When the Earth Moves

by Roxanne St Claire

  Before she'd recovered, he was kissing Ms way back up her body, whispering her name, making more promises.

  Her fingers started on the clasp of his jeans. "Now me, Cam."

  He shook his head. "Baby, I have to be inside you. I have to." He ground the words out as she opened his jeans. "Reach into my back pocket," he instructed.

  She did, sliding her hand in and enjoying the sensation of his hard buttocks under her fingertips. Then she felt the foil pack.

  "Aren't you the little Boy Scout," she said, surprised.

  He laughed softly. "Not little," he promised, taking her hand and guiding it to his shaft.

  Pleasure gnawed at him the moment Jo's fingers closed over his flesh. He sucked in a harsh, ragged breath and heard her moan as she slid along the length of his erection. Then she dipped her brilliant, talented ringers into his hot, hard nest and stroked the skin so lightly a grunt of desire caught in his throat.

  Using every ounce of willpower not to explode against her, he slid off his jeans and boxers and furiously tore the condom open with his teeth.

  The burning need to plunge into her had his whole being throbbing and shaking. She must have recognized that, taking the condom and easing him over on his back.

  "Let me," she offered. Again she straddled him, gorgeous and naked with her wild hair tumbling over her shoulders and breasts like some kind of mystical wood nymph he'd found in the mountains.

  He gritted his teeth as she loosened the condom, then slid it down him slowly, torturing him with a tight, demanding squeeze.

  She eased herself above him, their gazes locked on each other. He whispered her name, drinking in the sight of her taut, pink nipples and the sweet, sexy mouth he wanted to kiss again. She grabbed his shoulders and squeezed him, her warm, wet opening ready to take him in.

  He forced himself to hold back, not to thrust into her. He ripped a handful of grass in his fist as she lowered her face to his.

  "You make me feel like such a girl ," she whispered, her expression a mix of wonder and delight. "How do you do that?"

  "You're kidding, right?" He ran his hands over her hips and buttocks, guiding her onto him, holding her brown-eyed gaze. "You are the most feminine, most beautiful woman I've ever met."

  He rolled her over on the grass with one quick movement, positioning himself on top of her. His erection slid right into the wet nest between her legs, causing him to suck in a breath. "Feminine, beautiful and if I don't get inside you, I'm gonna die."

  He lifted her hips and plunged into her.

  He closed his eyes, lost. Blissfully lost in the mountains, lost in the bone-shattering pleasure of her body.

  Rising on his arms, he looked down to the apex where they connected. With each thrust into her, their rhythm increased, their labored breaths grew louder and more ragged. Sweat dripped down his cheeks, and he lowered himself to get that kiss, wanting to be connected on every level, at every point as they reached the end.

  She tightened around him, shuddering and exploding against him as her fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulders. Finally the agony and pleasure was too much, wrenching at his groin and squeezing his heart until he finally gave in, kissing her mouth and repeating her name until he'd emptied everything into Jo.

  * * *

  Chapter Ten

  As he suspected, Cam's cell phone started ringing the minute he'd sent his brothers the e-mail about their mother's will. He'd managed to ignore them for two days. For two incredible, mind-blowing, sensual days, he'd managed to ignore just about everything except the joys of Jo Ellen Tremaine. But he knew he couldn't put the conversation off any longer. Not with his brothers, and not with his lover.

  He'd tell her later tonight.

  But nowhe didn't even look at the Caller ID to know who'd been after him since he'd shared the truth about his mother's last will and testament. It was Quinn or Colin. Or, hell, both.

  He grabbed the phone, knowing he had at least ten minutes before Jo returned from the shop. They had one more evening and half day alone in the house, and she'd promised "a surprise." His whole being tightened at the endless possibilities. Another trip up the mountain? Another erotic three-hour bath in that clawfoot tub? And then there was what she'd done with him in the back seat of that Mustang

  He didn't even have a chance to say hello once he hit Talk.

  "We're in." Quinn's voice was eerily devoid of his usual lighthearted tone. "Can you bring the baby home now or should we come out there and help you?"

