Heat of the Moment

by Robin Kaye

  Butch was almost as tall as Cam, with the same crop of dark hair, the same broad shoulders that tapered to the same thin waist just above a matching tight ass. She’d only checked out Cam’s ass in a purely asexual way. What could she say? She was a nurse and the male anatomy fascinated her.

  When Butch turned and she saw his profile, her breath caught. Butch could be Cam’s double. Cam was a little bulkier in the muscle department, but other than that, the two looked almost identical.

  Butch pushed her backpack out of his way and trudged up the stairs, grumbling about being cock-blocked and the very ill-timed appearance of an ex-boyfriend or ex-husband, and then something about how he hoped the man he’d coldcocked was, in fact, an ex.

  She re-locked the front door and watched his progress to make sure he didn’t disturb Janie.

  Butch turned down the hall toward the only room on that side of the stairs—hers. She waited for him to stumble back out in search of Cam, but he didn’t. Less than a minute later she heard the not-so-soft snore of an inebriated man. It sounded like the snort of a prizewinning steer with a deviated septum through a bullhorn. She crept up the stairs and peeked into her room. The curtains were still open to the street, letting in the faint light from the half moon and illuminating his sleeping form—black leather jacket, boots and all—in her bed.

  Great. Now what was she going to do?

  ***

  Cam unlocked the front door just as the sun began to rise. It had been a textbook electrical fire in a two-hundred-year-old building. Since the business it destroyed was, like so many others, having financial difficulties, they’d called him in.

  He would have been home hours ago had the fire not burned so hot that he’d had to wait for what seemed an eon to get in there to tell them what he and every other firefighter worth their salt knew. Old wiring, damage from a now-fried squirrel, and old wood equaled disaster. The fire had spread through the walls until nothing could be done to save the structure.

  He took off his jacket and his shirt and tossed them and his work boots in the laundry room. He needed a shower and his bed. He might be able to get a couple hours of shut-eye before Janie got up.

  He heard the snoring before he’d taken the first step and laughed to himself. Erin sounded like a four-hundred-pound trucker sleeping off a bender. Her door was open, but with that racket, if he wanted to get any sleep, he’d have to close it. He couldn’t help himself; he looked in. “Fuck.” There, lying spread-eagle on Erin’s bed, was none other than his brother Butch. “Well, shit.”

  Where in the hell was Erin? God, he hoped she hadn’t hightailed it home after meeting Butch. But no, he’d seen her car parked at the curb. He was tempted to grab the spare pillow and smother his youngest brother with it, but first he had to find Erin and divine the multitude of things Butch probably said or did for which he’d have to apologize. He’d never been big on apologies, but this was at least partially his fault. He should have told the guys Erin would be moving in—he just didn’t want them buzzing around like horseflies over fresh meat. What had made him think that giving them keys to his house was a good idea?

  He stuck his head into Janie’s room; she was sleeping soundly, so he quietly closed the door to keep Butch’s snores from waking her. He’d hoped to find Erin on the trundle bed in Janie’s room. No such luck. Maybe she was downstairs on the sofa and he’d missed her.

  He pushed the door to his room open and almost choked on his tongue staring at the sight before him.

  Erin lay asleep on his bed, all bare legs and long arms looking like a living, breathing fantasy. Her hair hid her face and fanned over his pillowcase, just as he’d imagined it would. She slept on her side, a pillow hugged to her chest, and one leg pulled up showing him the edge of a cheek peeking out of what looked like a huge pair of boxers. He must have groaned because she rolled over, brushed the hair out of her eyes, and blinked up at him. “Cam?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry. I didn’t know you were in here.” Looking like a fuckin’ goddess. He knew he should step back, give her some privacy, except his feet weren’t listening to the signals from his brain. Not that he wanted to leave. He’d be more than happy to strip down and join her.

  She sat up. God, she was perfect—sleepy eyed and flushed, with the indentation of a pillowcase crease on her cheek. She looked like she was born to occupy his bed.

