Authors: Lori Foster
Aunt Lorna's ceiling."
His long sigh sent hot breath across her chil ed cheeks. "You don't know what you're talking about,
Cam. I'm sorry, but you don't. Where it comes through the ceiling doesn't usual y have much to do
with the location of the leak on the roof. Water can travel on the underside of sheathing or down roof
rafters before dropping off in one or more places inside."
"It does?"
"Look, the longer I stand here explaining it to you, the wetter I'm getting and the more likely we both are to slip off here and break our asses."
She'd never had anyone talk to her like that. For some reason, it made her want to grin. She pinched
her lips shut and nodded.
Suspicious, he stared at her. "Just trust me. I know what I'm doing."
"Okay." She real y did trust him. And that in itself felt remarkably good. '"Be careful."
"You think?" The words no sooner left his mouth than he shook his head and dropped the sarcasm.
"Go on. I'l be down in a few minutes."
He held her secure as she maneuvered into position on the ladder, then released her as she
lowered herself.
Cam wanted to thank him or... something. But she didn't know what to say, and Dean had already
turned away to get to work.
She climbed down, walked past her wide-eyed sister, and went inside.
Compared to the stormy night, the house felt almost muggy and too warm. God, she hoped that
didn't mean the air was on the fritz, too. One more catastrophe and sel ing the house wouldn't help.
They'd be too far in debt.
Knowing she was alone, and with the lights off, Cam removed her wet night clothes and sneakers,
dumped them into the laundry room, and dashed upstairs to dress.
Seconds later, Jacki cracked her door open and slipped in. While Cam towel dried her hair, Jacki
stood there against the closed door, looking anxious and edgy.
"Is something wrong?"
Jacki blurted, "This is weird as hel , that's al ."
"Weird?" Setting the towel aside, Cam slipped into slacks and a loose top. "Dean showing up and insisting on helping, you mean?"
"Yeah." Jacki came in and sat on the edge of Cam's bed. She faltered a moment before
announcing, "I got hired on at the Roadkil Bar."
Cam had just started to drag her wide-toothed comb through her tangled hair. But at her sister's
statement, she brought her head up sharply. "You did what?"
"Don't bitch, Cam. Dean was right. I need a job, and that's the job I want. I start Monday."
Is that how Jacki saw her concern, as bitching? A little hurt, Cam nodded. "I see."
"The thing is, Dean found out I was there and he insisted on driving me home."
"How did he find out?"
Al quiet and conspiratorial, Jacki leaned forward. "He left Eve to come get me."
"Eve?" How had Eve gotten involved in this convoluted story?
"They were .. . you know"—Jacki's eyebrows bobbed and her mouth curled— "having a good time."
Her hair forgotten, Cam took a seat on the bed beside Jacki. "How do you know?"
"I cal ed Eve to see if she had Dean's number, since he didn't give it to either of us, but we both saw them connect at dinner. Right?"
Connect seemed like a mild word compared to how Dean and Eve had sexual y col ided. "Right."
"So I cal ed her, and when she answered, I could tel she hadn't been sleeping."
"Wait, back up." Prying into Eve's personal life didn't feel quite right. She needed a moment to assimilate things. "Why did you want Dean's number?"
"It's a long story that I'l be happy to share later. But you see, Eve didn't tel me Dean's number."
Jacki leaned closer. "She just handed the phone to him."
"What time was this?"
"Not more than an hour ago. And Dean didn't exactly try to hide the fact that I'd interrupted."
It al seemed like too much to take in. "Dean was rude to you?"
Jacki laughed. "Considering the situation, he was fine."
Eve and Dean, intimate already? Wel , Eve had made it clear how Dean affected her, but stil ... Cam
shook her head to clear it. "Why didn't you cal me for a ride?"
Jacki flopped back on the bed. "How did I know you'd ask that?"
"I'd like to think we're stil close."
Jacki groaned. "So we're not going to talk about Eve and Dean?"
It wasn't any of their business, but. . . "Maybe later." Right now, emotional and physical exhaustion pul ed at Cam. She couldn't think clearly. "I would have come for you, Jacki."
"I know. But you had a ful day. Why should you be responsible for me?"