  He swallowed hard and resisted the urge to curse. Mightily. "I haven't decided."

  "Well, we need to know. Pronto. Nic's out shopping for cribs and stuff. I gotta get airline tickets, and Colin wants to meet us there, too."

  A vague sense of disgust rolled through Cam. "I think that's a little premature, bro."

  "Premature? You said Mom's will is clear and final." Mom ? He'd never in his adult life heard Quinn call her Mom . "We've talked it to death on this end, and Dad's admitted that her whole story is true. Frankly, it's a big weight off him. He's like a different man."

  Cam opened his mouth to speak, but Quinn rattled on. "There's nothing to wait for. The baby is a Mc-Grath. I know Mom's will specified you, but what she wanted was for Callie to be a McGrath. We'll be there Saturday."

  "Saturday?"

  "Look, you should know that Colin and Grace want to raise her, too. And if you want to split it three ways, we can do that. I just"

  "Quinn, stop it." Cam clenched his jaw and grabbed hold of his temper, forcing himself to lower his voice. "She's a child, not aa freakin' pie you can divide! She's a child ."

  Quinn went silent, leaving Cam with the sounds of cellular static and the pounding of his own pulse.

  "I realize that, Cam," his brother finally said. "We just want to do what's right."

  "Then stay home."

  "What? Have you changed your mind? Now you want to go against what our mother requested? She wanted to be sure Callie is a McGrath . Not awhat's that girl's name again?"

  His blood turned molten. "Tremaine," he said with all the control he could muster. "Her name is Jo Ellen Tremaine. And she is a beautiful, caring, remarkable woman who will be an outstanding mother to our niece."

  "Oh."

  Oh ? That was definitely not the response Cam had expected. "What do you mean, 'oh'?"

  "I mean I hadn't considered you falling in love with her."

  "In love?" Cam's back stiffened. "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "I thought you were just having fun."

  He was having fun.

  "I know what you're going through, dude," Quinn continued. "It's like one insane, life-threatening roller-coaster ride and you don't know whether it would be more dangerous to jump off and risk death or hang on and lose everything you thought was important."

  Cam had to smile. "Somewhere in that brutal mess of metaphors is a pearl of wisdom or two."

  "Damn right there is. Hey, I've been there. Don't be afraid to take advice from your little brother."

  "I don't need advice," Cam lied. He did need advice. Bad. .

  Speechless, he opened the front door to greet her.

  "What's the matter with you, McGrath?" she asked playfully, reaching up to shut his mouth. "Never seen a woman in makeup before?"

  "Wow," he managed to say. "I don't know what you have in mind for our date tonight, but maybe I should change."

  Her gaze tripped over his pullover polo and khaki pants. "Into what? One of your six-dozen Yankee shirts? You're fine."

  He stepped back to let her in, a whiff of something exotic wafting from her. "Where are we going?" Besides paradise.

  "That's a surprise," she said as she opened the drawer to an ancient oak dresser near the front door.

  "Another surprise?" He continued to rake her with a long, lusty look, lingering on the thigh-high skirt and never-ending legs and do-me-from-the-back shoes. "I thoughtthe surprise was this outfit."

  She casually touched the
hem of her skirt, which was above her fingertips. "This? Oh, this is just a little something your sister picked out for me." She winked and retrieved a set of jangling keys from the drawer, flipping them to him. "You can drive my Mustang."

  "Katie told me these shoes were magic," Jo confided to Cam, sliding one leg sensuously over the other as she shimmied against the cool leather of the Mustang's passenger seat. She loved the feel of the strappy, sldmpy high heels, loved the wonderful way her legs tightened when she walked. And, good heavens, she loved the thrill of Cam's long, hungry, appreciative glances.

  Oh, yes. She had to do this girly stuff more often.

  throat a dozen times over the past two days and two nights. But then she'd sensed that something was wrongand had set to work to fix it.

  And, man, the woman could fix things.

