The Quinn Brothers

by Nora Roberts

  “I intend to keep Miz Spinelli occupied.”

  Ethan turned around to look at Cam. “You just can’t leave females alone, can you?”

  “What would be the point? They’re here.”

  Ethan only sighed. “Somebody better pick up more beer.”

  Cam volunteered to get the beer late that afternoon. It wasn’t altruism. He didn’t think he could stand listening to Phillip another five minutes. Going to the market was the best way to get out of the house and away from the tension while Phillip drafted and perfected a letter to the insurance company on his snazzy little laptop computer.

  “Get some salad stuff while you’re out,” Phillip shouted, causing Cam to turn back and poke his head in the kitchen where Phillip was typing away at the table.

  “What do you mean, salad stuff?”

  “Field greens—for God’s sake, don’t come back here with a head of iceberg and a couple of tasteless hothouse tomatoes. I made up a nice vinaigrette the other day, but there’s not a damn thing around here to put it on. Get some plum tomatoes if they look decent.”

  “What the hell do we need all that for?”

  Phillip sighed and stopped typing. “First, because we want to live long and healthy lives, and second, because you invited a woman to dinner—a woman who’s going to look at how we deal with Seth’s nutritional needs.”

  “Then you go to the goddamn store.”

  “Fine. You write this goddamn letter.”

  He’d rather be burned alive. “Field greens, for sweet Christ’s sake.”

  “And get some sourdough bread. And we’re nearly out of milk. Since I’m going to be bringing my juicer the next time I get back to Baltimore, pick up some fresh fruit, some carrots, zucchini. I’ll just make a list.”

  “Hold it, hold it.” Cam felt the controls slipping out of his hands and struggled to shift his grip. “I’m just going for beer.”

  “Whole wheat bagels,” Phillip muttered, busily writing.

  Thirty minutes later, Cam found himself pondering the produce section of the grocery store. What the hell was the difference between green leaf and romaine lettuce, and why should he care? In defense, he began loading the cart at random.

  Since that worked for him, he did the same thing through the aisles. By the time he reached checkout, he had two carts, overflowing with cans, boxes, bottles, and bags.

  “My goodness, you must be having a party.”

  “Big appetites,” he told the checkout clerk, and after a quick search of his brain pegged her. “How’s it going, Mrs. Wilson?”

  “Oh, fair enough.” She ran items expertly over the belt and scanner and into bags, her quick, red-tipped fingers moving like lightning. “Too pretty a day to be stuck inside here, I can tell you that. I get off in an hour and I’m going out chicken-necking with my grandson.”

  “We’re counting on having crab for dinner ourselves. Probably should have bought some chicken necks for the pot off our dock.”

  “Ethan’ll keep you supplied, I imagine. I’m awful sorry about Ray,” she added. “Didn’t really get to tell you so after the funeral. We’re sure going to miss him. He used to come in here once or twice a week after Stella passed, buy himself a pile of those microwave meals. I’d tell him, ‘Ray, you got to do better for yourself than that. A man needs a good slab of meat now and then.’ But it’s a hard thing cooking for one when you’re used to family.”

  “Yeah.” It was all Cam could say. He’d been family, and he hadn’t been there.

  “Always had some story to tell about one of you boys. Showed me pictures and things from foreign newspapers on you. Racing here, racing there. And I’d say, ‘Ray, how do you know if the boy won or not when it’s written in I-talian or Fran-say?’ We’d just laugh.”

  She checked the weight on a bag of apples, keyed them in. “How’s that young boy? What’s his name, now? Sam?”

  “Seth,” Cam murmured. “He’s fine.”

  “Good-looking boy. I said to Mr. Wilson when Ray brought him home, ‘That’s Ray Quinn for you, always keeping his door open.’ Don’t know how a man of his age expected to handle a boy like that, but if anybody could, Ray Quinn could. He and Stella handled the three of you.”

  Because she smiled and winked, he smiled back. “They did. We tried to give them plenty to handle.”

