"Kid, I live for homework. Especially when it's yours." Foolish burst through the door ahead of Phillip, nearly knocking him down with enthusiasm. "You've still got some work to do on that dog." But the mild annoyance faded instantly. He could smell Anna's red sauce simmering, like ambrosia on the air. "God bless us, every one," he murmured.
"Manicotti," Seth informed him.
"Yeah? I've got a Chianti I've been saving just for this moment." He tossed his briefcase aside. "We'll hit the books after dinner."
He found his sister-in-law in the kitchen, filling pasta tubes with cheese. The sleeves of the crisp white shirt she'd worn to the office were rolled up, and a white butcher's apron covered her navy skirt. She'd taken off her heels and tapped a bare foot to the beat of the aria she was humming. Carmen, Phillip recognized. Her wonderful mass of curling black hair was still pinned up.
With a wink at Seth, Phillip came up behind her, caught her around the waist, and pressed a noisy kiss onto the top of her head. "Run away with me. We'll change our names. You can be Sophia and I'll be Carlo. Let me take you to paradise where you can cook for me and me alone. None of these peasants appreciate you like I do."
"Let me just finish this tube, Carlo, and I'll go pack." She turned her head, her dark Italian eyes laughing. "Dinner in thirty minutes."
"I'll open the wine."
"Don't we have anything to eat now?" Seth wanted to know.
"There's antipasto in the fridge," she told him. "Go ahead and get it out."
"It's just vegetables and junk," Seth complained when he pulled out the platter.
"Yep."
"Jeez."
"Wash the dog off your hands before you start on that."
"Dog spit's cleaner than people spit," Seth informed her. "I read how if you get bit by another guy it's worse than getting bit by a dog."
"I'm thrilled to have that fascinating tidbit of information. Wash the dog spit off your hands anyway."
"Man." Disgusted, Seth clomped out, with Foolish slinking after him.
Phillip chose the wine from the small supply he kept in the pantry. Fine wines were one of his passions, and his palate was extremely discriminating. His apartment in Baltimore boasted an extensive and carefully chosen selection, which he kept in a closet he'd remodeled specifically for that purpose.
At the Shore, his beloved bottles of Bordeaux and Burgundy kept company with Rice Krispies and boxes of Jell-O Instant Pudding.
He'd learned to live with it.
"So how was your week?" he asked Anna.
"Busy. Whoever said women can have everything should be shot. Handling a career and a family is grueling." Then she looked up with a brilliant smile. "I'm loving it."
"It shows." He drew the cork expertly, sniffed it and approved, then set the bottle on the counter to breathe. "Where's Cam?"
"Should be on his way home from the boatyard. He and Ethan wanted to put in an extra hour. The first Boat by Quinn is finished. The owner's coming in tomorrow. It's finished, Phillip." Her smile flashed, brilliant and glowing with pride. "At dock, seaworthy and just gorgeous."
He felt a little tug of disappointment that he hadn't been in on the last day. "We should be having champagne."
Anna lifted a brow as she studied the label on the wine. "A bottle of Folonari, Ruffino?"
He considered one of Anna's finest traits to be her appreciation for good wine. "Seventy-five," he said with a broad grin.
"You won't hear any complaints from me. Congratulations, Mr. Quinn, on your first boat."
"It's not my deal. I just handle the details and pass for slave labor."
"Of course it's your deal. Details are necessary, and neither Cam nor Ethan could handle them with the finesse you do."
"I think the word they use, is 'nagging.'"
"They need to be nagged. You should be proud of what the three of you have accomplished in the last few months. Not just the new business, but the family. Each one of you has given up something that's important to you for Seth. And each one of you has gotten something important back."
"I never expected the kid to matter so much." While Anna smothered the filled tubes with sauce, Phillip opened a cupboard for wineglasses. "I still have moments when the whole thing pisses me off."
"That's only natural, Phillip."
"Doesn't make me feel any better about it." He shrugged his shoulders in dismissal, then poured two glasses. "But most of the time, I look at him and think he's a pretty good deal for a kid brother."
Anna grated cheese over the casserole. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Phillip lift his glass, appreciate the bouquet. He was beautiful to look at, she mused. Physically, he was as close to male perfection as she could imagine. Bronze hair, thick and full, eyes more gold than brown. His face was long, narrow, thoughtful. Both sensual and angelic. His tall, trim build seemed to have been fashioned for Italian suits. But since she'd seen him stripped to the waist in faded Levi's she knew there was nothing soft about him.
Sophisticated, tough, erudite, shrewd. An interesting man, she mused.
She slipped the casserole into the oven, then turned to pick up her wine. Smiling at him, she tapped her glass on his. "You're a pretty good deal too, Phillip, for a big brother."
She leaned in to kiss him lightly as Cam walked in.
"Get your mouth off my wife."
Phillip merely smiled and slid an arm around Anna's waist. "She put hers on me. She likes me."
"She likes me better." To prove it, Cam hooked a hand in the tie of Anna's apron, spun her around, and pulled her into his arms to kiss her brainless. He grinned, nipped her bottom lip and patted her butt companionably. "Don'cha, sugar?"
Her head was still spinning. "Probably." She blew out a breath. "All things considered." But she wiggled free. "You're filthy."
