Cam leaned lazily against the doorjamb and yelled, "Come on, Anna, they're just fooling around."
At the mention of her name, Seth and Jake rolled apart and shot twin looks of panic and guilt toward the doorway. "Got you," Cam barked with amusement. "That was cold, Dad."
"That's how to win a battle without a single blow. You." He pointed at Seth. "Let's go."
"Where ya going?" Jake demanded, scrambling up. "Can I go?"
"Have you cleaned your room, done your homework, found the cure for cancer and changed the oil in my car?"
"Come on, Dad," Jake whined.
"Seth, grab some beer and head outside. I'll be right along."
"Sure. Later, kid"—Seth tapped a fist in his palm—"I'm taking you out."
"You couldn't take me out if you brought me flowers and a box of chocolate."
"Good one," Cam commented as Seth snorted out a laugh and left the room.
"I've been saving it," Jake told him. "How come I can't go with you guys?"
"I need to talk to Seth."
"Are you mad at him?"
"Do I look mad at him?"
"No," Jake said after a careful study of his father's face. "But you can be sneaky about that stuff."
"I just need to talk to him."
Jake jerked a shoulder, but Cam saw the disappointment in his eyes—Anna's Italian eyes—before he plopped back on the floor and reached for his joystick.
Cam squatted. "Jake." He caught the scent of bubble gum and youthful sweat. There were grass stains on the knees of Jake's jeans. His shoes were untied.
It struck him unexpectedly, as it often did, that staggering slap of emotion that was love and pride and puzzlement rolled into one strong fist against his heart.
"Jake," he said again and ran his hand over his son's hair. "I love you."
"Jeez." Jake hunched his shoulders and, with his chin tucked, shifted his gaze up to meet his father's. "I know, and stuff."
"I love you," Cam repeated. "But when I get back, there's going to be a bloody coup, and a new king in Quinnland. And believe what I'm saying, you will bow to me."
"You wish."
Cam rose, pleased with the cocky expression on Jake's face. "Your days of rule are numbered. Start praying, pal."
"I'll pray that you don't slobber on me when you're begging for mercy."
He had to admit, Cam decided as he walked toward the back door, he'd raised a bunch of wiseasses. It did a man proud.
"What's up?" Seth asked, tossing Cam a beer as he swung out the back door.
"Gonna take a little sail."
"Now?" Automatically, Seth looked up at the sky. "It'll be dark in an hour."
"Afraid of the dark, Mary?" Cam sauntered to the dock, stepped nimbly into the day sailer. He set the beer aside while Seth cast off.
As he had countless times in the past, Seth lifted the oar to push away from the dock. He hoisted the main, and the sound of the canvas rising was sweet as music. Cam manned the rudder, finessing the wind so they glided, smooth and nearly silent, away from shore.
The sun was low, its beams striking the water, sheening the marsh grass, dying in the narrow channels where the shadows went deep and the water went dark and secret.
They motored through, maneuvering between markers, down the river, through the sound. And into the Bay. Balanced to the sway, Seth hoisted the jib, trimmed the sails. And Cam caught the wind.
They flew in the wooden boat with its bright work glinting and its sails white as dove's wings. There was salt in the air, and the thrilling roll, that rise and fall of waves as deeply blue as the sky.
The speed, the freedom, the absolute joy of skating over the water while the sun went soft toward twilight drained every worry, every doubt, every sorrow from Seth's heart.
"Coming about," Cam called out, setting to tack to steal more wind, steal more speed.
For the next fifteen minutes, they barely spoke.
When they slowed, Cam stretched out his legs and popped the top on his beer. "So, what's going on with you?"
"Going on?"
"Anna's radar tells her something's up with you, and she nagged me into finding out what it is."
Seth bought some time by opening his own beer, taking the first cold sip. "I've just been back a couple weeks, so I've got a lot on my mind, that's all. Figuring things out, settling in, that kind of thing. She doesn't have to worry."
"I'm supposed to go back and tell her she doesn't have to worry? Oh yeah, that'll go down real smooth." He took another drink. "Look, we don't have to go through all that you-know-you-can-talk-to-me-about-anything crap, do we? Going that route's only going to make us both feel like morons."
"No." But it worked a smile out of Seth. "Just tell her I'm thinking about what happens next. I've got to get a place of my own sooner or later. My rep's bugging me about putting together another showing, and I'm not sure what direction I want to take there. I haven't even finished putting the studio together yet."
"Uh-huh." Cam glanced toward shore, and the pretty old house tucked back on the banks of the river.
When Seth followed the look, he shifted in the bow. He'd been so wrapped up in the sail, he hadn't noticed the direction.
"Sexy flower queen's not home yet," Cam commented. "Maybe she's got a date."
"She doesn't date."
"Is that why you haven't moved on her yet?"
"Who says I haven't?"
Cam only laughed, sipped beer. "If you had, kid, you'd look a hell of a lot more relaxed."
Got me there, Seth thought, but shrugged.
"In fact, I can drop you off here. You can try the 'I was just in the neighborhood so can I come in and get you naked' gambit."
"That one ever work for you?"
"Ah." Cam let out a long, wistful sigh, stared up at the sky as if into deep, dreamy memories. "The stories I could tell. The way I figure it, the more a guy gets sex, the more he thinks about it. And the less a guy gets sex, the more he thinks about it. But at least when he's getting it, he sleeps better."
Seth patted his pockets. "Got a pen? I want to write that one down."
"She's a very tasty morsel."
Amusement fled. "She's not a fucking snack."
"Okay." Having nailed the answer he wanted, Cam nodded. "I wondered if you were really tangled up about her."
Seth hissed out a breath, looked back toward the fanciful blue house tucked among the trees until it was out of sight. "I don't know what I am. I've got to get my life settled, and until I do, I don't have time for… tangles. But I look at her and…" He shrugged. "I can't figure it out. I like being around her. Not that she's easy. Half the time it's like dealing with a porcupine. One in a tiara."
"Women without spines are fine for a one-nighter, or a good time. But wh
en you're looking for the long haul…"
Shock and panic erupted on Seth's face. "I didn't say that. I just said I liked being around her."
"And you got puppy eyes when you said it."
"Bullshit." And the fact that he could feel the heat of a flush working up his neck mortified him. He could only hope the light was too dim for Cam to spot it.
"Another minute, you'd've whimpered. You going to trim that jib, or just let her reef?"
Muttering to himself, Seth adjusted the lines. "Look, I want to paint her, I want to spend some time with her. And I want to get her into bed. I can manage all three on my own, thanks."
"If you do, maybe you'll start sleeping better."
"Dru doesn't have anything to do with how I'm sleeping. Or not much anyway."
Cam came about again and headed toward home. Twilight was falling. "So are you going to tell me what's keeping you up at night, or do I have to pry that out of you, too? You don't tell me, Anna's going to make both of our lives hell until you spill it."
He thought of Gloria, and the words crammed in his throat. If he let the first one out, the rest wouldn't just spill. It would be an avalanche. All he could see was his family buried under it.
He could tell Cam anything. Anything but that.
But maybe it was time to unload something else. "I had this really weird dream."
"Are we going back to sex?" Cam asked. "Because if we are we should've brought more beer along."
"I dreamed about Stella."