When the Earth Moves

Three

The seventh inning was a killer. Boston scored four runs, and the Yanks needed not one but two pitching changes. Things didn’t look good.

At the stretch, it was past nine-thirty. Cam knew they’d never see the end of the game if he was going to get Jo to the airport for an eleven-thirty flight to the West Coast.

Anyway, the Yankees were so deep into the bullpen that this one might be a goner. He still had questions. A lot of questions.

Not that he really gave a rat’s ass what happened to Christine McGrath. But his brothers had just been babies when she drove off like Thelma without Louise. They had a right to know. Especially Colin. Cam’s youngest brother had always blamed himself for their mother’s abandonment, but the little monster had been barely old enough to say his own name when she’d disappeared. He owed the information to Colin, and to Quinn.

He took Jo’s hand and squeezed it, liking any excuse to touch her. “It’s time to go,” he said softly.

Her coppery eyes lit with surprise, then she frowned. “You want to stay for the bottom of this inning, don’t you?”

It was his turn to be surprised—that she’d even make the offer. “Yeah. But I’d rather you didn’t stomp me with one of your cowboy boots for missing your flight.”

They stood, he said his goodbyes to all the box neighbors he spent so many nights with every summer, and he walked her toward the tunnel.

He heard the crack of the bat behind him, knowing by the sound of the crowd that it was a line drive. When he didn’t pause, she looked up at him expectantly.

He gave her a sly grin. “You really don’t think I’d let you be late, do you?” The announcer called a double. Double damn.

Slipping her arm through his, she rewarded him with a million-dollar smile. “Thank you, Cam.”

Aw, hell. That smile was worth missing a grand slam. “No problem. As long as you’re willing to admit the truth now.”

Her step slowed. “The truth?”

He pointed a thumb over his shoulder toward the field. “Dull as dirt?”

“Well…” She dragged out the word and squeezed his arm, the intimacy of the gesture hitting him like a blast of heat. “Your enthusiasm could be contagious.”

He laughed and pulled her closer, noting that her step seemed to lighten and her smile seemed genuine. She could sense she was getting what she came for, and that obviously made her very happy.

“You know, Jo,” he said as they left the stadium and stepped onto the streets of the Bronx, “I gotta tell you something.”

“What?”

Maybe it was the elusive, clean fragrance of her hair, or the feel of her slender arm wrapped through his. Maybe it was the odd companionship he’d felt with the first woman who didn’t try to fake that she understood baseball, but was willing to learn. He didn’t really know what the hell it was, but he felt like telling her exactly what he was thinking. “It’s too bad we had to meet under such bizarre circumstances.”

“Why’s that?” She looked up again, her lips parting slightly, her ridiculous but adorable cowboy hat casting a shadow over her delicate cheeks. “Because you think you could have made a baseball fan out of me?”

He froze in his spot, the desire to kiss her hitting him as hard as that line drive he just missed. “Yeah,” he said, taking off her hat so he could get closer. “And I could, too.”

Face to face, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, he curled his arms around her waist and she did the same around his neck. Their heights were damn near perfect, he thought. Her eyes at his mouth, just a simple head tilt apart.

“You’re going to sign the paper, aren’t you?”

He nodded once. With her gazing up at him with that engaging look of gratitude on her face, he just had to dip his head about three inches…open his mouth to meet hers and…

He kissed her.

She tasted like salt and beer and mint. Her lips were warm and soft and when they opened to him, he skimmed the delicate inside flesh of her mouth with his tongue. His head buzzed with the instant pleasure, and he tensed his arms around her, angling his head to make the kiss more intense and longer.

And it lasted just long enough to start a fire in his body.

Slowly she pulled away. Her eyes were closed, but that beautiful mouth formed a smile. For some reason, that pleased him more than anything. She hadn’t yanked away and called him a jerk who’d forgotten the serious reason she’d come to him. She looked like she thoroughly enjoyed being kissed by him.

“I’ll tell you what,” she whispered, her mouth still close enough to almost feel the movements of her lips.

“What?”