Fierce protectiveness reared up inside Cam. "You're my sister."
"Yeah, sure. But I'm twenty-one, not twelve. Only a few years younger than you." Jacki rose up on her elbows. "Do you realize that just because Mom and Dad died, you treat me like I'm fragile?"
Did she? Cam bit her lip, knowing that she did. But she loved Jacki so much that she didn't ever want
her to feel alone.
The way she often had.
"Dean's a hoot." Jacki bounded back off the bed and paced the confines of Cam's midsized
bedroom. As a night owl, Jacki was more awake now than at any other time of the day. "Talking to him
isn't like talking to other guys, though."
"He's your brother." Cam gave up on her hair and pul ed it into a damp, snarled ponytail. "We've never had any male relatives around and no close male friends. Natural y, Dean's interaction with you
would feel different from other men."
"Right. I get that. But he's a brother who doesn't know us, Cam. He can't possibly care about us."
Cam didn't know about that. After al , she barely knew him, but she cared. A lot.
A sudden hammering on the roof had them both going stil .
"He found the hammer."
Jacki grinned. "Sounds like. And I'd say he's not cautiously tapping in tacks the way you do."
They both winced when heavy footfal s sounded across the roof, and then more hammering.
A door banged open in the hal way. "What is going on?"
Jacki rol ed her eyes. "Here we go with the drama queen."
"Behave." Pasting on a smile, Cam opened the door and stepped into the hal to greet her aunt. "I'm sorry we woke you, Aunt Lorna."
At one end of the second floor, her aunt had the largest bedroom with her own private bath. Jacki
and Cam had smal er rooms connected by a bathroom that they shared, at the other end.
Just outside her door, Lorna looked from one sister to the other, and her frown of anger turned to
one of confusion. "If you're both here, who's on the roof?"
"Dean."
Lorna's face pinched, making her look ... ridiculous. She slept with her hair in a cotton turban to
protect her salon style. Expensive cream left her skin shiny, and smal pieces of what appeared to be
tape concealed the worst of her wrinkles.
Cam tried not to stare, she real y did.
Jacki wasn't so discreet. "Aunt Lorna, did you cut yourself shaving?"
Lorna's tense gaze went to her. "What are you talking about?"
"You have little strips of surgical tape al over your face."
Like a fresh pasty, Lorna puffed up. "
Imbecile.
A woman does not shave her face."
Cam hid her grin. With the tape between her brows, over her upper lip, and at the corners of her
eyes, shaving did sound absurd.
Jacki just frowned in mock concern. "Then why are you al taped up?"
"It's a wrinkle treatment."
Hoping to intercede before her aunt got truly angry, Cam stepped between the two of them. "Name
cal ing is childish. Aunt Lorna."
An explosion seemed imminent.
Before Lorna could give voice to her anger. Cam added, "And you don't have wrinkles, so why would
you need that stuff?"
Lorna deflated suitably. "Don't try to distract me. I want to know why that man is here."
Jacki leaned around Cam. '"That man is our brother."
"Not that he cares! He made it clear that he—"
"That's enough." One way or another, Cam was determined to have Lorna accept Dean.
"No, young lady, it is not." Lorna stormed down the hal toward Cam. "Why is he here at this ungodly hour?" she demanded. And before Cam could answer, she added suspiciously, "What is he tel ing
you?"
"Tel ing me?" Her aunt made no sense.
Lorna shook a fist. "He's here to meddle, to cause trouble, I tel you. You should never have al owed him into our lives. He'l only—"
That did it.
"He's on the roof,"
Cam shouted, charging forward three big steps. "In the rain, making repairs so that
your
bedroom doesn't flood!"
"Wel !" Lorna drew herself up. "You already put out a bucket to catch the drips. There was no need for him to do a thing. And why didn't you cal Roger instead? In case you've forgotten, he's your
fiance."
"Not yet, he isn't," Jacki insisted. "You keep forgetting that Cam hasn't made him any promises at al .
In fact, you're the only one—"
Again trying to avoid a ful -fledged argument, Cam caught Jacki's arm and started for the stairs. "Go back to bed, Lorna."
"I'm not done talking to you."