"Just came in to grab a beer to take into the shower." Long and lean, dark and dangerous, he prowled over to the fridge. "And kiss my wife," he added with a smug look at Phillip. "Go get your own woman."
"Who has time?" Phillip said mournfully.
"Manicotti," Seth informed him.
"Yeah? I've got a Chianti I've been saving just for this moment." He tossed his briefcase aside. "We'll hit the books after dinner."
He found his sister-in-law in the kitchen, filling pasta tubes with cheese. The sleeves of the crisp white shirt she'd worn to the office were rolled up, and a white butcher's apron covered her navy skirt. She'd taken off her heels and tapped a bare foot to the beat of the aria she was humming. Carmen, Phillip recognized. Her wonderful mass of curling black hair was still pinned up.
With a wink at Seth, Phillip came up behind her, caught her around the waist, and pressed a noisy kiss onto the top of her head. "Run away with me. We'll change our names. You can be Sophia and I'll be Carlo. Let me take you to paradise where you can cook for me and me alone. None of these peasants appreciate you like I do."
"Let me just finish this tube, Carlo, and I'll go pack." She turned her head, her dark Italian eyes laughing. "Dinner in thirty minutes."
"I'll open the wine."
"Don't we have anything to eat now?" Seth wanted to know.
"There's antipasto in the fridge," she told him. "Go ahead and get it out."
"It's just vegetables and junk," Seth complained when he pulled out the platter.
"Yep."
"Jeez."
"Wash the dog off your hands before you start on that."
"Dog spit's cleaner than people spit," Seth informed her. "I read how if you get bit by another guy it's worse than getting bit by a dog."
"I'm thrilled to have that fascinating tidbit of information. Wash the dog spit off your hands anyway."
"Man." Disgusted, Seth clomped out, with Foolish slinking after him.
Phillip chose the wine from the small supply he kept in the pantry. Fine wines were one of his passions, and his palate was extremely discriminating. His apartment in Baltimore boasted an extensive and carefully chosen selection, which he kept in a closet he'd remodeled specifically for that purpose.
At the Shore, his beloved bottles of Bordeaux and Burgundy kept company with Rice Krispies and boxes of Jell-O Instant Pudding.
He'd learned to live with it.
"So how was your week?" he asked Anna.
"Busy. Whoever said women can have everything should be shot. Handling a career and a family is grueling." Then she looked up with a brilliant smile. "I'm loving it."
"It shows." He drew the cork expertly, sniffed it and approved, then set the bottle on the counter to breathe. "Where's Cam?"
"Should be on his way home from the boatyard. He and Ethan wanted to put in an extra hour. The first Boat by Quinn is finished. The owner's coming in tomorrow. It's finished, Phillip." Her smile flashed, brilliant and glowing with pride. "At dock, seaworthy and just gorgeous."
He felt a little tug of disappointment that he hadn't been in on the last day. "We should be having champagne."
Anna lifted a brow as she studied the label on the wine. "A bottle of Folonari, Ruffino?"
He considered one of Anna's finest traits to be her appreciation for good wine. "Seventy-five," he said with a broad grin.
"You won't hear any complaints from me. Congratulations, Mr. Quinn, on your first boat."
"It's not my deal. I just handle the details and pass for slave labor."
"Of course it's your deal. Details are necessary, and neither Cam nor Ethan could handle them with the finesse you do."
"I think the word they use, is 'nagging.'"
"They need to be nagged. You should be proud of what the three of you have accomplished in the last few months. Not just the new business, but the family. Each one of you has given up something that's important to you for Seth. And each one of you has gotten something important back."
"I never expected the kid to matter so much." While Anna smothered the filled tubes with sauce, Phillip opened a cupboard for wineglasses. "I still have moments when the whole thing pisses me off."
"That's only natural, Phillip."
"Doesn't make me feel any better about it." He shrugged his shoulders in dismissal, then poured two glasses. "But most of the time, I look at him and think he's a pretty good deal for a kid brother."
Anna grated cheese over the casserole. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Phillip lift his glass, appreciate the bouquet. He was beautiful to look at, she mused. Physically, he was as close to male perfection as she could imagine. Bronze hair, thick and full, eyes more gold than brown. His face was long, narrow, thoughtful. Both sensual and angelic. His tall, trim build seemed to have been fashioned for Italian suits. But since she'd seen him stripped to the waist in faded Levi's she knew there was nothing soft about him.
Sophisticated, tough, erudite, shrewd. An interesting man, she mused.
She slipped the casserole into the oven, then turned to pick up her wine. Smiling at him, she tapped her glass on his. "You're a pretty good deal too, Phillip, for a big brother."
She leaned in to kiss him lightly as Cam walked in.
"Get your mouth off my wife."
Phillip merely smiled and slid an arm around Anna's waist. "She put hers on me. She likes me."
"She likes me better." To prove it, Cam hooked a hand in the tie of Anna's apron, spun her around, and pulled her into his arms to kiss her brainless. He grinned, nipped her bottom lip and patted her butt companionably. "Don'cha, sugar?"
Her head was still spinning. "Probably." She blew out a breath. "All things considered." But she wiggled free. "You're filthy."
"Just came in to grab a beer to take into the shower." Long and lean, dark and dangerous, he prowled over to the fridge. "And kiss my wife," he added with a smug look at Phillip. "Go get your own woman."
"Who has time?" Phillip said mournfully.