  “I expect they loved every minute of it. And I expect the boy, Seth, was company for Ray after y’all grew up and lit out. I want you to know I don’t hold with what some people are saying. No, I don’t.”

  Her mouth thinned as she rang up three jumbo boxes of cold cereal. With a cluck of her tongue and a shake of her head, she continued. “I tell them straight to their face if they do that nasty gossiping in my hearing that if they had a Christian bone in their body, they’d mind their tongues.”

  Her eyes glittered with fury and loyalty. “Don’t you pay any mind to that talk, Cameron, no mind at all. Why the idea that Ray would have had truck with that woman, that the boy was his by blood. Not one decent mind’s going to believe that, or that he’d run into that pole on purpose. Makes me just sick to hear it.”

  It was making Cam sick now. He wished to God he’d never come in the store. “Some people believe lies, Mrs. Wilson. Some people would rather believe them.”

  “That they do.” She nodded her head twice, sharply. “And even if they don’t, they like to spread them around. I want you to know that Mr. Wilson and me considered Ray and Stella good friends and good people. Anybody says something I don’t like about them around me’s going to get their ears boxed.”

  He had to smile. “As I remember, you were good at that.”

  She laughed now, a kind of happy hoot. “Boxed yours that time you came sniffing too close to my Caroline. Don’t think I didn’t know what you were after, boy.”

  “Caroline was the prettiest girl in tenth grade.”

  “She’s still a picture. It’s her boy I’m going chicken-necking with. He’ll be four this summer. And she’s carrying her second into the sixth month now. Time does go right by.”

  It seemed it did, Cam thought when he was back at home and hauling bags of groceries into the house. He knew Mrs. Wilson had meant everything she’d said for the best, but she had certainly managed to depress him.

  If someone who’d been a staunch friend of his parents was being told such filthy lies, they were spreading more quickly, and more thickly, than he’d imagined. How long could they be ignored before denials had to be given and a stand taken?

  Now he was afraid they would have no choice but to take Phillip’s advice and find Seth’s mother.

  The kid was going to hate that, Cam knew. And what would happen to the trust he’d seen swimming in Seth’s eyes?

  “Guess you want a hand with that stuff.” Phillip stepped into the kitchen. “I was on the phone. The lawyer. Temporary guardianship’s a lock. There’s step one anyway.”

  “Great.” He started to relay the conversation in the grocery store, then decided to let it ride for the night. Goddamn it, they’d won two battles that day. He wasn’t going to see the rest of the evening spoiled by wagging tongues.

  “More out in the car,” he told Phillip.

  “More what?”

  “Bags.”

  “More?” Phillip stared at the half dozen loaded brown bags. “Jesus, Cam, I didn’t have more than twenty items on that list.”

  “So I added to it.” He pulled a box out, tossed it on the counter. “Nobody’s going to go hungry around here for a while.”

  “You bought Twinkies? Twinkies? Are you one of the people who believe that white stuff inside them is one of the four major food groups?”

  “The kid’ll probably go for them.”

  “Sure he will. You can pay his next dentist bill.”

  His temper dangerously close to the edge, Cam whirled around. “Look, pal, he who goes to the store buys what he damn well pleases. That’s a new rule around here. Now do you want to get that stuff out of the car or
let it fucking rot?”

  Phillip only lifted a brow. “Since shopping for food puts you in such a cheery mood, I’ll take that little chore from now on. And we’d better start a household fund to draw from for day-to-day incidentals.”

  “Fine.” Cam waved him away. “You do that.”

  When Phillip walked out, Cam began to stuff boxes and cans wherever they fit. He would let somebody else worry about organizing. In fact, he’d let anybody else worry about it. He was done for a while.

  He started out, and when he hit the front door saw that Seth had arrived home. Phillip was passing him bags, and the two of them were talking as if they hadn’t a care in the world.

  So, he’d go out the back, he decided, let the two of them handle things for a couple of hours. As he turned, the puppy yipped at him, then squatted and peed on the rug.

  “I suppose you expect me to clean that up.” When Foolish wagged his tail and let his tongue loll, all Cam could do was close his eyes.

