Heat of the Moment

by Robin Kaye

  “In my drawer. I forgot to pack my thong. And after the last round of interviews, I didn’t want to look unprofessional and I didn’t want panty lines.” She ended the sentence with a hmph, when her back hit the wall.

  His hands continued their exploration and it took him a moment to realize what his fingers traced. A picture materialized and his breath caught, his heart rate kicked up, and his poor dick was about to blow through his fly. He swallowed hard. “You remembered to pack a garter and stockings but not a thong?”

  She let out a throaty laugh that made his dick jump against the metal teeth of his fly like a dog against a fence with a juicy steak on the other side. “Are you complaining? After all, you’re the one who rushed my packing.”

  “No, as far as I’m concerned, you can spend the rest of our lives without underwear. I don’t know how I’ll ever get any work done, but I’m more than willing to take the hit.” He’d slid her farther up and tugged the V-neck over to expose a full, beautiful breast encased in a seriously sexy lace bra; he sucked in the turgid nipple, lace and all.

  “Cam?”

  He didn’t bother answering. He was busy.

  “Cam, the curtains are open and some guy just got an eyeful.”

  He released her breast, tightened his grip, hiked her a little higher around his waist, and cursed before he blew them through the office door and took the steps two at a time.

  ***

  Erin had learned a few very important things over the last five hours: Cameron O’Leary loved her and wanted to marry her; making love with him really was as incredible as she’d remembered, apparently giving her multiple orgasms was part of his repertoire; and fixing dinner with her newly unrestrained fiancé in the kitchen was nearly impossible. “Cam, would you cut it out? I can’t cook with your arms around me.”

  “Get used to it. I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.”

  “Well damn, Cam,” a voice called out from the mud room.

  Erin felt Cam freeze mid neck nibble, and she wanted to dissolve into the floor.

  “You said you weren’t going to date her.”

  Cam straightened and turned around, glaring at his brother’s intrusion. “I’m not dating Erin, I’m marrying her.” His voice caused the temperature in the room to drop by thirty degrees.

  Erin froze, her heart sped up, and long fingers of embarrassment crawled up her spine.

  “And if you ever make another pass at my fiancée, Butch, I’ll break both your legs.”

  She turned and looked up into the shocked and quickly paling face of Cam’s youngest brother.

  Butch’s hands flew up in surrender and he took a big step back, a slightly crooked grin cracking the tension. “Okay, okay, bro, chill.”

  She grabbed the towel and dried her hands, then swatted Cam with it. “Knock it off.”

  Butch tugged off his jacket, crossed his arms, and stared.

  Cam kept his arm around her. She wasn’t sure if he was going all he-man or if he was afraid she’d snap the towel at him again. “We were planning to tell everyone tonight at dinner.”

  “We were?” That was news to her. They’d never discussed it; they’d been too busy celebrating to plan the announcement.

  Janie ran in from the mud room, followed by Adam and Cam’s dad, and slid to a stop. She looked from Cam to Butch and then her gaze finally landed on Erin. “What’s going on?”

  Erin tossed the towel on the counter and extracted herself from Cam’s grip. “Janie, you’re home! Did you have fun today?”

  Butch lowered his hands. “Not as much fun as you’ve had, evidently.”

  Janie didn’t catch the remark, but Butch had Ryan and Adam’s full attention, judging from their raised eyebrows.

  Janie snagged a carrot off the cutting board and took a bite. “We went to Miss Lolly’s to have lunch, and guess what?”

  “What?” Erin bent down, unzipped Janie’s coat, and slid it off her small shoulders.

  “Miss Lolly’s cat, Sugar, had her babies last week and I got to hold them and play with them and everything.”

  Erin handed Cam Janie’s coat and gave him a push. “That does sound like fun.”

  “Miss Lolly said I can have one of the kittens when they get old enough to leave their mama, that is if it’s okay with you and Daddy. Can I, Erin? Please? I’ll take care of it all by myself. You and Daddy won’t have to do anything. I swear.”