“I’ll teach Callie baseball and I’ll even buy her a Yankee baseball cap. Okay?”

A million clashing emotions rushed through him, but he tamped them all down.

“You do that, sweetheart.” He slid his hands over the curves of her waist and up the sleek, tight muscles of her back.

Then she lifted her face toward him again, a victorious light in her magical eyes. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me.”

This time she leaned into him and initiated the kiss, all that happiness translating into an instant connection between their mouths.

He slanted his head to taste more of her, cupping her face between his hands and then tunneling his fingers into her magnificent hair. He felt himself stir into hardness against her stomach, the flare of desire shooting through his veins like liquid lightning.

He had to get control or she would most definitely miss her flight. Pulling away, he stroked her lower lip with the tip of his finger, resisting the urge to slide that finger into her mouth, where his tongue had been.

“Nothing like a little baseball to warm a lady up,” he said with a smile.

She just smiled and pulled farther away, not contradicting him on the reason for her sudden light and lusty mood. She’d won her game, and they both knew that accounted for her surprising display of affection.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He tugged her toward the cab stand he knew was around the corner of the stadium. “Let’s get to the airport.”

As they reached the stand, he opened the door of the first available waiting cab. “After you.”

But she didn’t move. “No, Cam, you don’t have to go all the way to the airport. Just—” she glanced at his pocket “—sign.” She gave him a heartbreaking look. Half pleading. Half regretful. “Just sign the paper and I’ll be on my way.”

“And miss making out with you in the cab? Are you crazy?”

She let out a quick laugh. “I think we’ve made out enough for one night.”

She reached toward his jacket pocket, but he backed away. “Then we’ll talk.”

There went that pretty eyebrow, straight into a disbelieving arch.

He inched her into the cab. “Really,” he assured her, unable to resist checking out the backside of the body he’d been holding. “We’ll talk.”

Not that he’d mind kissing her in the back of a cab for an hour, but it was time to talk.

Kissing Cameron McGrath had been stupid. And incredible.

Okay, it had been incredibly stupid.

But Jo had been so pleased that he’d agreed to sign the paper, and so…turned on by him. She’d wanted to kiss him. And, truth be told, she wanted to kiss him again.

But she shimmied to the far side of the cab, and he left a good foot of seat between them. Maybe he did want to talk.

If he would just sign the damn consent form, she’d kiss him silly from here to Kennedy. God, it had been so long since any man turned her on like this. She’d been gun-shy for years after her marriage debacle, which had only been an ugly confirmation that her mother’s theory about men was absolutely right: they leave.

She’d kept herself too busy fixing wrecks to pay much attention to the men who came through the door of her shop. One, maybe two had caught her eye and she’d had the occasional interlude with them, but she couldn’t remember anyone who made her legs turn watery and put that twinge in her tummy.

Katie, on the other hand, had pretty much been addicted to that twinge and not only had her legs turned to water, but her brain basically disintegrated in the company of a sexy guy, too. Now, that led to some big messes, and fixing those wrecks had sucked up the rest of Jo’s personal time.

“So, where’s the father?”

His question surprised her—almost like he’d been following her train of thought. “You mean…Callie’s father?” She hated to say the baby’s name. She didn’t want him to form the least bit of an interest in knowing her. In meeting her. If he did, he’d fall in love, of course. Everyone fell in love with Callie on first sight. She was a replica of Katie, gorgeous, beguiling and downright irresistible.

“Were they married?” he asked.

She sniffed. “He was.”

“Oh.” There was a definite note of disappointment in his voice.

She gave him a tight smile. “In her defense, she didn’t know—at first.”

“And he doesn’t want to take care of his own kid?” Disappointment turned to disgust.

“He’d rather his wife and kids didn’t know about Callie. He gave up parental rights long before the baby was born.”

Cameron blew out a breath and looked out his window. “Why the hell did she mess around with a married man? Was she stupid or something?”

“No,” Jo said quickly. “She was very smart. Brilliant about some things. The business, the books. All that stuff. But…she had a weakness for smooth-talking, good-looking guys. And they, most of the time, had a weakness for her.”