  “I’m sorry to sound like one of the three bears, but someone is sleeping in my bed. I think it’s your brother. Butch, is it?” Her voice was low and rough and reminded him of sleepy sex and pillow talk.

  “Yeah, I don’t know whether to kill him or thank him.” Damn, he didn’t mean to say that out loud.

  “I didn’t think you’d be home so soon. I was going to crash on the couch, but I didn’t want to be so far away from Janie in case she woke up. I’ll just grab a blanket and go down.” She’d pulled the pillow in front of her for modesty’s sake. Unfortunately it accomplished just the opposite. With the big pillow covering her clothes, she looked naked, which only encouraged the action going on in his pants. Good thing they were loose.

  “No, go back to sleep. Let me just get a change of clothes. I’ll take the couch. I’m really sorry about Butch. I’ll kill him later.”

  “Don’t worry about it. He fell over my bags downstairs so he’s probably pretty sore from that.” She let out a sexy laugh, rolled over, and curled around the pillow.

  He’d never been jealous of a pillow before. He sure as hell was now. He grabbed his clothes and took one last look at her—her eyes were closed and she wore a smile. He turned and left, closing the door on the temptation and that niggling feeling working its way back up his spine.

  ***

  Erin pulled the pillow to her chest, closed her eyes, and couldn’t think of a better way to wake up than seeing Cameron O’Leary standing shirtless next to her bed, looking down at her. Reality put her imagination to shame. She’d never seen a man look like that without the aid of oil and airbrushing.

  She breathed in the scent of him: a little smoky, a little soapy, and something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on—something intrinsically him. She’d caught a whiff of it the first morning they’d met. It wasn’t aftershave, or soap, or smoke, but something so tempting it made a woman want to get closer.

  When she’d slid into Cam’s bed last night, she’d known he must have just changed the sheets. They had that not-yet-slept-in feel. She didn’t think there was anything better than sleeping between freshly laundered sheets. Since she couldn’t stand having her feet covered, she’d kicked the hospital corners out and fell asleep almost instantly. Maybe it was the crash after the adrenaline rush that she’d had thanks to his wayward brother, but now she wondered if it wasn’t being surrounded by the scent of Cam—calming and exciting at the same time. She wasn’t about to analyze the dreams that came along with sleeping in his bed. Those would give Kendall enough ammunition to have her tied to a therapist’s couch for a year.

  So, okay, she was attracted to Cam. That didn’t mean anything. She was a relatively normal twenty-six-year-old woman with needs that had long been denied. She’d spent the last two years working and going to school. Who had time to date? And really, it wasn’t as if she needed a man in her life. She’d never had one before—not even a father. Sure she’d had boyfriends, but by the time the relationship hit the three-month mark, she was looking for the escape hatch. She had never met a man worth the trouble for anything long-term.

  She had plans for her life, and her plans had no room for a man. She was going to finish her thesis, defend it to the best of her ability, and hopefully find a job that would enrich her life and the lives of those she worked with without stealing little pieces of her soul. She had a plan, and Cameron O’Leary—or any man, for that matter—had no part in it.

  The bedroom door flew open and a small swirl of blue flew in. “Daddy, I can’t find my hat.�
�� Janie jumped on the bed and then sucked in a shocked breath. “Erin, what are you doing here?”

  “Janie, good morning. Your father got called into work after you went to bed last night, so he asked me if I could start my job early. Then your uncle Butch came in and took my room, so I slept here. Your dad’s home now, I think he’s on the couch.”

  “I can’t find my hat. I had it on when I went to sleep—”

  “Your dad put it on one of your teddy bears for safekeeping. He was afraid you’d lose it.”

  Janie lay down on her stomach, kicking her feet up over the tutu that made up the skirt of her Elsa nightgown, swaying from side to side. “Do you want to eat breakfast with me?”

  She’d like to go into her own room and get clothes and brush her teeth, but she had a feeling Butch wasn’t going to be an early riser—at least not today. She could hardly go traipsing around the house in boxers and a tank top. “I’d like to, but your uncle is asleep in my room. I can’t get to my clothes.”