  Erin looked for backup but only got blank stares in return. Fabulous. “Wow, a kitten. That’s a big decision and a lot of responsibility. You should probably talk to your dad about it later. Right now, everyone needs to go wash up for dinner. It’s almost ready.”

  Erin turned—the table was set, the chicken was finishing up in the oven, and the vegetables were already on the table. She threw a napkin into the bottom of a basket and tossed in the sliced baguettes.

  Ryan, Adam, Butch, and Janie filed out, and when Cam moved to walk past, she snagged his elbow. “Not you.”

  A slow, slightly cocky smile spread over his face and he slipped his arm around her. “Can’t wait to get me alone, can you?”

  “Be serious.”

  “I am. I can’t wait to get you alone either.” He pushed the hair off her shoulder and kissed her neck, nibbling his way to her earlobe. “How long before we can kick them all out of the house and get Janie to bed?”

  “Cam, stop it. I can’t think when you do that.”

  “Thinking is overrated.”

  “Well, well, well.” A snarky female voice drifted in from the mud room.

  Erin jerked her head around and blinked to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. “Kendall? Mom?” What the hell was this place—Grand Central Station?

  Kendall sashayed in wearing a full-on gloat. “Stacy, it looks like we’re just in time.”

  “In time for what?” Erin smoothed her hand over her hair.

  “Dinner, dear.” Her mother smiled. A little amused, a little surprised.

  Kendall nudged Stacy with her elbow. “If you ask me, they look like they’re ready for dessert.”

  “No one asked you. Now stop teasing, Kendall, and tell Cam the good news.”

  Cam straightened and pulled Erin closer, deflecting her elbow with deft efficiency. “What good news?”

  “I’ve found the perfect nanny for Janie.”

  Erin didn’t bother hiding her confusion. “Who?”

  “Lawrence Patterson.”

  “Larry?” Erin almost choked.

  “He’s perfect. He’s working on his master’s in child psychology, he loves children, and he has three younger sisters that he practically raised—”

  “He’s gay.”

  “He’s perfect.” Cam jumped in.

  “You know him?”

  “He brings his service dog into the hospital every week to play with the kids. I’ve known Larry for the last few years. Janie loves him.”

  Erin swiveled her head from Cam to Kendall to her mother. Something wasn’t adding up. She narrowed her gaze and honed in on Kendall. “What are you two doing here?”

  Kendall grinned. “Cam invited us to dinner.”

  “He did?”

  Cam gave her a shrug, and if she wasn’t crazy, he looked more than a little nervous. “I knew you’d want your mom and Kendall here, so I called them.”

  Erin shook her head. The man was exasperating. But damn, he’d hit the mark on this one and she melted. “Thank you.”

  Cam pulled her into his arms with a sigh of relief just as everyone reentered the kitchen. It was a tight fit. A perfect fit. Everyone she and Cam loved.

  He whispered into her ear. “Shall we tell them?”

  She nodded. “Together.”

  She and Cam turned to their family. “We’re getting married.”

  “I knew it! I knew it! I knew
it!” Janie bounced with each exclamation, causing her sneakers to flash like red strobe lights. She pointed to her grandfather and uncles. “You each owe me ten bucks!” she said, before hurling herself into Erin and Cam. “We’re getting married and having a baby!”

  Everyone drew in a collective shocked breath and stared at Erin. “No, we’re not having a baby, Janie. We’re getting married but I’m not—we’re not . . .”

  Janie gave Erin her first parents-don’t-understand-anything look.

  “I meant we’re having a baby kitten. You’re gonna let me keep one of Lolly’s kittens, right?”

  Erin almost groaned in relief. “A kitten. Right, sure.”

  Janie pulled Erin close and gave her a big smacking kiss. “You’re the best mom ever.”

  Erin was too shocked to say anything before Janie squirmed for release. She just stood there leaning against Cam and watching everyone she’d ever loved.

  Cam pushed her hair behind her ear and leaned in. “Like father like daughter,” he whispered.

