Anna gripped his shoulders in automatic defense. "No dunking."
"Would I do anything that predictable?" His eyes were smoky with laughter. "Especially when this is more fun." He tilted his head and kissed her.
Their lips were wet and slippery, and Anna's pulse thrummed at the sensation of his mouth sliding over hers, then capturing, then taking. The cool water seemed to grow warmer as their legs tangled. She was weightless, sighing as she floated into the kiss.
Then she was underwater.
She surfaced sputtering, shaking wet hair out of her eyes. The first thing she heard was Seth's laughter. The first thing she saw was Cam's grin.
"It was irresistible," he claimed, then swallowed water himself as she flipped onto her stomach and kicked it into his face.
"You're next," she warned Seth, who was so stunned at the idea of an adult playing with him that she caught him easily and wrestled him under.
He struggled, spat out water, swallowed more when he laughed. "Hey, I didn't do anything."
"You laughed. Besides, as I see it, you guys work as a team. It was probably your idea."
"No way." He wiggled free, then got the bright idea to dive and pull her under the surface by the ankle. It was a pitched battle, and when they were exhausted, they agreed to call it a draw. It was only then that they noticed Cam was no longer in the water but sitting comfortably on the side of the boat eating a sandwich.
"What are you doing up there?" Anna called out while she pushed her sopping-wet hair back.
"Watching the show." He washed the ham and cheese down with Pepsi. "A couple of goons."
"Goons?" She slid her eyes toward Seth, and in tacit agreement the foes became a unit. "I only see one goon around here, how about you?"
"Just one," he agreed as they swam slowly toward the boat.
Any idiot could have seen what they had in mind. Cam nearly lifted his legs out of reach, then he decided what the hell and let them pull him back into the water with an impressive splash. It would be hours before it occurred to Seth that Anna and Cam had both had their hands on him. And he hadn't been scared at all.
after the boat wasdocked, the sails dropped, the decks swabbed, Anna rolled up her metaphorical sleeves and got to work in the kitchen. It was her mission to give the Quinn men a meal they wouldn't soon forget. She might have been a novice sailor, but here she was an expert.
"It smells like glory," Phillip told her when he wandered in.
"It'll taste better." She built the layers of her lasagna with an artist's flair. "Old family recipe."
"They're the best," he agreed. "We've got my father's secret waffle batter recipe. I'll have to whip you up some in the morning."
"I'd like that." She glanced up to smile at him and noted what she thought was worry in his eyes.
"Everything all right?"
"Sure. Just some leftover tangles from work." It had nothing to do with work, but with the latest report from the private investigator he'd hired. Seth's mother had been spotted in Norfolk—and that was entirely too close. "Need any help in here?"
"Everything's under control." She finished off her casserole with a thin layer of mozzarella before popping it in the oven. "You might want to try the wine."
Absently Phillip picked up the bottle breathing on the counter. And instantly his interest was piqued.
"Nebbiolo, the best of the Italian reds."
"I think so, and I can promise my lasagna's a match for it."
Phillip grinned as he poured two glasses. His eyes were a golden brown that for some reason made Anna think of archangels. "Anna, my love, why don't you toss Cam over and run away with me?"
"Because I'd hunt you both down and kill you," Cam stated as he stepped into the kitchen. "Back off from my woman, bro, before I hurt you." Though it was said lightly, Cam wasn't entirely sure he was joking. And he wasn't entirely pleased to feel the hot little spurt of jealousy. He wasn't the jealous type.
"He doesn't know a Barolo from a Chianti," Phillip told her as he got down another glass. "You're better off with me."
"Goodness," she said in a passable imitation of their below-the-Mason-Dixon-line drawl, "I just love being fought over by strong men. And here comes one more," she added as Ethan stepped through the back door. "You want to duel for me too, Ethan?"
He blinked and scratched his head. Women confused him, but he was pretty sure there was a joke coming on. "Did you make whatever's cooking in there?"
"With my own little hands," she assured him.
"I'll go get my gun."
When she laughed, he shot her a quick smile, then ducked out of the room to shower off the day's work.
"Jesus, Ethan nearly flirted with a woman." Amazed, Phillip lifted his glass in a toast. "We're going to have to keep you around, Anna."
"If someone will set the table while I put the salad together, I might hang around long enough to let you sample my cannoli."
Cam and Phillip eyed each other. "Whose turn is it?" Cam demanded.
"Not mine. It must be yours."
"No way. I did it yesterday." They studied each other another moment, then both turned to the door and yelled for Seth.
Anna only shook her head. Younger brothers, she supposed, were meant to be abused in such matters. She knew the meal was a success when Seth gobbled up a third helping. He'd lost that alley-cat boniness, she noted. And the pallor. Perhaps his eyes were still occasionally wary, peeking out under his lashes as if searching for the blow that he'd learned too young to expect. But more often, Anna thought, there was humor in his eyes. He was a bright boy who was discovering how to be amused by people. His language was rough, and she didn't expect there would be a great deal of improvement in it as long as he lived in a household of men. Though she did see that Cam booted him lightly under the table now and again when he swore too often.
They were making it work. She'd had strong doubts in the beginning that three grown men, well set in their ways, would find a way of adjusting, of making room. And especially of opening their hearts to a boy who had been thrust upon them.
But they were making it work. When she wrote her report on the Quinn case the following week, she was going to state that Seth DeLauter was home, exactly where he belonged.
