being tempted.

  He kept her hand in his once she’d steadied herself. They picked their way down the steep, overgrown path. Several large locust, elm and oak trees blocked the view of the lagoon when they reached the bottom of the surrounding dunes. When they broke away from the cover of the trees, he heard Mari gasp in pleasure.

  “Oh, it’s lovely,” she murmured as she stared out onto the horseshoe-shaped body of water. Massive dunes surrounded the inlet on three sides. Its choppy waters a brilliant blue that reflected the cloudless summer sky, Lake Michigan sparkled outside the narrow mouth of the lagoon. The lagoon absorbed both the hue of the sky and the surrounding foliage, making it a deep teal. The placid waters made a perfect mirror for the lush green trees.

  Marc led Mari over to a spit of sand at the edge of the water. No one else was in sight. He set down their bags in the shadow of a large white boulder and whipped off his shirt. Mari did a double take at his rapid disrobing.

  “What? I’m burning up,” he said. Not just from the hot sun, either, he thought wryly as he considered the last quarter of an hour spent with Mari pressed against him, the hum of the motorcycle only increasing his sensual awareness of the woman behind him. He kicked off his shoes and waved at her clothing. “Come on. Don’t tell me you don’t want to take a dip.”

  “I do.” She seemed a little dazed.

  The way she was staring at his chest made him forsake courtesy. He headed toward the lagoon. He needed a slap of cold water against his skin. It wasn’t going to do him any good to stand there and watch Mari strip down to that little bikini he’d brought her, as much as he wanted to do just that.

  He resurfaced from a short swim a minute later and turned toward the shore. He saw Mari standing waist deep in the water and swam toward her. She was smiling at him when he surfaced five feet away.

  “Feels good, huh?” he asked.

  He was captivated by her eyes as she nodded. She had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen—a rare color, like brown infused with amber.

  “It feels wonderful. The water is a little warmer than the lake itself this time of year,” she said and moved her hands as though caressing the surface of the lagoon.

  Marc’s gaze traveled up the path of an elegant arm and lingered on a smooth shoulder. The need to touch her swelled in him, but he refrained.

  With effort.

  “I see the suit fits all right,” he said as he glanced at her breasts, barely restrained behind two scraps of gold cloth.

  “Get that grin off your face, Kavanaugh,” Mari said, rolling her eyes.

  “Am I grinning?” Marc laughed, ruining his innocent look.

  “You know you are.”

  He continued to chuckle as she plunged into the water, covering herself from his gaze. She surfaced several feet away from him, standing in water that covered her from the chest down. She wiped the water out of her face and gave him a censorious look.

  “It’s one of Deidre’s swimsuits,” she said reprovingly. “You know how small she is. One of Colleen’s would fit me much better. Not that I’m telling you anything you don’t know,” she said, giving him a disgusted look.

  “Do you think I notice stuff like that? They’re my sisters, for Christ’s sake.”

  “You never noticed that Deidre is petite and delicate?”

  He snorted. “I don’t know what you remember about Deidre, but my sister is anything but delicate. She’s been known to run into the line of fire and hoist a wounded soldier over her shoulder before carrying him to safety.”

  “She did that?” Mari asked, her eyes going wide.

  Marc nodded, not particularly fond of this latest example of his sister’s reckless bravery. “She won the Army Medal of Honor for it. Thank God, she’s been transferred to Germany, far from active battle.”

  “You must worry about her a lot,” Mari said as she took a step closer.

  “Like you do about Ryan,” he murmured.

  A hush fell over them. A robin twittered in the distance.

  “I’m sorry about the way you found out about Ryan and me fighting after the trial all those years ago,” he said.

  She glanced up at him, her sad, sober gaze tearing at him a little.

  “You weren’t there, Mari. To say emotions were running high during the court proceedings is a huge understatement.”

  “You and Ryan used to be so close,” she whispered. “Sometimes…” She stared at the narrow opening to the blue lake and made a hissing sound of frustration. “What?”

  She shook her head. “I just wish the crash had never happened.”

