Heat of the Moment (2 page)

“Your sweater. I've never seen one quite like it. It's . . . unusual.”

She shrugged. “It's the first sweater I ever made. I know it's not perfect, but it's warm and comfortable, and my knitting has greatly improved since I learned that if you knit both sleeves at the same time, there's a much better chance they'll end up the same length.”

“I can see why that's important.” His lips quirked at the corners, and she held her breath for a smile that didn't take shape. “I didn't mean to insinuate that there's anything wrong with it. I just meant it's . . . unique.”

“Another adjective that means
weird
. Nice try, but I'm not buying it. I've been doing a lot of knitting for the Women's Auxiliary at the hospital—”

“Erin?”

She stopped speaking. If Kendall had told her Cameron O'Leary was the male equivalent of a cashmere-angora blend, she wouldn't have believed it. “Yes?”

“About the position.”

“Right.” The reason she was there in the first place. The job—a job that would get her through this semester. “Yes, I'm interested.”

“Okay, let me show you around. Can you start Monday?”

***

Erin stepped into Kendall Watkins's cloffice—an office that was about the size of a small closet—for their weekly lunch date.

The light from the window shone directly on Kendall like a spotlight on a starlet crossing the stage. It was difficult having a best friend who was so gorgeous. Kendall was Erin's exact opposite. The adjective most often used to describe Erin was quirky. It wasn't as if she needed a bag over her head, but she would never be compared to Kendall in the looks department.

Kendall had that gorgeous combination of ivory skin, raven hair, and onyx eyes set off by high cheekbones and perfectly arched dark brows. The odd thing was that Kendall seemed completely unaware of her classic beauty. Maybe it was because she'd only dated one man and was blind to the way all the other men fell over themselves (and sometimes over Erin) to get to her.

Kendall and her fiancé, David, had been together since they were fourteen. Who did that? Erin had heard of people marrying their high school sweethearts but never middle school sweethearts. Maybe she wouldn't think it was so weird if David wasn't such a tool. Either Kendall didn't know the man she was marrying half as well as she should, or David suffered from multiple personality disorder, because the man Erin had met held no resemblance to the one Kendall had talked about for the last three years.

Unfortunately, Erin didn't think she was in a position to say anything. The only thing a single friend, who'd never had a real relationship to speak of, could do was wish Kendall well, pray she'd stop worshipping at the altar of David, and get a clue.

“How did the interview go?”

Erin dropped the salads she'd picked up on the way to Kendall's office and sank into the chair, trying to figure out what to say. Luckily, her expression must have told the story.

“That bad? What happened?”

Erin didn't bother trying to hide her blush, as if she could. Her face felt as if it had spent four hours in a tanning booth set on fry. “Cameron O'Leary had no idea he had an interview scheduled.”

“I texted Cam the information.”

“He didn't see it. You could have told me the interview was unconfirmed. If you had, when he answered the door looking confused, maybe I wouldn't have blurted out that I was late. The poor man turned so white, he looked like that star of
Twilight
but with a much better body, and I turned red at the implication that we'd had sex.”

“Excuse me?”

“He said that six months after the last time a woman told him that, she walked away from him and their newborn baby, but since he'd never seen me before, he thought it was a different kind of late.”

Kendall's mouth tightened and went straight as the ruler she tapped against her desk with increasing speed—Kendall's version of a knee slap, indicating laughter so hysterical it was silent due to lack of breathing.

“Go ahead. Let it out. I know you want to. It would have been pretty funny if it hadn't happened to me.” She waited for Kendall to collect herself. “It would have been nice if you had clued me in.”

“Clued you in to what?”

“Oh, I don't know . . . maybe that Cameron O'Leary is obviously single. He never came right out and said it, but his living room looked like a frat house on the day of a party before the kegs were delivered, except for the Barbie Dream House in the corner.”

Kendall's head snapped back. “What does his marital status have to do with anything? It was a job interview, not a date.”

“Because it's a live-in position. He's single. I'm single. Would it have killed you to share the fact that my interviewer and future boss is gorgeous enough to be one of those hot, shirtless guys posted on every nurse's Facebook wall with the caption ‘Patient Wanted'?”

Kendall might not have said so, but from the look in her eyes, Erin knew she was having her own little personal celebration. “It never crossed my mind.”

“Yeah, right, like I believe that.” If there was one thing that drove Erin totally nuts, it was the way Kendall constantly tried to fix her up with every single man between the ages of twenty-one and forty with a full-time job and an IQ over fifty.

“The only thing I thought was that you'd be a great match for Janie. You need to finish your thesis and Janie needs to catch up on her schoolwork and make a smooth transition from hospital patient to normal, healthy kid. That's a difficult thing to do when you have a dad who is overprotective. Lord knows he has cause. He's gone through hell for the last two years thinking his little girl would die. Now Cam is almost afraid to believe Janie's fine.” She slumped back into her chair. “I'm really sorry it didn't work out. A month with you would have been good for Janie.” She started flipping through files. “Now I have to come up with someone else to call.”

