Chapters (37)
- Copyright
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Epilogue
- Author’s Note
- Celebration After Dark
- You’ll Be Mine
- It’s Only Love
- Who’s Who on Gansett Island
- Other Books by the Author
- About the Author
Protecting Ethan from any further hurt was at the top of her list of priorities. The next time she was tempted to get busy with her boss, it would do her good to remember that. Armed with resolve and determination to get things back to normal, she called the mother of Ethan’s friend to check on him, heard he was having a great time and was told to enjoy a day “off” while the other woman took the boys to the beach. Hope was delighted to hear Ethan was having fun with his new friend, but her day stretched out before her, long and lonely without him around to entertain her.
Reminding herself once again about what was not going to happen with her sexy boss, she crossed the yard to the family’s back porch and stepped inside to fulfill her promise to get Marion up and dressed for the day.
Paul was standing in the kitchen, shirtless, eating a bowl of cereal.
One look at his muscular chest and well-defined abs and Hope’s resolve evaporated. She wanted to touch him and kiss him and do so many other things with him that she hadn’t done in far too long. She averted her gaze and headed for Marion’s room, knocking softly before she stepped inside.
“Good morning, Marion.”
As she did every day, Marion eyed Hope warily. “Who are you? Where’s George?”
“George has gone off to work, but he asked me to help you get up and showered.”
“I don’t need help showering. How dare you be so impertinent?”
Impertinent was one of Marion’s favorite words, and Hope had grown used to hearing about her impertinence daily. “Let’s get you up and about.”
“Who are you? What’re you doing here? Where’s George?”
Marion’s confusion was far worse at the beginning and end of each day. As she did every day, Hope replied to the same question a hundred times without ever losing her patience. Dementia patients didn’t mean it when they were insulting or demeaning or just downright nasty. That was the disease talking, not the perfectly nice people they’d been before dementia struck.
From all accounts, Marion had once been an absolute doll, devoted to her husband and sons and the business they all ran together. Every so often, Hope caught a glimpse of that woman, never more so than when she interacted with Ethan. For whatever reason, the two of them had bonded, and Marion was never nasty to him.
After her marriage ended, Hope had begun keeping a gratitude journal. Marion’s kindness to Ethan had made the list many a time.
“Can I help?” Paul asked from the doorway.
Hope turned to him, relieved that he’d put on a shirt. Speaking of gratitude… “I got it.”
“Are you sure? You’re supposed to have a day free of us today.”