  “You’re still angry about it.”

  Her gaze shot to meet his. “I didn’t say that!”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if you were. Who wouldn’t be angry about having their parents unexpectedly stolen from them one stormy summer night?”

  He saw her throat convulse as she swallowed. He realized he was holding his breath when she took another step toward him in the cool water.

  “My parents weren’t the only thing I lost,” she whispered.

  Desire sliced through him as he looked down at her face. He held himself on a tight leash, but he didn’t want Mari to know that. Not at that moment, he didn’t.

  “If you’re referring to me, I’m standing right here,” he replied.

  She started, blinked and looked away. “I was referring to you. But I was referring to more than that. I was thinking of my childhood. My security. My belief that everything would always be the same…. That even when things got bad, I’d wake up the next day, and everything would be fresh and new. I lost all of that, that summer,” she said softly.

  “We all did.”

  “I know,” she said quickly. “I know it. I meant to tell you that the other night in the parking lot, but things got out of hand so fast. I never blamed you, Marc. Never. How could I?”

  He shrugged. “Other people managed to. It’s human nature. When the perpetrator of the crime dies along with the victims, people look to the family. Blame has to be cast somewhere.”

  “But that’s ridiculous!”

  “I’m not saying it isn’t. But people need to do something with their anger, with their helplessness.” He shrugged. “I see it all the time in my work. Victims need to find a target for their angst. My mother has lived with that refrain for fifteen years. In the beginning, she got nasty phone calls, hate mail, pranks were pulled. People in town ostracized her. Some of them still do. It hasn’t been an easy road for her. People say she should have been harder on my dad about his drinking. Maybe one of us kids should have stopped him somehow. Maybe I should have. I was old enough. That was what my opponent for the State’s Attorney position thought…and made a point of mentioning about a dozen times during the campaign,” he added wryly under his breath.

  “You’re kidding.”

  He shrugged and glanced away. In all honesty, he’d repeatedly wondered if he might have done something to prevent the crash.

  “You were twenty-one years old,” she whispered. “Please tell me you don’t actually believe any of those allegations.”

  “No. I don’t,” he said after a moment. “My dad was responsible for his actions. Does that mean those criticisms didn’t eat at me at times? Of course not. It’s natural to wonder how you could have done things differently.”

  “How could you have known what your father was going to do on that night? You had your own lif
e. You hardly were thinking about Derry any more than I was thinking of my parents at the time.”

  She’d spoken in a pressured rush. Marc recognized the moment she realized what she’d just said. Color rushed into her cheeks.

  Of course neither of them had thought of their parents that night. They’d been in bed together, their love on the brink of consummation.

  Marc shoved aside the emotion-packed memory with effort.

  “Deidre holds my mother responsible for a lot of what happened with the crash. She thinks my mother was in denial about my father’s drinking problem. That’s why she doesn’t return to Harbor Town in the summer like the rest of us. Actually, Deidre refuses to come to Harbor Town, period.”

  Marc sighed when he saw Mari’s horrified expression. He’d brought her here for a casual outing, a chance for them to reconnect over something besides their volatile past.

  “Let’s not worry about it, okay? Not now,” he murmured.

  He gave in to his need and placed his hands on her damp shoulders. She went still beneath his touch. He slipped a finger beneath the cloth of the swimsuit where it tied around her neck.

  “I just thought the color would look good on you, that’s all.” He noticed her confused expression. “That was the reason I picked this suit. The main reason, anyway,” he said as he watched himself idly stroke her. He met her stare. “Gold—like your eyes and your skin.”

  “Marc.”

  Her breath fell across his lowering mouth. He kissed her softly, and she responded to his coaxing caresses, feeding his desire with a distilled sweetness he associated exclusively with Mari. His muscles tensed when he felt her fingertips touch his chest, her movements striking him as curious but uncertain, featherlight and quick, like ten drops of water scurrying over his skin. It hurt a little to feel his body respond so wholeheartedly to her taste and feel and to have to restrain himself, holding back what seemed so natural and right. When they’d been young, it’d been a serious trial.