  She fixed him with her incredible hands by massaging his back, washing his hair, touching every cell in his body until he groaned with need and desire and satisfaction. She fixed him with her gentle, sexy mouth, with kisses that melted his brain and whispered words that eased his heart. She fixed him with her humor, generously served up with sarcasm and honesty and interest in his responses.

  And, oh God, she fixed him just fine by taking him inside of her, closing her body around his and calling out his name as she rolled like thunder underneath and on top of him.

  In his whole life, he couldn't remember feeling so whole and new and repaired. Was that love, as Quinn had pronounced it?

  It couldn't be. Because if he loved her, he wouldn't consider shattering her faith in him, and in humanity, by arranging for Callie to go to the McGraths'. The truck door opened, and Cam sucked in a harsh breath at the sight it revealed.

  Out slid one long, luscious leg, then another. On her feet were the sexiest pair of black high heels he'd ever seen. His gaze traveled up the endless legs to the short black skirt that tagged her incredible thighs. And farther up to the flimsy white sweater that clung to her perfect breasts. Her hair was loose, over her shoulders. She closed the track door and walked toward the house like a model on a catwalk, his jaw dropping with each sway of her hips.

  Holy tomgirl. She was drop-dead gorgeous.

  "So, square with me," Quinn demanded. "How does she make you feel?"

  Cam closed his eyes for a second, considering the question. "Healed."

  "Oh, yeah?" He heard Quinn's ironic chuckle. "And you were the one who was supposed to heal everyone else's hurt."

  "I don't know if it's going to work out that way, bro. Somewhere, somehow, somebody's going to get hurt. Because of me."

  "We want Callie, too, Cam. We can love her and take care of her. She belongs with family." There was no indictment in Quinn's voice, no accusation. Just a statement of fact.

  "She belongs with Jo. They are an incredible team."

  Quinn swore softly under his breath. "Well, then you're right Someone's going to get hurt."

  Cam heard the track rumble into the drive and he looked out the window to see Jo in the driver's seat. His stomach dippedlike he was on a roller coaster. "Maybe I can figure something out. I need another day." God, he needed more than that. He needed

  He didn't even want to think about how much time he wanted with Jo.

  "We're moving ahead with our plans on this end," Quinn said ominously.

  Cam hung up without acknowledging the comment, his gaze still locked on Jo as she parked the truck in the driveway.

  For a moment she just sat staring straight ahead.

  What was she thinking?

  And what would she think when he finally told her about his conversation with her mother, about his mother's will? He had tried. The words had lodged in his

  Cam's gaze swept over her again. "You're magical in them. That's the difference."

  "Of course, counselor." She rolled her eyes at his never-ending semantic corrections. "When you get into town, turn left on Carvel and head south."

  "Where are we going?"

  She glanced at her watch and purposely didn't answer him. "Trust me, you don't want to be late."

  Delight trickled through her, giving her the heady sensation of having just one too many cold beers. She'd regret it just like a hangover, too, when he was gone. But, shoot, she didn't feel like fighting this bliss.

  He hadn't left, hadn't proved her mother light. Like her father. Like her husband. Cam had traveled across the country, and, so far, he stayed.

  So far. And he'd promised she"d have Callieand he might continue to visit like a good uncle. She'd already decided to tell Callie the truth when she was old enough to understand. No reason to hide her from the McGrath family. Not once Jo had legally adopted her.

  No reason at allexcept that Jo had a crush on Cam the size of California, and he lived in New York.

  She sighed and smoothed the short skirt over her legs. And she'd always have this week. This incredible, memorable week with Cam. And it was just a crush .

  Wasn't it?

  As he drove into town, she felt her body relax and remember every wonderful moment. Since they melted together on the mountain, she'd wallowed in pleasure. Physical, emotional, even, in an odd way, spiritual pleasure. She knew she'd helped him enormously in dealing with his past, and, she realized that afternoon when she'd changed at the shop and thought about Katie, she'd been helped, too.

  "I know you think I was jealous of her," she said softly, surprising herself with the admission. "And in a way I always was."

  "Jealous? Of Katie?" He glanced at her. "I wouldn't characterize it as jealousy. More like sibling rivalry. I'm very familiar with that."