"Would I do anything that predictable?" His eyes were smoky with laughter. "Especially when this is more fun." He tilted his head and kissed her.
Their lips were wet and slippery, and Anna's pulse thrummed at the sensation of his mouth sliding over hers, then capturing, then taking. The cool water seemed to grow warmer as their legs tangled. She was weightless, sighing as she floated into the kiss.
Then she was underwater.
She surfaced sputtering, shaking wet hair out of her eyes. The first thing she heard was Seth's laughter. The first thing she saw was Cam's grin.
"It was irresistible," he claimed, then swallowed water himself as she flipped onto her stomach and kicked it into his face.
"You're next," she warned Seth, who was so stunned at the idea of an adult playing with him that she caught him easily and wrestled him under.
He struggled, spat out water, swallowed more when he laughed. "Hey, I didn't do anything."
"You laughed. Besides, as I see it, you guys work as a team. It was probably your idea."
"No way." He wiggled free, then got the bright idea to dive and pull her under the surface by the ankle. It was a pitched battle, and when they were exhausted, they agreed to call it a draw. It was only then that they noticed Cam was no longer in the water but sitting comfortably on the side of the boat eating a sandwich.
"What are you doing up there?" Anna called out while she pushed her sopping-wet hair back.
"Watching the show." He washed the ham and cheese down with Pepsi. "A couple of goons."
"Goons?" She slid her eyes toward Seth, and in tacit agreement the foes became a unit. "I only see one goon around here, how about you?"
"Just one," he agreed as they swam slowly toward the boat.
Any idiot could have seen what they had in mind. Cam nearly lifted his legs out of reach, then he decided what the hell and let them pull him back into the water with an impressive splash. It would be hours before it occurred to Seth that Anna and Cam had both had their hands on him. And he hadn't been scared at all.
after the boat wasdocked, the sails dropped, the decks swabbed, Anna rolled up her metaphorical sleeves and got to work in the kitchen. It was her mission to give the Quinn men a meal they wouldn't soon forget. She might have been a novice sailor, but here she was an expert.
"It smells like glory," Phillip told her when he wandered in.
"It'll taste better." She built the layers of her lasagna with an artist's flair. "Old family recipe."
"They're the best," he agreed. "We've got my father's secret waffle batter recipe. I'll have to whip you up some in the morning."
"I'd like that." She glanced up to smile at him and noted what she thought was worry in his eyes.
"Everything all right?"
"Sure. Just some leftover tangles from work." It had nothing to do with work, but with the latest report from the private investigator he'd hired. Seth's mother had been spotted in Norfolk—and that was entirely too close. "Need any help in here?"
"Everything's under control." She finished off her casserole with a thin layer of mozzarella before popping it in the oven. "You might want to try the wine."
Absently Phillip picked up the bottle breathing on the counter. And instantly his interest was piqued.
"Nebbiolo, the best of the Italian reds."
"I think so, and I can promise my lasagna's a match for it."
Phillip grinned as he poured two glasses. His eyes were a golden brown that for some reason made Anna think of archangels. "Anna, my love, why don't you toss Cam over and run away with me?"
"Because I'd hunt you both down and kill you," Cam stated as he stepped into the kitchen. "Back off from my woman, bro, before I hurt you." Though it was said lightly, Cam wasn't entirely sure he was joking. And he wasn't entirely pleased to feel the hot little spurt of jealousy. He wasn't the jealous type.
"He doesn't know a Barolo from a Chianti," Phillip told her as he got down another glass. "You're better off with me."
"Goodness," she said in a passable imitation of their below-the-Mason-Dixon-line drawl, "I just love being fought over by strong men. And here comes one more," she added as Ethan stepped through the back door. "You want to duel for me too, Ethan?"
He blinked and scratched his head. Women confused him, but he was pretty sure there was a joke coming on. "Did you make whatever's cooking in there?"
"With my own little hands," she assured him.
"I'll go get my gun."
When she laughed, he shot her a quick smile, then ducked out of the room to shower off the day's work.
"Jesus, Ethan nearly flirted with a woman." Amazed, Phillip lifted his glass in a toast. "We're going to have to keep you around, Anna."
"If someone will set the table while I put the salad together, I might hang around long enough to let you sample my cannoli."
Cam and Phillip eyed each other. "Whose turn is it?" Cam demanded.
"Not mine. It must be yours."
"No way. I did it yesterday." They studied each other another moment, then both turned to the door and yelled for Seth.
Anna only shook her head. Younger brothers, she supposed, were meant to be abused in such matters. She knew the meal was a success when Seth gobbled up a third helping. He'd lost that alley-cat boniness, she noted. And the pallor. Perhaps his eyes were still occasionally wary, peeking out under his lashes as if searching for the blow that he'd learned too young to expect. But more often, Anna thought, there was humor in his eyes. He was a bright boy who was discovering how to be amused by people. His language was rough, and she didn't expect there would be a great deal of improvement in it as long as he lived in a household of men. Though she did see that Cam booted him lightly under the table now and again when he swore too often.
They were making it work. She'd had strong doubts in the beginning that three grown men, well set in their ways, would find a way of adjusting, of making room. And especially of opening their hearts to a boy who had been thrust upon them.
But they were making it work. When she wrote her report on the Quinn case the following week, she was going to state that Seth DeLauter was home, exactly where he belonged.