He snorted softly. “You know what they say about the apple and the tree.”

Jo’s spine stiffened at the comment, and she turned to him, stabbing a single finger in his direction. “Look, you can throw your insults at Katie. After all, she’s your little sister and she was a royal pain in the butt. But you cannot—I repeat, cannot—insult Aunt Chris. That woman was a saint.”

“Aunt Chris, is it?” This time he choked a bitter laugh. “We are definitely not talking about the same Christine McGrath.”

Could she be hearing him right? He did blame Chris.

“Why was she a pain in the butt?” he asked before she could set the record straight. At her questioning look, he clarified, “Katie. You said she was a pain in the butt.”

“She was…” How could she put it? “A poor judge of character.” Because Katie longed for a man to fill the void that having no father had caused.

A spurt of guilt accompanied that thought. God, she didn’t want that to happen to Callie. But it hadn’t happened to Jo—and she’d been raised without a father. That desperation didn’t have to happen to a fatherless girl.

“Was she a—” He gave her a meaningful look, and she gave him a point for avoiding the ugly word.

“No,” Jo assured him. “She had morals. She wasn’t a loose girl. She just got involved with a married man and got pregnant. Not the first girl in history to make that mistake.”

“Were you close to her?”

“Like sisters.”

In the shadows of the cab, she thought she saw him wince at that. “How’d you meet her?”

“Chris came to Sierra Springs when I was three, almost four. She was pregnant and looking for work. Evidently, she and my mom—the only other single mother in town at the time—hit it off. Mom gave her a job at her beauty salon and they practically lived next door to each other. Chris was like my aunt, which is what I’ve always called her. And Katie was just always…there. Ever since I can remember.”

For a long time he didn’t say anything. He stared out her window, his expression pained. Jo studied his face, the heart-stopping features changing from dark to light with the passing cars. His deep-blue eyes had a faraway look, his square jaw clenched with some unspoken emotion.

Don’t think too much, Cam. Don’t change your mind.

Just sign the damn petition.

She didn’t want to push too hard, but her nerves felt frayed from waiting. “Have we talked enough yet?” She sucked in a quiet breath, and held it while she waited for his answer.

His gaze shifted from the world outside to focus on her, the hint of seduction back in his eyes as his expression relaxed. “Ready to make out?”

She almost laughed at the tease. “Will you sign that paper now?”

His lips curled up in a smile, and he moved imperceptibly closer, his now-familiar scent tickling her nose as he invaded the little bit of space between them. “You are persistent, I’ll give you that.”

“You should see me rough out a dent.”

“I’d like to,” he whispered, closing more space.

She tapped his rock-hard chest. “Sign.”

He slid his hand under her hair. “Kiss.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“Actually, it’s extortion.” He moved so close she could see the dilated pupils against his irises, even in the unlit cab.

She forced herself to turn to the window, in time to read a green-and-white highway sign as they passed it. “We’re almost at the airport.”

His gaze dropped over her face, settling on her mouth. She had to fight the urge to pull his head closer, to press her mouth against his again. Instead, she reached into his suit jacket pocket and closed her fingers around the envelope.

He must have known what she was doing, but he didn’t stop her.

“Here.” She held it out to him. “Do you need a pen?”

He didn’t take the paper, instead he dropped back against the seat with an air of defeat. “I need to read it.”

Her heart sank. “It’s long. A lot of legalese.”

“My native tongue.”

The cabbie suddenly knocked on the privacy window. “What airline?”

Oh, Lord. They’d arrived at JFK and she still didn’t have his signature.

She opened the envelope while Cameron leaned forward to talk to the cab driver. The document was short, just two pages. On the bottom of the second page was a line for his signature. Digging through her bag, she found a ballpoint pen.

“Here.” She handed both to him.

He just shook his head. “Inside. I’ll read it in the terminal.”

She had to accept that.

The cab pulled to a stop at the departures terminal. While Cameron paid for the cab, she climbed out, holding the paper.

“You don’t have any other bags?” he asked as they headed into the terminal.

“I didn’t plan on staying.”

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