Free Season for Love by Marie Force

get you and the little guy fed,” he said.
     
    Grant McCarthy was rarely intimidated, but Stephanie’s stepfather, Charlie Grandchamp, intimidated the hell out of him. It had taken Grant days to work up the nerve to drive out to the small house Charlie had rented from the island’s resident land baron/cab driver, Ned Saunders. The media attention following Charlie’s release from fourteen years of wrongful imprisonment had driven him to the island, seeking peace and quiet—and the chance to be closer to the stepdaughter who’d been so relentless in her efforts to get him released.
    Grant parked the motorcycle he’d borrowed from his brother Mac in the yard and took a deep breath for courage before walking up to the open front door and knocking.
    No answer.
    Great . I finally make it out here, and he’s not around . Spotting the other man’s small pickup truck, Grant walked behind the house to the barn that served as a workshop and garage. “Hey, Charlie?”
    “In here.”
    Grant swallowed hard and stepped into the dusty space that smelled of dirt and mildew and other substances he didn’t try too hard to identify. Charlie was bent over the workbench, sanding a block of wood. He was tall and muscular with a gray buzz cut and a piercing blue-eyed stare that Grant found unnerving—particularly since it was often directed his way. “Um, how’s it going?”
    “Fine.”
    Since his release, Grant had learned his girlfriend’s stepfather was a man of few words, especially where Grant was concerned.  
    “Something on your mind?” Charlie asked.
    “Ah, well, Stephanie, actually.”
    That got Charlie’s attention. He spared Grant a brief glance before he returned his attention to the project on the bench. “What about her?”
    “I, um, you know we’ve been together for a while now.”
    “Coupla months,” Charlie said with a harsh chuckle. “Does that count as a while these days?”
    Grant had no idea what to say to that. He decided to go with the truth. “She has a lot of insecurities because of everything that happened when she was younger. We tend to argue, from time to time, and to me it’s part of the fun of being with her. For her, though, it’s upsetting. More than it should be. I’ve been thinking about how I could make her feel more secure. About me. About us.”
    “And what’ve you come up with?”
    “I’d like to ask her to marry me.” Grant met that steely stare, determined not to blink. He almost succeeded. “Before you tell me why it’s a terrible idea, let me assure you that we wouldn’t get married right away. I want her to know I’m in it for keeps so she won’t get that haunted look on her face whenever we disagree about something.”
    “I know that look.”
    It was the first thing Charlie had ever said to him that didn’t make Grant feel like the guy hated him for being alive.  
    “What?” Charlie asked. “Are you surprised I know what you’re talking about? I looked at that face every week for years when she came to see me in prison, and that line between her brows tore me up as much as it tears you up.”
    With that one statement, he tripled the number of words he’d said to Grant in their brief acquaintance. Grant cleared his throat. “I want her to know I’m not going anywhere without her. Not now. Not ever.”
    Charlie ran the sandpaper back and forth over the block of wood while Grant stood twisting in the wind, waiting for the other man to say something. Anything. Without looking at Grant, he finally said, “You love her? Really, really love her?”
    “Yeah,” Grant said. “I really, really do.”
    “What if she decides she doesn’t want to live here on the island? What if she wants to go home to Providence and open the restaurant she’s always talked about?”
    She’d talked about a restaurant? To whom? Not to him. Stunned to hear that, Grant forced himself to focus. “We’ll go to Providence, if that’s what she wants. I can work anywhere.” His