Maybe it had been that one moment, on that hazy afternoon when the leaves were so full and green and the sun already a white-hot ball behind the mist, that had turned the boy toward the man he was now. And Ray had done it with a grin.
He heard the footsteps on the dock but didn't turn. He continued to look out over the water as Phillip stood beside him.
"Most everybody's gone."
"Good."
Phillip slipped his hands into his pockets. "They came for Dad. He'd have appreciated it."
"Yeah." Tired, Cam pressed his fingers to his eyes, let them drop. "He would have. I ran out of things to say and ways to say them."
"Yeah." Though he made his living with clever words, Phillip understood exactly. He took a moment to enjoy the silence. The breeze off the water had a bit of a bite, and that was a relief after the crowded house, overheated with bodies. "Grace is cleaning up in the kitchen. Seth's giving her a hand. I think he's got a case on her."
"She looks good." Cam struggled to shift his mind to someone else. Anything else. "Hard to imagine her with a kid of her own. She's divorced, right?"
"A year or two ago. He took off right before little Aubrey was born." Phillip blew out a breath between his teeth. "We've got some things to deal with, Cam."
Cam recognized the tone, and the tone meant it was time for business. Resentment bubbled up instantly.
"I was thinking of taking a sail. There's a good wind today."
"You can sail later."
Cam turned his head, face bland. "I can sail now."
"There's a rumor going around that Dad committed suicide."
Cam's face went blank, then filled with red-hot rage. "What the f**k is this?" he demanded as he shot to his feet.
There, Phillip thought with dark satisfaction, that got your attention. "There's some speculation that he aimed for the pole."
"That's just pure bullshit. Who the hell's saying that?"
"It's going around—and some of it's rooting. It has to do with Seth."
"What has to do with Seth?" Cam began to pace, long, furious strides up and down the narrow dock.
"What, do they think he was crazy for taking the kid on? Hell, he was crazy for taking any of us on, but what does that have to do with an accident?"
"There's some talk brewing that Seth is his son. By blood."
That stopped Cam dead in his tracks. "Mom couldn't have kids."
"I know that."
Fury pounded in his chest, a hammer on steel. "You're saying that he cheated on her? That he went off with some other woman and got a kid? Jesus Christ, Phil."
"I'm not saying it."
Cam stepped closer until they were face to face. "What the hell are you saying?"
"I'm telling you what I heard," Phillip said evenly, "so we can deal with it."
"If you had any balls you'd have decked whoever said it in their lying mouth."
"Like you want to deck me now. Is that your way of handling it? Just beat on it until it goes away?" With his own temper bubbling, Phillip shoved Cam back an inch. "He was my father too, goddamn it. You were the first, but you weren't the only."
"Then why the hell weren't you standing up for him instead of listening to that garbage? Afraid to get your hands dirty? Ruin your manicure? If you weren't such a damn pu**y, you'd have—" Phillip's fist shot out, caught Cam neatly on the jaw. There was enough force behind the punch to snap Cam's head back, send him staggering for a foot or two. But he regained his balance quickly enough. With eyes dark and eager, he nodded. "Well, then, come on."
Hot blood roaring in his head, Phillip started to strip off his jacket. Attack came swiftly, quietly and from behind. He barely had time to curse before he was sailing off the dock and into the water. Phillip surfaced, spat, and shoved the wet hair out of his eyes. "Son of a bitch. You son of a bitch." Ethan had his thumbs tucked in his front pockets now and studied his brother as Phillip treaded water.
"Cool off," he suggested mildly.
"This suit is Hugo Boss," Phillip managed as he kicked toward the dock.
"That don't mean shit to me." Ethan glanced over at Cam. "Mean anything to you?"
"Means he's going to have a hell of a dry-cleaning bill."
"You, too," Ethan said and shoved Cam off the dock. "This isn't the time or place to go punching each other. So when the pair of you haul your butts out and dry off, we'll talk this through. I sent Seth on with Grace for a while."
Eyes narrowed, Cam skimmed his hair back with his fingers. "So you're in charge all of a sudden."
"Looks to me like I'm the only one who kept his head above water." With this, Ethan turned and sauntered back toward the house.
Together Cam and Phillip gripped the edge of the dock. They exchanged one long, hard look before Cam sighed. "We'll throw him in later," he said.
Accepting the apology, Phillip nodded. He pulled himself up on the dock and sat, dragging off his ruined silk tie. "I loved him too. As much as you did. As much as anyone could."
"Yeah." Cam yanked off his shoes. "I can't stand it." It was a hard admission from a man who'd chosen to live on the edge. "I didn't want to be there today. I didn't want to stand there and watch them put him in the ground."
"You were there. That's all that would have mattered to him."
Cam peeled off his socks, his tie, his jacket, felt the chill of early spring. "Who told you about—who said those things about Dad?''
"Grace. She's been hearing talk and thought it best that we knew what was being said. She told Ethan and me this morning. And she cried." Phillip lifted a brow. "Still think I should have decked her?" Cam heaved his ruined shoes onto the lawn. "I want to know who started this, and why."
"Have you looked at Seth, Cam?"
The wind was getting into his bones. That was why he suddenly wanted to shudder. "Sure I looked at him." Cam turned, headed for the house.
