"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."
"Well, we haven't killed each other." Cam bared his teeth in a smile at his brother. "Yet." With a laugh she walked to the window. "And where is Seth?"
"He's with Ethan," Phillip told her. "They're doing the crabs around at the pit."
"The pit?"
"Around the side." Cam took her hand and tugged her toward the door. "Mom wouldn't let us cook crab in the house. She might have been a doctor, but she could be squeamish. Didn't like to watch." He drew her off the porch and down the steps as he spoke. "Dad had this brick pit around the side of the house. Fell down my first summer. He didn't know much about laying bricks. But we rebuilt it." When they stepped around the corner, she saw Ethan and Seth standing by a huge kettle over an open fire in a lopsided brick-sided pit. Smoke billowed, and from a big steel barrel on the ground came the scraping and clattering of claws.
Anna looked from barrel to kettle and back again. "You know what, I think I can be a bit squeamish myself."
She stepped back, turned to the view of the water. She didn't even mind that Cam laughed at her, especially when she heard Seth's voice raised in desperate excitement.
"Are you dumping them in now? Oh, man, shit, that is sogross ."
"I told him to watch his mouth tonight, but he doesn't know you're here yet." She only shook her head. "He sounds very normal." She winced a little when she heard a clatter and Seth's wild exclamation of delight and disgust. "And I'd think what's happening around the corner is just barbaric enough to thrill him." Her hand lifted quickly, protectively, to her hair when she felt a tug.
"I like it down." Cam tossed the pin he'd pulled out aside.
"I want it up," she said mildly and began to walk toward the water.
"I bet we're going to knock heads about all kinds of things." He sipped his beer and sent her a sidelong look as they walked. "Ought to keep it all interesting."
"I doubt either of us will be bored. Seth comes first, Cam. I mean that." She paused, listened to the musical lap of water against the hull of the boats, the sloping shoreline. Topping one of the markers was a huge nest. Buoys bobbed in the tide.
"I can help him, and it's unlikely we'll always agree on what's right for him. It'll be essential to keep that issue completely separate when we end up in bed."
He was grateful he hadn't taken another sip from the bottle. No doubt in his mind he'd have choked on it. "I can do that."
She lifted her head as an egret soared by, and wondered if the nest belonged to her. "When I'm certain I can, we'll use my bed. My apartment's more private than your house."
He rubbed a hand over his stomach in a futile attempt to calm himself. "Lady, you're right up front, aren't you?"
"What's the point in being otherwise? We're grownups, unattached." She shot him a look—a flick of the lashes, an arch of a brow. "But if you're the type who'd prefer me to pretend reluctance until seduction, sorry."
"No, I'm all right with it this way." If he didn't overheat and explode in the meantime. "No games, no pretenses, no promises… Where the hell do you come from?" he finished, fascinated.
"Pittsburgh," she said easily and started back toward the house.
"That's not what I meant."
"I know. But if you intend to sleep with me, you should have some interest in the basic facts. No games, no pretenses, no promises. That's fine. But I don't have sex with strangers." He put a hand on her arm before she wandered too close to the house. He wanted another moment alone. "Okay, what are the basic facts?''
"I'm twenty-eight, single, of Italian descent. My mother… died when I was twelve and I was raised primarily by my grandparents."
"In Pittsburgh."
"That's right. They're wonderful—old-fashioned, energetic, loving. I can make a terrific red sauce from scratch—the recipe's been passed down in my family for generations. I moved to D.C. right after college, worked there and did some graduate studies. But Washington didn't suit me."
"Too political?"
"Yes, and too urban. I was looking for something a little different, so I ended up down here." Cam glanced around the quiet yard, the quiet water. "It's different from D.C., all right."
"I like it. I also like horror novels, sappy movies, and any kind of music except jazz. I read magazines from back to front and don't know why, and though I'm comfortable with all sorts of people, I don't particularly like large social functions."
She stopped, considered. They would see, she decided, how much more he'd want to find out. "I think that's enough for now, and my glass is nearly empty."
