Sea Swept (26 page)

“Nothing,” Cam began. “He just—”

“I fell off the roof,” Seth piped up. He’d calmed down while he was inside and had gone from being weak-kneed to wildly proud.

“Fell off the—” Shocked to numbness, Anna instinctively began to check for broken bones. Seth stiffened, then squirmed, but she continued grimly until she was satisfied. “My God. What are you doing walking around?” She turned her head long enough to aim a furious glare at Cam. “Have you called an ambulance?”

“He doesn’t need a damn ambulance. It’s just like a woman to fall to pieces.”

“Fall to pieces.” Keeping a protective hand on Seth’s shoulder, she whirled on them. “Fall to pieces! The three of you are standing around here like a herd of baboons. The child could have internal injuries. He’s bleeding.”

“Just my fingers.” Seth held them out, admiring them. Man, was he going to be the hot topic in school come Monday! “I slipped off the ladder coming down, but I caught myself on the window frame up there.” He pointed
it out helpfully, while Anna’s head spun from the height. “And Cam told me to let go and he’d catch me, and I did and he did.”

“Damn kid won’t say two words half the time,” Cam muttered to Phillip. “The other half he won’t shut the hell up. He’s fine,” he said, lifting his voice. “Just knocked the wind out of him.”

She didn’t bother to respond, only sent him one long, fulminating look before turning back to smile at Seth. “Why don’t I take a look at your hands, honey? We’ll clean them up and see if you need stitches.” She lifted her chin, but the shaded glasses didn’t quite conceal the heat in her eyes. “Then I’d like to speak with you, Cameron.”

“I bet you would,” he mumbled as she led Seth toward her car.

Seth found he didn’t mind being babied a bit. It was a new experience to have a woman fuss over a little blood. Her hands were gentle, her voice soothing. And if his fingers throbbed and stung, it was a small price to pay for what now seemed a glorious adventure.

“It was a long way down,” he told her.

“Yes, I know.” Thinking of it only made the ball of anger in her stomach harden. “You must have been terrified.”

“I was only scared for a minute.” He bit the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t whimper as she carefully bandaged his wounds. “Some kids would’ve screamed like a girl and wet their pants.”

He wasn’t sure if he’d screamed or not—that part was a blur—but he’d checked his jeans and knew he was okay there. “And Cam, he was pissed off. You’d think I kicked the damn ladder out from under me on purpose.”

Her head came up. “He yelled at you?”

He started to expand on that, but there was something about her eyes that made it hard to tell an out-and-out lie. “For a minute. Mostly he just got goofy about it. You’d think I’d had my arm whacked off the way he was carrying on, patting on me and stuff.”

He shrugged, but remembered the warm glow in his gut at being held close, safe, tight. “Some guys, you know? They can’t take a little blood.”

Her smile softened, and she reached up to brush his hair back. “Yeah, I know. Well, you’re in pretty good shape for a guy who likes to dive off roofs. Don’t do it again, okay?”

“Once was enough.”

“Glad to hear it. There’s fried chicken in the hamper—unless they’ve eaten it all.”

“Yeah. Man, I could eat a dozen pieces.” He started to race off, then felt a tug on his conscience. It was another rare sensation, and it caused him to turn back and meet her eyes. “Cam said he’d catch me, and he did. He was cool.”

Then he ran toward the building, shouting for Ethan to save him some damn chicken.

Anna only sighed. She sat there on the side of the passenger seat while she put the first aid kit back in order. When the shadow fell across her, she continued to tidy up. She could smell him, sweat, man, the faint undertones of the soap from his morning shower. She knew his scent so well now—and the way it would mix with her own—that she could have picked him out of a roomful of men had she been handcuffed and blindfolded.

And though it was certainly true that she’d been curious about the building, it was really only a handy excuse to drive over from Princess Anne to see him.