  “Huh?”

  “Janie and me. It’s amazing what we can get you to agree to in the heat of the moment.”

  Keep reading for a preview of HOME TO YOU, Robin Kaye’s new novel about finding love where you least expect it . . .

  Available soon from Signet.

  Kendall Watkins stopped the Jeep and threw it into 4-wheel drive before turning off the main dirt road onto the sorry excuse of a trail that led up the hill to the cabin, her sanctuary. She’d almost gotten through a long tough day on no sleep. She’d made the trip from her Boston apartment to Harmony, New Hampshire, powered through her best friend Addie’s inquisition about Kendall’s first breakup and heartbreak with minimal waterworks, and took all the groceries, love, and support that she could stand.

  As much as she loved Addie and appreciated the offer of her spare bedroom, right now, the last thing she needed was company. No matter how supportive, understanding, and well-intentioned Addie was, Kendall needed to be alone to lick her wounds and wallow in self-pity for as long as it took her to feel human again, or until the food ran out—whichever came first. She had a bad feeling she’d be busy until the cupboards were bare.

  Addie had told her in no uncertain terms that the grocery shopping spree was a one-time-only offer. There would be no refilling of the five basic food groups—chocolate, wine, pasta, ice cream, and Nutella—until Kendall poked her head out of her cave and rejoined society.

  From a therapist’s perspective, Kendall had to admit it was a sound plan on Addie’s part. Everyone knew wallowing for more than a week or two might lead down the dark road of clinical depression, but from the perspective of a woman who was just unceremoniously dumped from a twelve year relationship with no warning and not so much as a this-isn’t-working-for-me discussion, a week or two didn’t seem nearly long enough.

  Last night, the only thing she wanted was to escape the apartment she’d shared with David. She’d never felt at home in Boston, and she wanted to go home, home to Harmony. When she thought of escaping, a picture of the old hunting cabin immediately came to mind. She knew she could go there and no one would find her hiding place. The only person who lived within five miles of it was Jamie Rouchard, and if he caught her, she was sure he’d keep her secret and respect her privacy. Years ago Jamie interrupted her and David mid-tryst, and never told a soul. She felt certain that Jamie would keep his mouth shut, and, as far as she knew, he and Addie were the only people in the entire town who could.

  She looked through the dwindling light of late afternoon and prayed she wouldn’t think of all the times she and David had spent in that very cabin. She did her best to tamp down a case of sudden nerves, wiped sweaty palms on her jeans to make sure she had a good grip on the steering wheel, and wondered if she wasn’t making yet another huge mistake. When she’d come up with her plan in the wee hours of the morning, it hadn’t occurred to her that the last thing she needed was to be stuck in a cabin with the Ghost of Boyfriends Past. No, she wouldn’t allow David to ruin her homecoming and the one place she saw as a sanctuary. She refused to give him that much power.

  The trail was snow covered and in the fading light it was difficult to discern the path at all. It was clear that whoever plowed hadn’t done so recently so she was stuck picking her way up the steep incline in low gear.

  Sara Bareilles’s “Gravity”—a song she’d always liked but could never relate to until today—drowned out the rumble of the engine and struck a chord so deep within her she had to blink back tears, fighting for control.

  Kendall took her hand off the wheel to wipe her eyes and the front passenger side of the Jeep ran over something—a boulder, the edge of the trail, a snow-covered log, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was she needed to get off the damn thing since the Jeep canted awkwardly. She stopped and sent up a little prayer that she had enough clearance. This was why she’d bought a 4-wheel drive in the first place. It gave her the ability to go off road, and this was definitely off road. She let off the brake, tapped the gas, and the Jeep surged off whatever it was it had been on. It landed with a decidedly expensive sounding crunch of metal and she cringed. “Damn.” She tapped on the gas again, the Jeep grunted ahead and the front passenger side fell at an awkward angle and stopped, sitting way too low to be considered normal.