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."
"Well, we haven't killed each other." Cam bared his teeth in a smile at his brother. "Yet." With a laugh she walked to the window. "And where is Seth?"
"He's with Ethan," Phillip told her. "They're doing the crabs around at the pit."
"The pit?"
"Around the side." Cam took her hand and tugged her toward the door. "Mom wouldn't let us cook crab in the house. She might have been a doctor, but she could be squeamish. Didn't like to watch." He drew her off the porch and down the steps as he spoke. "Dad had this brick pit around the side of the house. Fell down my first summer. He didn't know much about laying bricks. But we rebuilt it." When they stepped around the corner, she saw Ethan and Seth standing by a huge kettle over an open fire in a lopsided brick-sided pit. Smoke billowed, and from a big steel barrel on the ground came the scraping and clattering of claws.
Anna looked from barrel to kettle and back again. "You know what, I think I can be a bit squeamish myself."
She stepped back, turned to the view of the water. She didn't even mind that Cam laughed at her, especially when she heard Seth's voice raised in desperate excitement.
"Are you dumping them in now? Oh, man, shit, that is sogross ."
"I told him to watch his mouth tonight, but he doesn't know you're here yet." She only shook her head. "He sounds very normal." She winced a little when she heard a clatter and Seth's wild exclamation of delight and disgust. "And I'd think what's happening around the corner is just barbaric enough to thrill him." Her hand lifted quickly, protectively, to her hair when she felt a tug.
"I like it down." Cam tossed the pin he'd pulled out aside.
"I want it up," she said mildly and began to walk toward the water.
"I bet we're going to knock heads about all kinds of things." He sipped his beer and sent her a sidelong look as they walked. "Ought to keep it all interesting."
"I doubt either of us will be bored. Seth comes first, Cam. I mean that." She paused, listened to the musical lap of water against the hull of the boats, the sloping shoreline. Topping one of the markers was a huge nest. Buoys bobbed in the tide.
"I can help him, and it's unlikely we'll always agree on what's right for him. It'll be essential to keep that issue completely separate when we end up in bed."
He was grateful he hadn't taken another sip from the bottle. No doubt in his mind he'd have choked on it. "I can do that."
She lifted her head as an egret soared by, and wondered if the nest belonged to her. "When I'm certain I can, we'll use my bed. My apartment's more private than your house."
He rubbed a hand over his stomach in a futile attempt to calm himself. "Lady, you're right up front, aren't you?"
"What's the point in being otherwise? We're grownups, unattached." She shot him a look—a flick of the lashes, an arch of a brow. "But if you're the type who'd prefer me to pretend reluctance until seduction, sorry."
"No, I'm all right with it this way." If he didn't overheat and explode in the meantime. "No games, no pretenses, no promises… Where the hell do you come from?" he finished, fascinated.
"Pittsburgh," she said easily and started back toward the house.
"That's not what I meant."
"I know. But if you intend to sleep with me, you should have some interest in the basic facts. No games, no pretenses, no promises. That's fine. But I don't have sex with strangers." He put a hand on her arm before she wandered too close to the house. He wanted another moment alone. "Okay, what are the basic facts?''
"I'm twenty-eight, single, of Italian descent. My mother… died when I was twelve and I was raised primarily by my grandparents."
"In Pittsburgh."
"That's right. They're wonderful—old-fashioned, energetic, loving. I can make a terrific red sauce from scratch—the recipe's been passed down in my family for generations. I moved to D.C. right after college, worked there and did some graduate studies. But Washington didn't suit me."
"Too political?"
"Yes, and too urban. I was looking for something a little different, so I ended up down here." Cam glanced around the quiet yard, the quiet water. "It's different from D.C., all right."
"I like it. I also like horror novels, sappy movies, and any kind of music except jazz. I read magazines from back to front and don't know why, and though I'm comfortable with all sorts of people, I don't particularly like large social functions."
She stopped, considered. They would see, she decided, how much more he'd want to find out. "I think that's enough for now, and my glass is nearly empty."
