"Jesus, Ethan, do I have to get the pliers?"
A smile moved over Ethan's mouth. "Had a nice dinner. Drank some of that
Pouilly Fuisse Phil's so wild about. Tastes fine enough, but I don't see
what the big fuss is about."
"So, you get laid?"
Ethan flicked up another glance, took in Cam's wide grin, and decided to
take the question in the spirit it was asked. "Yeah--did you?"
Entertained, if no cooler, Cam threw back his head and laughed. "Damn,
she's the best thing that ever happened to you. I don't just mean the
sex, though that's got to be part of what's perked you up around here
lately. The woman fits you like the proverbial glove."
Ethan paused, scratched his belly where sweat dribbled and itched.
"Why?"
"Because she's rock-steady, pretty as a picture, patient as Job, and
she's got enough humor about life to tickle out yours. I guess we'll be
sprucing up the yard for another wedding before long."
Ethan's fingers tightened on his brush. "I'm not going to marry her,
Cam."
It was the tone as much as the statement that made Cam's eyes narrow.
Quiet despair. "I guess I could be reading you wrong," Cam said slowly.
"I figured, the way things were moving, you were serious about her."
"I am serious, about Grace. About a lot of things." He dipped his brush
again, watched the clean gold varnish drip. "Marriage isn't something
I'm looking for."
Ordinarily Cam would have let a subject such as this drop. He'd have
walked away from it with a shrug. Your business, brother. But he knew
Ethan too well, had loved him too long to walk away from the pain. He
crouched by the rail so their faces were closer.
"I wasn't looking for it either," he murmured. "Scared the hell out me.
But when the woman comes into your life, the woman, it's scarier to let
her go."
"I know what I'm doing."
The dug-in-at-the-heels look didn't stop Cam. "You always figure you do.
I hope you're right this time. I sure as hell hope this isn't some shit
that goes back to that ghost-eyed kid Mom and Dad brought home one day.
The one who used to wake up screaming at night."
"Don't go there, Cam."
"Don't you go there, either. Mom and Dad did better by us than that."
"It has nothing to do with them."
"It all has everything to do with them. Listen--" He broke off with a
mild oath as Seth came running in.
"Hey, this shit's already melting."
Cam straightened, scowled over at Seth out of habit rather than heat.
"Didn't I tell you to find an alternate word for'shit'?"
"You say it," Seth pointed out, shifting the bag of ice.
"That's beside the point."
Knowing the routine, Seth dumped the ice into the cooler. "Why?"
"Because Anna's going to have my ass if you keep it up. And if she has
mine, pal, I'll have yours."
"Oh, now I'm scared."