  “I still say the essay’s a raw deal,” Seth complained as he walked into the house. “That kind of stuff’s crap. And I don’t see why—”

  “You’ll do it.” Cam pulled the bag out of Seth’s arms. “And I don’t want to hear any bitching about it. You can get started right after you clean up the mess your dog just made on the rug.”

  “My dog? He’s not mine.”

  “He is now, and you better make sure he’s housebroken all the way or he stays outside.”

  He stalked off toward the kitchen, with Phillip, who was trying desperately not to laugh, following.

  Seth stood where he was, staring down at Foolish. “Dumb dog,” he murmured, and when he crouched down, the puppy launched himself into Seth’s arms, where he was welcomed with a fierce hug. “You’re my dog now.”

  Anna told herself she would and could be perfectly professional for the evening. She’d cleared the informal visit with Marilou, just to keep it official. And the truth was, she wanted to see Seth again. Every bit as much as she wanted to see Cam.

  Different reasons, certainly, and perhaps different parts of her, but she wanted to see them both. She could handle both sides of her heart, and her mind. She’d always been able to separate areas of her life and conduct them all in a satisfactory manner.

  This situation wouldn’t be any different.

  Verdi soared out of her speakers, wild and passionate. She rolled her window up just enough that the breeze didn’t disturb her hair. She hoped the Quinns would allow her a few moments alone with Seth, so she could judge for herself, without influence, how he was feeling.

  She hoped she could steal a few moments alone with Cam, so she could judge for herself how she was feeling.

  Itchy, she admitted. Needy.

  But it wasn’t always necessary, or possible to act on feelings, however strong they might be. If, after seeing him again, she felt it best for all concerned to take a large step back, she would do so.

  She had no doubt the man had an iron will. But so did Anna Spinelli. She would match herself against Cameron Quinn in that respect any day. And she could win.

  Even as she reassured herself of that one single fact, Anna pulled her spiffy little car into the drive.

  And Cam walked out onto the porch.

  They stayed where they were for just a moment, eyeing each other. When he came off the porch and onto the walk, that hard body tucked into snug black, that dark hair unruly, those smoky eyes unreadable, her heart took one helpless spin and landed with a thud.

  She wanted that tough-looking mouth on her, those rough-palmed hands on her. She wanted that all-male body pinning hers to a mattress, moving with the speed that was so much a part of his life. It was idiotic to deny it.

  But she’d handle him, Anna promised herself. She only hoped she could handle herself.

  She stepped out, wearing a prim, boxy suit the color of a bird’s nest. Her hair was pulled up and back and ruthlessly controlled. Her unpainted lips curved in a polite, somewhat distant smile, and she carried her briefcase.

  For reasons that baffled him, Cam had precisely the same reaction he’d had when she’d clipped down her hallway on stiletto heels that rainy night. Instant and raging lust.

  When he started toward her, she angled her head, just a little, just enough to send the warning signal. The hands-off sign was clear as a shout.

  But he leaned forward a bit when he reached her, sniffed at her hair. “You did that on purpose.”

  “Did what on purpose?”

  “Wore the don’t-touch suit and the sex goddess perfume at the same time just to drive me crazy.”

  “Listen to the suit, Quinn. Dream about the perfume.” She started past him, then looked down coolly when his hand clamped over her arm. “You’re not listening.”

  “I like to play games as much as the next guy, Anna.” He tugged until she turned and they were again face-to-face. “But you may have picked a bad time for this one.”

  There was something in his eyes, she realized, something along with desire, annoyance. And because she recognized it as unhappiness, she softened. “Has something happened? What’s wrong?”

  “What’s right?” he tossed back.

  She put a hand over the one still clamped to her arm and squeezed lightly. “Rough day?”

  “Yes. No. Hell.” Giving up, he let her go and leaned back on the hood of her car. It was a testimony to her compassion that she was able to stifle a wince. She’d just had it washed and waxed. “There was this thing at school this morning.”

  “Thing?”