"Take a closer look," Phillip murmured.
when cam walked intothe kitchen twenty minutes later, warm and dry in a sweater and jeans, Ethan had coffee hot and whiskey ready.
He heard the footsteps on the dock but didn't turn. He continued to look out over the water as Phillip stood beside him.
"Most everybody's gone."
"Good."
Phillip slipped his hands into his pockets. "They came for Dad. He'd have appreciated it."
"Yeah." Tired, Cam pressed his fingers to his eyes, let them drop. "He would have. I ran out of things to say and ways to say them."
"Yeah." Though he made his living with clever words, Phillip understood exactly. He took a moment to enjoy the silence. The breeze off the water had a bit of a bite, and that was a relief after the crowded house, overheated with bodies. "Grace is cleaning up in the kitchen. Seth's giving her a hand. I think he's got a case on her."
"She looks good." Cam struggled to shift his mind to someone else. Anything else. "Hard to imagine her with a kid of her own. She's divorced, right?"
"A year or two ago. He took off right before little Aubrey was born." Phillip blew out a breath between his teeth. "We've got some things to deal with, Cam."
Cam recognized the tone, and the tone meant it was time for business. Resentment bubbled up instantly.
"I was thinking of taking a sail. There's a good wind today."
"You can sail later."
Cam turned his head, face bland. "I can sail now."
"There's a rumor going around that Dad committed suicide."
Cam's face went blank, then filled with red-hot rage. "What the f**k is this?" he demanded as he shot to his feet.
There, Phillip thought with dark satisfaction, that got your attention. "There's some speculation that he aimed for the pole."
"That's just pure bullshit. Who the hell's saying that?"
"It's going around—and some of it's rooting. It has to do with Seth."
"What has to do with Seth?" Cam began to pace, long, furious strides up and down the narrow dock.
"What, do they think he was crazy for taking the kid on? Hell, he was crazy for taking any of us on, but what does that have to do with an accident?"
"There's some talk brewing that Seth is his son. By blood."
That stopped Cam dead in his tracks. "Mom couldn't have kids."
"I know that."
Fury pounded in his chest, a hammer on steel. "You're saying that he cheated on her? That he went off with some other woman and got a kid? Jesus Christ, Phil."
"I'm not saying it."
Cam stepped closer until they were face to face. "What the hell are you saying?"
"I'm telling you what I heard," Phillip said evenly, "so we can deal with it."
"If you had any balls you'd have decked whoever said it in their lying mouth."
"Like you want to deck me now. Is that your way of handling it? Just beat on it until it goes away?" With his own temper bubbling, Phillip shoved Cam back an inch. "He was my father too, goddamn it. You were the first, but you weren't the only."
"Then why the hell weren't you standing up for him instead of listening to that garbage? Afraid to get your hands dirty? Ruin your manicure? If you weren't such a damn pu**y, you'd have—" Phillip's fist shot out, caught Cam neatly on the jaw. There was enough force behind the punch to snap Cam's head back, send him staggering for a foot or two. But he regained his balance quickly enough. With eyes dark and eager, he nodded. "Well, then, come on."
Hot blood roaring in his head, Phillip started to strip off his jacket. Attack came swiftly, quietly and from behind. He barely had time to curse before he was sailing off the dock and into the water. Phillip surfaced, spat, and shoved the wet hair out of his eyes. "Son of a bitch. You son of a bitch." Ethan had his thumbs tucked in his front pockets now and studied his brother as Phillip treaded water.
"Cool off," he suggested mildly.
"This suit is Hugo Boss," Phillip managed as he kicked toward the dock.
"That don't mean shit to me." Ethan glanced over at Cam. "Mean anything to you?"
"Means he's going to have a hell of a dry-cleaning bill."
"You, too," Ethan said and shoved Cam off the dock. "This isn't the time or place to go punching each other. So when the pair of you haul your butts out and dry off, we'll talk this through. I sent Seth on with Grace for a while."
Eyes narrowed, Cam skimmed his hair back with his fingers. "So you're in charge all of a sudden."
"Looks to me like I'm the only one who kept his head above water." With this, Ethan turned and sauntered back toward the house.
Together Cam and Phillip gripped the edge of the dock. They exchanged one long, hard look before Cam sighed. "We'll throw him in later," he said.
Accepting the apology, Phillip nodded. He pulled himself up on the dock and sat, dragging off his ruined silk tie. "I loved him too. As much as you did. As much as anyone could."
"Yeah." Cam yanked off his shoes. "I can't stand it." It was a hard admission from a man who'd chosen to live on the edge. "I didn't want to be there today. I didn't want to stand there and watch them put him in the ground."
"You were there. That's all that would have mattered to him."
Cam peeled off his socks, his tie, his jacket, felt the chill of early spring. "Who told you about—who said those things about Dad?''
"Grace. She's been hearing talk and thought it best that we knew what was being said. She told Ethan and me this morning. And she cried." Phillip lifted a brow. "Still think I should have decked her?" Cam heaved his ruined shoes onto the lawn. "I want to know who started this, and why."
"Have you looked at Seth, Cam?"
The wind was getting into his bones. That was why he suddenly wanted to shudder. "Sure I looked at him." Cam turned, headed for the house.
"Take a closer look," Phillip murmured.
when cam walked intothe kitchen twenty minutes later, warm and dry in a sweater and jeans, Ethan had coffee hot and whiskey ready.