  "She was like my sister," Jo agreed, looking out the window and seeing Katie's wickedly cute grin and her sparkling brown eyes. "It just seemed like I spent a good deal of my lif e getting her out of trouble. And then in the end" She closed her eyes.

  "You couldn''t get her out of the worst trouble of all." He closed his hand over her leg. "And you haven't accepted that. In fact, you're still mad at her for dying without giving you a chance to save her."

  She turned away from the window to look at him in disbelief. "Well, who's turned into the shrink now?"

  He squeezed her hand. "Hey. People change. And grow. And learn from each other."

  She wondered if he could hear her heart flipping and landing low in her stomach at that comment. "That's right, Cam," she responded, pointing toward a flashing yellow sign at the entrance to The Sports Section. "And to prove that point, please pull in there."

  "There? What is there?"

  "A bar."

  He threw her a confused glance. "A sports bar?"

  "Yep." She tapped the face of her watch. "And the first pitch is in five minutes. So you better hustle if you don't want to miss Mussina's slider. I heard it's" she lowered her voice and copped a fake "New Yawk" accent, "Friggin' magical."

  His eyes opened wide and his grin could melt the snow on Mount Shasta. "They get the game here?"

  "The boys in pinstripes are playing the A's tonight," She pointed to the old Sierra Springs institution, known~ locally as The Section. "And you can see it on satellite, right here in the house that somebody but not Babe Ruthbuilt in 1976."

  He pulled her face to his and kissed her so hard he had to have devoured all the lip gloss she'd brushed on with the same amount of care she'd give a hairline metal fracture.

  "Quinn's right," he said as he broke the kiss. "I am in love with you."

  Before she could open her eyes, he'd jumped out of the car and was winging around to her side to get the door.

  He was in love with her?

  Her heart thumped wildly as she heard the words replay over and over in her head. In love with her ?

  And then her heart tripped at the next thought. Why had he been talking to his brother?

  Cam never mentioned loveor Quinnfor the next several hours. Jo tried hard to forget the comment and forced herself to get lost in the game and enjoy Cam's enthusiasm for the victory his team enjoyed that night. They drank
a few beers, ate burgers, cheered loudly and celebrated every good play with a kiss.

  Nothing was different.

  Except that Cam had said he was in love with her.

  Good God, now what?

  When he pulled the Mustang into the garage, Cam turned to her with what could only be described as an evil, lascivious, delicious look in his eyes.

  "I love that you took me to watch the game," he said. Love again. Uh-oh. "And I love what you wore," he added, running a single finger over her leg until it set-tied on the inside of her thigh. "And I'm going to love to watch it all come off tonight."

  She could barely swallow as the familiar heat started to boil under her flesh, the wonderful tightness pulled her stomach and the melting started between her legs. "All of it?" she managed to ask.

  "Keep the shoes on."

  She threw her head back and laughed, but he caught her in another mouthwatering kiss.

  "Come on, tomgirl," he whispered, fluttering warm kisses down her throat and gliding his hands over her breasts. "Let's go to bed."

  "Bed?" she teased. "You're so pedestrian tonight."

  He shook his head as his hand dipped into her cleavage and his fingers found her hardened nipple. "Not pedestrian. Traditional. I'm in the mood for traditional."

  "With my heels on."

  "Traditional with a twist."

  He kept her laughing and kissing and caressing all the way upstairs. Enough so that she didn't think about those words he'd spoken earlier.

  Not love. No, not love. Lust was okay. Like was even acceptable, since they'd always have Callie to keep them connected.

  But love? If she let herself love him, how could she stand it when he got on that plane and left her? When he returned to his metal monolith and important job? She'd ache for him.

  Ignoring the warning bells, she let him guide her into her darkened bedroom, then he snapped on the tiny night lamp on the dresser. The soft light seeped into the dark corners and washed the room in a low golden glow. She lightly nudged him onto the foot of the bed and stood in front of him as he sat staring at her.

  She stepped back, out of his reach, but not out of his sight.