  “You’ll probably get some official report or something about it, so I want to give you our side personally.”

  “Uh-oh, sides. Well, let’s hear it.”

  So he told her, found himself heating up again when he got to the point where he’d seen the bruises on Seth’s arm, and ended up pushing himself off the car and stalking around it as he finished the story of how it had been resolved.

  “You did very well,” Anna murmured, nearly laughing when he stopped and stared at her suspiciously. “Of course hitting the other boy wasn’t the answer, but—”

  “I think it was a damn good answer.”

  “I realize that, and we’ll just let it go for now. My point is, you did the responsible and the supportive thing. You went down, you listened, you convinced Seth to tell you the truth, and then you stood up for him. I doubt he was expecting you to.”

  “Why shouldn’t I—why wouldn’t I? He was right.”

  “Believe me, not everyone goes to bat for their children.”

  “He’s not my kid. He’s my brother.”

  “Not everyone goes to bat for his brother,” she corrected. “The three of you going in this morning was exactly right, and again unfortunately more than everyone would do. It’s a corner turned for all of you, and I suspect you understand that. Is that what’s upset you?”

  “No, that’s piddly. Other things, doesn’t matter.” He could hardly tell her about the investigation into his father’s death or the village gossip over it at this precarious point. Nor did he think it would count in their favor if he confessed he was feeling trapped and dreaming of escape.

  “How’s Seth taking it?”

  “He’s cool with it.” Cam shrugged a shoulder. “We went sailing yesterday, did some fishing. Blew off the day.”

  She smiled again, and this time her heart was in it. “I’d hoped I’d be around to see it happening. You’re starting to fall for him.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re starting to care about him. Personally. He’s beginning to be more than an obligation, a promise to be kept. He matters to you.”

  “I said I’d take care of him. That’s what I’m doing.”

  “He matters to you,” she repeated. “That’s what’s worrying you, Cam. What happens if you start caring too much. And how do you stop it from happening.”

  He looked at her, the way the sun dropped down in the sky at her back, the way her ey
es stayed warm and dark on his. Maybe he was worrying, he admitted, and not just about his shifting feelings for Seth. “I finish what I start, Anna. And I don’t walk away from my family. Looks like the kid qualifies there. But I’m a selfish son of a bitch. Ask anybody.”

  “Some things I prefer to find out for myself. Now am I getting a crab dinner or not?”

  “Ethan ought to have the pot going by now.” He moved forward as if to lead her inside. Then, judging the moment when she relaxed, he yanked her into his arms and caught her up in a hot, heart-hammering kiss.

  “See, that was for me,” he murmured when they were both breathless and quivering. “Want it, take it. I warned you I was selfish.”

  Anna eased back, calmly adjusted her now rumpled jacket, ran a hand over her hair to assure herself it was in place. “Sorry, but I’m afraid I enjoyed that every bit as much as you did. So it doesn’t qualify as a selfish act.”

  He laughed even as his pulse scrambled. “Let me try it again. I can pull it off this time.”

  “I’ll take a rain check. I want my dinner.” With that, she sauntered up the steps, knocked briefly, and slipped into the house.

  Cam just stood where he was, grinning. This was a woman, he thought, who was going to make this episode of his life a memorable one.

  By the time Cam made his way inside and to the kitchen, Anna was already chatting with Phillip and accepting a glass of wine.

  “You drink beer with crabs,” Cam told her and got one out of the fridge for himself.

  “I don’t seem to be eating any at the moment. And Phillip assures me this is a very nice wine.” She sipped, considered, and smiled. “He’s absolutely right.”

  “It’s one of my favorite whites.” Since she’d approved, Phillip topped off her glass. “Smooth, buttery, and not overpowering.”

  “Phil’s a wine snob.” Cam twisted off the top and lifted the bottle of Harp to his lips. “But we let him live here anyway.”

  “And how is that working out?” She wondered if they realized how male the house seemed. Tidy as a pin, yes, but without even a whiff of female. “It must be odd adjusting to the three of you in the same household again.”