As he entered the harbor, he dropped the sails, switched to motor. "First glance at you, I have to figure well-bred, well-educated, career-oriented city woman who likes her wine white and her men at a safe distance. But that's only part of the picture, too."
He cut the engine, let the boat bump gently at dock. Gave her hair a friendly tug before he climbed out to secure the lines. "I think we'll both be well entertained while we uncover the rest of the canvas."
"A continuation of a physical relationship is—"
"Inevitable," he finished, and offered her a hand. "Let's not waste time or energy pretending otherwise. We can call it basic chemistry for now." He tugged her to him the minute her feet hit the dock, and proved his point with one, long fiery kiss. "It works for me."
"Your family won't approve."
"Family approval's important to you."
"Of course."
"I don't discount it either. Normally, this wouldn't be any of their business. In this case, it is." It bothered him, more than a little. "But it's my family, and my concern, not yours."
"This may sound hypocritical at this point, but I don't want to do anything else that will hurt or disturb Seth."
"Neither do I. But I'm not going to let a ten-year-old take charge of my personal life. Relax, Sybill." He skimmed his fingers over her jaw. "This isn't the Montagues and the Capulets."
"I'm hardly thinking of you as Romeo," she said, so dryly that he laughed and kissed her again.
"You might, darling, if I put my mind to it. But for now, let's just be who we are. You're tired." He rubbed his thumb gently under her eye. "You've got thin skin, Sybill, the shadows show. Go take a nap. We can make do with room service later."
"With—"
"I'll bring the wine," he said cheerfully and leaped back into the boat. "I've got a bottle of Chateau Olivier I've been wanting to sample," he shouted over the motor. "No need to dress up," he added with a wicked grin as he maneuvered the boat away from the dock and out of earshot.
She wasn't sure what she would have shouted at him if she'd lost what was left of her control. Instead she stood on the dock in her wrinkled but elegant silk suit, her hair a damp mess and her dignity as shaky as her heart.
cam recognized the signs. A fast sail on a breezy afternoon might relax a man, loosen his muscles, clear his head. But he only knew one thing that put that lazy, satisfied gleam in a man's eyes.
He recognized that gleam in his brother's eyes when Phillip slid up to the dock to toss him the lines. You son of a bitch, was his first thought.
He caught the stern line, yanked it taut. "You son of a bitch."
Phillip only lifted his eyebrows. He'd been expecting that reaction, though not quite so quickly. He'd already ordered himself to hold on to his temper, to explain his position. "Always a friendly welcome at the Quinns'."
"I figured you were past the stage where you thought with your dick."
Not quite as calm as he'd planned to be, Phillip stepped off the boat and stood facing his brother. He recognized the signs, too. Cam was spoiling for a fight. "Actually, I tend to let my dick think for itself. Though we often agree."
"You're either crazy or stupid, or you just don't give a damn. A kid's life is in the balance here, his peace of mind, his trust."
"Nothing's going to happen to Seth. I'm doing everything I can to make sure of that."
"Oh, I get it. You fucked her for his sake."
Phillip's hands shot out, and before the bright fury fully registered he had them gripped on Cam's jacket. Now their faces were close, and both were warrior hard. "You were tearing up the sheets with Anna last spring. How much were you thinking about Seth when you had her under you?"
Cam's fist rammed up, under Phillip's guard. The blow rocked his head back but didn't loosen his hold. Instinct blanked out reason as he shoved Cam back and prepared to tear in.
He swore viciously when Ethan clamped an arm around his throat from behind.
"Cool off," Ethan ordered on more of a sigh than a snarl. "Both of you—or I'll toss you in until you do." He tightened his hold on Phillip's windpipe just enough to show he meant it and scowled at Cam. "Get ahold of yourself, damn it. Seth's had a rough day. You want to add to it?"
"No, I don't want to add to it," Cam said bitterly. "This one doesn't give a good damn, but I do."
"My relationship with Sybill and my concern for Seth are two separate matters."
"Like hell."
"Let go of me, Ethan." Because Phillip's tone was cool and deliberate, Ethan released him. "You know, Cam, I don't remember you being so interested in my sex life since we both had our sights set on Jenny Malone."
"We're not in high school anymore, pal."
"No, we're not. And you're not my keeper. Either of you," he added, shifting so that he could look at both of them. He would explain himself because it mattered. Because they mattered. "I've got feelings for her, and I'm going to take the time to figure out what they are. I've made a lot of changes in my life over the last few months, and I've gone along with what the two of you wanted. But goddamn it, I'm entitled to a personal life."
"I wouldn't argue with that, Phil." Ethan glanced toward the house, hoping Seth was busy with his
homework or his drawings and not spying out the window. "I don't know how Seth's going to feel about this part of your personal life."
"There's something none of you are taking into consideration. Sybill is Seth's aunt."
"That's exactly what I am taking into consideration," Cam shot back. "She's Gloria's sister, and she came in here on a lie."
"She came in here believing a lie." It was an important distinction, Phillip thought. A vital distinction. "Did you read the statement she faxed to Anna?"
Cam hissed between his teeth, hooked his thumbs in his pockets. "Yeah, I saw it."
"What do you think it cost her to put that down in black and white, to know everybody in town would be talking about it, about her, within twenty-four hours?" Phillip waited a beat, noting that the muscle in Cam's jaw relaxed, fractionally. "How much more do you want her to pay?"
"I'm not thinking about her. I'm thinking about Seth."
"And she's the best defense we've got against Gloria DeLauter."
"You think she'll stand up to it?" Ethan wondered. "When push comes to shove?"
"Yeah, I do. He needs his family, all his family. That's what Dad would want. He told me…" Catching himself, Phillip frowned out over the dark water.
Cam pursed his lips, exchanged a look with Ethan, and nearly smiled. "Been feeling a little odd lately, Phillip?"
"I'm fine."
"Maybe you're stressed out some." Since he'd only gotten in one punch, Cam felt entitled to enjoy himself. "I thought I saw you talking to yourself a couple of times."
"I don't talk to myself."
"Maybe you think you're talking to somebody who isn't there." He did smile now, widely and wickedly. "Stress is a killer. Eats at the mind."
Ethan didn't quite swallow a chuckle, and Phillip glared at him. "You got something to say about the state of my mental health?"
"Well…" Ethan scratched at his chin, "you've been looking a little tense lately."
"For Christ's sake, I'm entitled to look a little tense." He threw out his arms as if to encompass the world that too often weighed on his shoulders. "I put in ten, twelve hours a day in Baltimore, then come down here and sweat like a goddamn galley slave in the boatyard. That's when I'm not frying my brains over the books and the bills or playing housewife at the grocery store or making sure Seth doesn't slide out of his homework."
"Always was bitchy," Cam mumbled.
"You want bitchy?" Phillip took one threatening step forward, but this time Cam grinned and spread his hands.
"Ethan'll just toss you off the dock. Me, I don't feel like a swim just now."
"First few times with me, I thought I was dreaming."
Confused, unsure if he wanted to punch Cam or just sit down for a while, Phillip looked back at Ethan. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I thought we were discussing your mental health." Ethan's tone was mild, conversational now. "It was good to see him. Hard to know you'd have to let him go again, but it was worth it."
A chill danced up Phillip's spine, and he put his suddenly unsteady hands safely in his pockets. "Maybe we should be talking about your mental health."
"We figured when it was your turn, you'd head for the therapist's couch." Cam grinned again. "Or Aruba."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes, you do." Ethan spoke calmly, then settled down on the dock, legs