Cam said over her shoulder, "Yes, you are." Stil dragging Jacki, Cam neared the open stairwel
overlooking the main living area. Dean stood at the bottom of the stairs.
Dripping. Listening.
Oh God.
He sized Cam up in a single long look. "And I was worried that I'd make too much noise."
He must have heard Lorna, not that Dean would show any reaction to it. As usual, he looked calm
and in control— while she'd just been in a shouting match with her aunt.
Cam was so tired of false smiles, but she drummed up another one. "Dean, I didn't realize you were
done. I'l have the coffee ready in a minute."
His light brown eyes—eyes identical to her own— shifted over to Jacki. "I thought she was going to
make it."
"She and I were talking."
Jacki slipped down the stairs past Cam. "I'l do it." When she neared Dean, she leaned in and said,
"But if you lose al your chest hair from drinking it, you have no one to blame but yourself."
He smiled.
Until he looked at Cam again. "You and I need to talk."
"Of course." He'd pushed his wet hair back and removed his sodden shoes, but his shirt clung to his wide chest. "You need to dry off first though. Let me get you a towel. And if you want, I can put your shirt in the dryer."
He caught her arm before she could rush past him. She turned automatical y and saw his cold gaze
directed up the stairs—clashing with Lorna's.
Now what?
"Show me where the leaks are in the house."
Oh boy. "They're, uh ... mostly in Aunt Lorna's room."
"Al right." He started up the stairs and since he stil held her, Cam could either cause a bigger scene by pul ing away or go along with him.
She chose to go along.
Only Lorna didn't move. She blocked the top of the stairs, and Cam didn't know what would happen.
Dean stopped in front of her. Even one step below Lorna, he towered over her. He waited two
heartbeats, then said, "Move."
And she did just that.
Grumbling and complaining, Lorna sidled out of the way, but fol owed directly on their heels as Dean
compel ed Cam along, going the wrong direction in the hal .
She dug in her heels. 'That's where my and Jacki's rooms are. Aunt Lorna's room is this way."
He glanced back at Lorna and smirked. "You took my parents' room?"
"It was empty." As if she immediately regretted those words, Lorna put a hand to her forehead. "It seemed best not to unsettle Jacki and Cam any further. They'd just lost their parents. Their rooms
were familiar to them."
Dean paused, looking toward the forth bedroom upstairs—across from Lorna's room.
Realization brought a lump to Cam's throat. She put her hand over his, where he clasped her arm.
"That was your room?" The room that had been familiar to a nine-year-old little boy who'd also lost his parents.
It hurt so badly for her to think about it. How must it feel to him?
"Yeah." Dean shook off the sentiment as if it had never been there. "Show me where the leaks are."
Lorna trotted to get ahead of him. She stationed herself at the door, barring him from entering. "I
don't want you in my room."
"Tough." He turned to Cam. "Do you want the leaks fixed or not?"
"Fixed? As in actual y repaired?" Surely he wasn't offering to—
"Patching them every time it rains hasn't helped, has it?"
Not even a little. Cam shook her head, but had to ask, "You saw my patches?"
Real humor lifted Dean's mouth, and for a second there, he looked as if he might laugh. "Yeah.
Pretty pathetic." Then his gaze shifted to Lorna, and the humor vanished. "But at least you tried."
"It doesn't matter," Lorna insisted. "We're sel ing the house anyway."
Dean chose to ignore her and instead turned back to Cam. "You need to reshingle the whole roof. It
should have been done five years ago." His eyes narrowed. "Of course, you were only eighteen then, probably stil in high school."
He deliberately baited Lorna, and Cam knew from experience where that'd go. "Everything seemed
to break on the house at once."
"That's usual y how it is, especial y if no one maintains the property with regular upkeep."
Propping his shoulder on the wal beside Lorna, Dean continued as if she didn't stand there in a
turban, wrinkle tape speckling her face, guarding her door against him.
"There are already two layers of shingles on there, and they're in pretty bad shape, so we're
probably going to have to take them off."
Surprise put a stranglehold on Cam's throat. "We?" she squeaked.
"I need some physical activity to keep me in shape. And Jacki's new sweetheart can help."