“I don’t suppose there’s any point in me telling you that boys Seth’s age shouldn’t be going up and down extension ladders unsupervised.”

“I don’t suppose there is.”

“Or that boys his age are careless, often awkward, and clumsy.”

“He’s not clumsy,” Cam said with some heat. “He’s agile as a monkey. Of course,” he added with a sneer in his voice, “the rest of us are baboons, so that fits.”

She closed the first aid kit, rose, and handed it to him.
“Apparently,” she agreed. “However, accidents happen, no matter how careful you are, no matter how hard you try to prevent them. That’s why they’re accidents.”

She looked at his face. The irritation was still there, she noted—with her, with circumstances. And oh, that underlying anger that never seemed to fade completely away was very, very close to the surface.

“So,” she said softly, “how many years of your life did that little event shave off?”

He let out a breath. “A couple of decades. But the kid handled himself.”

He turned a little, to look back toward the building. It was then that Anna saw the smears of blood on his back. Smears, she realized after her heart’s first leap, that had come from Seth’s hands. The boy had been held, she thought. And the boy had held on.

Cam turned back, caught her smiling. “What?”

“Nothing. Well, since I’m here, and you’re all eating my food, I think I’m entitled to a tour.”

“How much of this business are you going to have to put in one of your reports?”

“I’m not on the clock,” she told him, more sharply than she intended. “I thought I was coming to pay a visit to friends.”

“I didn’t mean it that way, Anna.”

“Really?” She stepped around the car door and slammed it shut at her back. Damn it, she had come to see him, to be with him, not to fit in an unannounced home visit. “What I will put in my next report, unless I see something to the contrary, is that it’s my opinion that Seth is bonding with his guardians and they with him. I’ll make sure you get a copy. I’ll take a rain check on the tour. You can get the hamper back to me at your convenience.”

She thought it was a great exit as exits went, striding around the car while she tossed off her lines. Her temper was flaring but just under control. Then he grabbed her as she reached for the car door and spoiled it.

She whirled around swinging, but her fist slid off his
damp chest and ruined the impact. “Hands off.”

“Where are you going? Just hold it a minute.”

“I don’t have to hold anything, and I don’t want you holding me.” She shoved at him with both hands. “God, you’re filthy!”

“If you’d just be still and listen—”

“To what? You don’t think I get it? You don’t think I’ve clued in to what you saw, what you thought when I pulled up. ‘Oh, hell, here comes the social worker? Close ranks, boys.’” She jerked back. “Well, fuck you.”

He could have denied it, could have taken the I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about approach and done an expert job of it. But her eyes had the same effect on him as they’d had on Seth. They wouldn’t let his tongue wrap itself around a decent lie.

“Okay, you’re right. It was knee-jerk.”

“At least you have the decency to be honest.” The depth of the hurt infuriated her as much as it surprised her.

“I don’t know what you’re so frosted about.”

“Don’t you?” She tossed back her hair. “Then I’ll tell you. I looked at you and saw a man who also happens to be my lover. You looked at me and saw a symbol of a system you don’t trust or respect. Now that that’s cleared up, get out of my way.”

“I’m sorry.” He dragged the bandanna off because his head was splitting. “You’re right again, and I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” She started to open the car door.

“Will you give me a damn minute here?” Instead of reaching for her again, he dragged his hands through his hair. It wasn’t the impatient tone that stopped her, but the weariness of the gesture.

“All right.” She let go of the door handle. “You’ve got a minute.”

He didn’t think there was another woman on the planet he’d explained himself to more than the one watching him now with a faint frown. “We were all a little shaken up right then. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Goddamn it, my hands were still shaking.”

He hated to admit that—hated it. To gather some control, he turned away, paced off, paced back. “I was in a wreck once. About three years ago. Grand Prix. Hit the chute, misjudged, went into a hell of a spin. The car was breaking apart around me. The worst fear is invisible fire. Vapors catching hold. I had this flash of myself burned to a crisp. Just for an instant, but it was vivid.”