  “No problem.” Janie bounced off the bed, her tutu swirling as she spun around to the closet door. “Just take one of Daddy’s shirts. It’ll be like a bathrobe since he’s so big.” She pulled a blue button-down off its hanger and tossed it onto the bed. “We’ll match.” She pulled a face. “Sort of, but Daddy doesn’t have an Elsa shirt.” Something Erin was sure Cam was happy about.

  “Okay.” She was hungry since she’d skipped dinner. She pulled the shirt on, and then buttoned it up. Janie was right, it was so big, the hem stopped just above her knees. She rolled the sleeves to her elbows, finger-combed her hair, and wished for a toothbrush. Well, she couldn’t have everything.

  Janie grabbed her hand and tugged her down the hall. “Do you like pancakes? They’re my favorite and Daddy said I could have anything I want for breakfast today. I want pancakes.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  After a stop in Janie’s bedroom to find her hat, she took possession of Erin’s hand again. When they entered the kitchen, Cam was at the table reading the morning paper and drinking a cup of coffee.

  “Morning, Daddy.” Janie released her hand and climbed onto Cam’s lap, giving him a hug. “I found Erin sleeping in your bed. She helped me find my hat and now we want pancakes.”

  “You do, huh?” He gave Janie a kiss and set her in the chair beside his before his gaze landed on Erin and took a slow cruise over her body from slouchy socks to her unbrushed hair. “Morning, Erin.”

  “Good morning.” Did he just give her the up, down, and twice over? She tugged on the button band of the shirt she wore and prayed her face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Janie insisted I borrow one of your shirts. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind at all. And I’m sorry again about Butch. I had no idea he’d come in like that. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “Yes, I’d love some. Just point me to the mugs.”

  He set his paper aside and rose. “I’ll get it. It’s the least I can do after what Butch pulled last night. Have a seat.”

  She slid into his chair, careful to tuck the shirt around her upper thighs. “It’s not a big deal. He obviously didn’t know I was here, and by the time I realized who he was, I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t dressed for company. I forgot my robe, or I would have worn it downstairs.”

  Cam smiled at her and she looked away. A throat clearing behind her didn’t cut the tension; it ramped it up.

  Cam’s gaze zeroed in on something over her shoulder and narrowed. She didn’t bother to even look to see who it was.

  “If I had known you were here, I would have shown up earlier. That’s for damn sure.”

  Cam stiffened and set a coffee mug on the table next to her. “Butch, this is Erin Crosby. Erin is the nurse I hired to stay and help Janie for the next month. You woke her when you stumbled in last night and then stole her bed.”

  A slow smile crossed Butch’s face. “I wondered why I dreamed I was sleeping in a cloud of lavender. I didn’t think Cam started washing the sheets with lavender-scented detergent. I have to say, it was a real improvement. If I had known the bed was yours, I wouldn’t have taken over the whole thing.” He winked at her. “I like sharing.”

  Janie shook her head. “Erin just slept in Daddy’s bed.”

  Butch raised an eyebrow. “Lucky him.”

  Cam slid a hand along Janie’s shoulder. “Yes, when I got home this morning, I took the couch. Where’s your car?”

  “In Cambridge. I took a cab last night.” He examined his slightly swollen hand. “I was hoping you could give me a ride over there.”

  “No can do. I’m on call. I’d be happy to give you bus fare if you’re short on cash. The bus stops at the corner.” He checked his watch. “I think you have just under ten minutes to get there. You wouldn’t want to miss it.”

  Butch leaned closer and Erin slid back in her seat. “He’s just mad that he had to sleep on the couch and he’s taking it out on me. It’s rough being the younger, better-looking brother, you know.” Butch snatched Cam’s coffee cup right out of his hand, took a leisurely sip, let out a satisfied groan, and then brought his attention back to her. “Jealousy is such an ugly thing.”

  When Erin spotted Cam’s indulgent smile, she relaxed. “I wouldn’t know. Are you finished upstairs?”