  “Oh God, this is just the icing on the total shit-cake of a day. Can’t anything go right?” She put the car in park—as if it would go anywhere—and banged her head against the steering wheel with a painful thud. The action did nothing to make her feel better. Whoever thought that a good head-bang would release tension was obviously an idiot.

  Great, she was in the middle of nowhere, miles from the nearest person, in a disabled car. She took a quick look at her phone—no cell coverage. Unfortunately, in a twenty-four hour period filled with nonstop shocks, the lack of cell coverage wasn’t one of them.

  Strains of Lady Antebellum’s song, “Love Don’t Live Here,” filled the car and she considered banging her head again. “Maybe love don’t live here anymore, but it did once,” she mumbled and killed the engine.

  That thought pushed her over the edge of the emotional cliff she’d been skirting for the last day and a half. She stopped fighting the good fight and let loose the river of tears she’d kept dammed up with a finger, a wad of gum and a prayer.

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d sat in the cooling car crying when a triple rap on the driver’s side door interrupted her mid-meltdown. Kendall jumped, let out a startled yelp, and blinked at the image of a hairy hulk of a man staring through the cloudy driver’s side window. He had longish blond hair sticking out of a navy blue knit cap, a two or three week beard covered what looked like a square jaw, and he sported crinkles around the bluest, most intense eyes she’d ever seen. Even with tears and a foggy window clouding her vision, her gaze felt shackled to his, and like a sleepwalker, she slowly opened the door and let out an embarrassing, hiccupping sob.

  The man took what looked like a cautious step back and crouched before her, maybe to seem less threatening. “Are you hurt?” He sounded as if he didn’t want to hear the answer, but felt awkwardly obligated to ask.

  Another sob escaped, she shook her head and took what she hoped was a calming breath. “Physically, I’m fine. Emotionally I’m a complete wreck.”

  He rose to his full height, rounded the back of the car, and then crouched to inspect the sunken front end. She wasn’t sure if it was to look for damage or just a damn good excuse to get away from the crazy woman blubbering all over herself. He placed one large hand on the edge of the hood and pushed, rocking the car with a grunt of effort.

  The next sound she heard was a manly hum of disappointment confirming her initial assessment of the situation: she was screwed.

  He came to his feet in one smooth move, caught her gaze—probably to gauge her mental competency—and his expression shifted from polite but hug
ely uncomfortable concern to an I’ve-got-bad-news-for-you grimace.

  Kendall wiped her cold, tear-stained face. “You might as well just say whatever it is.”

  He looked her up and down again. “I don’t want to make what is obviously a terrible day worse, but it looks as if you have a broken axel.”

  “A broken axel? Seriously?” She raised her gaze to the sky. “God, I know I’m strong, independent, intelligent, and resourceful, but don’t you think the broken axel was just a little over-the-top even for someone who is usually as unflappable as me?” She waited a beat to give God a second to strike her down in case He was in the mood. “Okay, you win. I give up.” She knew she stood beside a snow bank but looked over her shoulder just to make sure before taking a seat. Who could blame her? After the day she’d had, she had good reason to question her own judgment. At that moment, she couldn’t care less who the man before her was or that a complete stranger would witness her tears. At a time such as this self-respect was overrated. Besides, it wasn’t as if he had to stand there and listen to her—he could slink off to wherever he came from.

  She took a stilted breath before dropping her face into her hands and crying in earnest. “In the last day I’ve been downsized and dumped. In a month, I’ll be homeless because without my job and my fiancé, I can’t afford to keep my apartment. And if that isn’t enough, now you tell me I’ve just broken my axel. I’m no crack mechanic but even I know that’s really expensive.”

  The snowbank gave way and she sunk another six inches. “And now I’m sitting here in the middle of nowhere crying in front of a total stranger, my ass is wet and I’m stuck.”

  A slow self-deprecating smile spread across his face. “I’m not much of a stranger anymore.” He pulled a folded bandanna from his pocket, holding it out to her. “Here, blow your nose.”

  She took the bandanna. “What do I look like? A five year old?”