He balled the bandanna up in his hand, then pulled it out smooth. “I’m telling you, Anna, I swear to you, standing under that kid and watching his shoelaces dangle was worse. Hell of a lot worse.”

How could she hold on to her anger? And why couldn’t he see that he had such a huge well of love to give if he would only let himself dip into it freely? He’d said that he would probably hurt her, but she hadn’t known it would come so soon, or from this direction.

She hadn’t been looking in the right direction. She hadn’t known she was falling in love with him.

“I can’t do this,” she said, half to herself, and wrapped her hands around her arms to warm them. The chill penetrated, even though she stood in streaming sun. How many steps had she taken toward love, she wondered, and how many could she take back to save herself? “I don’t know what I was thinking of. Being involved with you on a personal level only complicates our mutual interest in the child.”

“Don’t back off from me, Anna.” He experienced another level of fear now, one he’d never felt before. “So we take a few wrong steps. We get the balance back. We’re good together.”

“We’re good in bed,” she said and blinked when she saw what might have been hurt flash in his eyes.

“Only?”

“No,” she said slowly as he stepped toward her, “not only. But—”

“I’ve got something for you inside me, Anna.” He forgot his hands were grimy and laid them on her shoulders. “I haven’t used it up yet. This thing with you, it’s one of
the first times I haven’t wanted to rush to the finish line.”

They would still get there, she realized. She would have to be prepared for him to reach that line, and cross it, ahead of her. “Don’t mix up who I am and what I am,” she told him quietly. “You have to be honest with me, or the rest of it means nothing.”

“I’ve been more up front with you than I’ve ever been with a woman before. And I know who you are.”

“All right.” She laid a hand on his cheek when he bent to kiss her. “We’ll see what happens next.”

I
T WAS A good spring afternoon. Balmy air, fine wind, and just enough cloud cover to filter the sun and keep it from baking your flesh down to your bones. When Ethan guided his workboat into dock, the waterfront was busy with tourists who’d come to see the watermen work and the busy fingers of the crab pickers fly.

He had reached his quota early, which suited him fine. The water tanks under the faded striped awning of his boat were crawling with annoyed crabs that would find their way into the pot by nightfall. He would turn in his catch and leave his mate to diddle with the engine. It was running just a tad rough. He planned to take himself over to the building to see how the plumbing was coming.

He was itching to have it done, and Ethan Quinn wasn’t a man who itched for much—at least, he didn’t allow himself to think he did. But the boat building enterprise was a little private dream that he’d nurtured for some time now. He thought it was about ripe.

Simon let out one sharp, happy woof as the boat bumped the pilings. Even as Ethan prepared to secure the lines, there were hands reaching for them. Hands he recognized
before he lifted his gaze to the face. Long, pretty hands that wore no rings or polish.

“I’ve got it, Ethan.”

He looked up and smiled at Grace. “Appreciate it. What’re you doing on the docks midday?”

“Picking crabs. Betsy was feeling off this morning, so they were short a pair of hands. My mother wanted Aubrey for a couple of hours anyway.”

“You ought to take some time for yourself, Grace.”

“Oh . . .” She secured the lines expertly, then straightened to run a hand through her short cap of hair. “One of these days. Did y’all finish up that ham casserole I made the other day?”

“Fought over the last bite. It was great. Thanks.” Now that he’d about run out of easy conversation and was standing on the dock beside her, he didn’t know what to do with his hands. To compensate, he scratched Simon’s head. “We pulled in a nice catch today.”

“So I see.” But her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and she was gnawing on her lip. A sure sign, Ethan thought, that what was on Grace’s mind was trouble.

“Is there a problem?”

“I hate to take up your time when you’re busy, Ethan.” Her eyes scanned the docks. “Could you walk with me a minute?”

“Sure. I could use something cold. Jim, you handle things from here all right?”