With a new wife and young family, Mac had been hesitant to take on the responsibility of running the marina on his own. So Big Mac offered to make Luke a partner. After Luke had been assured that none of the other four McCarthy siblings had any interest in the business, he’d accepted Big Mac’s offer of forty percent. Luke and Mac each had forty, and Big Mac retained twenty in case one of his other kids changed their minds and wanted in.

Luke still had to remind himself every now and then that he actually owned a big chunk of the profitable marina where he’d worked since he was fourteen. Flipping off the porch light, he closed and locked the door, leaning against it for a moment to collect himself.

Sydney Donovan was in his bed. Too bad it had to happen this way.

Chapter 9

Sydney woke with a start, unsure of where she was. As usual, Buddy was snuggled up to her but so was someone else. The pillow smelled like Luke, clean and fresh and citrusy. She was in Luke’s bed. With Luke and Buddy. The whole thing rushed back to her like a horror movie—the bright lights, the truck swerving, Luke’s cry of distress. After that, it all went murky.

“You’re okay,” Luke said softly. “I’m right here.”

Comforted by the sound of his voice as much as his words, she turned to him, groaning when the hips and pelvis she’d injured in the accident fifteen months ago protested. “What time is it?”

He checked the illuminated face of his watch. “Two thirty.”

“How’d we get here?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Not much after. . .”

He smoothed a hand over her hair and kissed her forehead. “You were upset, so Mac came and drove us here.”

She winced at the thought of her friend’s husband seeing her unglued. “Where did Buddy come from?”

“I sent Mac to get him. I knew you wouldn’t want him home alone all night, and I figured he might bring you comfort when you woke up.”

“Thank you for thinking of that.” She brushed a hand over his face. “You had a special night planned. I’m sorry—”

Leaning a finger on her lips, he stopped her. “Please don’t apologize.” He hugged her tight, and she rested her face against his chest. His skin was warm, and the light dusting of chest hair was soft against her face.

Steeped in his familiar scent, Sydney closed her eyes and absorbed the comfort of his embrace as his heart beat fast under her ear.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked after a long period of silence.

She closed her eyes even tighter, as if she was trying to stem the flood of new tears.

“You don’t have to,” he said, sounding alarmed.