  Butch nodded but stood in the doorway of the kitchen, so if she wanted to leave, she’d have to slide by him.

  Erin looked from Cam to Butch, marveling at the fact that two men who looked so much alike could be so very different. Not that she knew Cam well, but she’d bet her last cent he’d never had such a laissez-faire attitude. “If you are done, I think I’ll just head up. It was nice meeting you, Butch.”

  “The pleasure’s been all mine. Oh, and Erin? Was that toothbrush in the cup by the sink yours by any chance?”

  Cam shook his head and blew out a stream of air tinged with strained irritation. “Of course it was hers. It was in her bathroom, you dolt.” Cam met her eyes apologetically. “I’m sorry. There’s a spare in the drawer. I’ll replace yours when we hit the store.” He took his coffee from his brother, set it down, and looked at Janie. “Say good-bye to Uncle Butch. He’s leaving.”

  “Bye, Uncle Butch.”

  Butch feigned being dragged away by the throat, leaving Janie giggling.

  Cam cupped his hand around Erin’s elbow. “Why don’t you sit and finish your coffee? I’ll be right back to make you both breakfast after I walk Butch out. It won’t take a minute.”

  Erin returned to her seat and watched Cam usher his brother from the kitchen, the slam of the front door the only sign of any discontent.

  Chapter Four

  Cam marched his brother out the door and slammed it behind him. “What in the hell were you thinking coming here, probably drunk based on the sound of your snores and the fact that Erin witnessed you fall flat on your face—”

  “I didn’t fall on my face, I fell backward—you really should do something about that mess next to the door.”

  “You think it’s okay to stroll into my house, drunk, in the middle of the night with no warning?”

  Butch smiled at him like a kid at church with a frog in his pocket. “I believe the only thought I had was that taking a cab to your house was a lot easier than getting a train to Portsmouth and cheaper than a hotel room. If I had known nurse Ellen was warming your bed—”

  “Her name is Erin and she was warming her own bed until you woke her and then passed out on it. It’s a wonder she didn’t call the police or take off. The only reason Erin slept in my room was to be close to Janie.”

  Butch leaned against the garage and patted his pocket for a pack of nonexistent cigarettes. “Knowing your way with women, that’s probably the God’s honest truth.” He may have quit smoking three years ago but not the habit of searching for his pack. “I’ve always said you have all the luck—not th
at you take advantage of it. More’s the pity, but damn, where in the hell did you find her? Fantasies “R” Us? Wasn’t that your shirt she was wearing?”

  “The only reason she’s wearing my shirt is because she couldn’t get her own clothes.”

  “Like I said, you have all the luck. But now that she’s met me—that might change.”

  “Not if you value your life, it won’t. Erin’s here to take care of Janie and that’s all.”

  “So, you’re calling dibs then?”

  “She’s my employee.”

  “And she’s living in your house for the next month.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Hell, even a guy like you should be able to crack that lock in a month.” He patted his other pocket and fished something out. “Here, looks like you might need these.” He palmed a string of condoms and shoved them in Cam’s hand, forcing his fingers closed around them. “It’s been so long, the ones you might have stashed away are probably past their expiration date. And as much as I adore my niece, the next time you have a kid, I’d prefer it if the mother hung around, you know? Especially with your predilection for having colicky babies. My sex life suffered immeasurably during those months of Janie’s screaming.”

  “Erin is a nurse, going for her master’s.”

  “Really? That’s impressive. It’s nice to know she has a brain as well as a wicked amazing body. Janie even seems to like her—and Lord knows she’s a huge improvement over Mrs. Truman.”

  Cam wanted to throttle him.

  “So okay, you’re good then? Need any dating advice from your little brother? Someone who has actually dated in the last few years.”

  Cam blew out a breath, wondering why he bothered. Nothing he could say would make Butch believe he wasn’t trying to get into Erin’s pants—or boxers as the case may be. “If you don’t get a move on, you’re going to miss the bus, and I’m not driving your sorry ass back to Cambridge.”