“No, you don't.” Erin blew out a breath. “I got the job.”

“You did? But I thought—”

“I start Monday, but—”

Kendall raised a hand to stop her, or maybe just to stall her until she found her notebook.

It was a look Erin had been on the receiving end of more than once. The one that made her wonder if Kendall wasn't using her to log some psychotherapist couch time without permission. Kendall might work as a hospital social worker, but she wanted nothing more than to move to New Hampshire, marry David, and start a family therapy practice. She had no problem practicing on Erin in the interim.

“Erin, what's really bothering you?”

Fine, couch time it is. “I've never lived with a man before—not that we're going to be
living together
living together. It's just that I'm not good with men. It's difficult for me to walk with them around since I spend ninety percent of my time with at least one foot in my mouth.”

Kendall let out a musical laugh, stood, and grabbed the bag with their lunch in it. “You never had a hard time talking to male doctors. You were always professional and succinct.”

“I'm a nurse. That's part of the job.”

“So talk to Cam like you would a doctor. When he comes home, give him a normal report on Janie just like you would on any of your patients.”

Okay, she could do that. She'd just pretend he was wearing a white coat and had a stethoscope wrapped around his neck. She pictured it and tried not to drool. “Then what? What do I do the rest of the time? Hide in my room?”

“You remember that you're there for Janie and not Cameron. Speaking of Janie”—Kendall checked her watch—“she should be getting her lunch right about now. Come on, I'll introduce you and we'll have a picnic in her room.”

Cam looked in his rearview mirror at Janie in the backseat. She wore a hand-knit hat that sat crooked on her perfect little head. The hat was soft and bright pink, so Janie loved it and insisted on wearing it home. It didn't matter that it clashed so badly with her hunter green coat it almost hurt his eyes.

“Daddy, look!” She pointed out the window. “They're here!”

Cam recognized the two cars parked in front of the house. He pulled into the driveway to see his brothers and father holding up a homemade sign that read: W
ELCOME
H
OME,
J
ANIE!

Great, just great. So much for his plans for a quiet homecoming. You could use a thousand euphemisms to describe the O'Leary men;
quiet
would never make the list. It wasn't as if he didn't love his family—he did. He was just looking forward to spending some time alone with Janie on her first day home. Still, it was great to see the smile that split Janie's face in two and showed off her gap-toothed grin.

Adam came around the car and threw open her door, and Janie all but launched herself into his open arms. He caught her and held her away from him, giving her a once-over. “What's that on your head? Is your hair coming in pink?”

“No, silly. It's a hat.”

Adam caught Cam's eye over the top of the jeep. “I've never seen a hat like that before. Where'd you find it?”

“It was a gift. It's homemade.” Like that explained it.

“Well, it sure looks pretty on you, darlin'.” He gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek, set her back on her feet, and gave her a pat on the butt to get her moving in the direction of the others.

Butch was next to grab her; he swung her into his arms and Janie held the ugly hat to her head to keep from losing it. “Hey, sweet cheeks. Welcome home.” He tickled her tummy and received a giggly squeal in return.

It had been too long since Cam had heard her giggle like that. Way too long. Before he knew it, Janie was back on her feet and running to her grandpa.

Ryan O'Leary bent down just in time for Janie to wrap her arms around his thick neck, and he picked her up before nodding toward Cam. “There's food and beer in the car. You and your brothers get it out while I take this little love bug inside where it's warm.”

Butch gave Cam a slap on the back. “Lolly sent enough food for an army. She's afraid you'll forget to feed Janie.”

Lolly was his dad's on-again/off-again girlfriend. It looked like it was on again. She had helped take care of Janie before Cam moved them to Boston. She'd never forgiven him for moving away. “That was nice of her.”

“She made sure to tell me it wasn't for your benefit and if you don't bring Janie around soon, she's threatened to visit.”

Cam shuddered.

“Your moving away from Portsmouth with Janie has been hard on all of us.”

Cam retrieved the box of food and handed it to Butch. “It's a forty-five-minute drive. It's not as if we moved across the damn country. And making Lolly happy is not my first priority. Janie is.”

“Don't you think she'd be better off at home with all of us instead of being raised by some uptight nanny?”

“I think Janie's better off having a father who's not likely to die in the line of duty. I took this job because it's safer.” He knew his dad and brothers missed her, and hell, they'd worried about Janie almost as much as he had in the last few years. “She's going to be fine and you guys can come visit her any time. You know that.”

Adam reached in and grabbed the case of beer. “Yeah, but it's not the same as having her home with us.”

Cam had half a mind to tell Butch and Adam to have their own kids. Janie was his. Part of the reason he left was because he didn't think living with four single men—two of whom had revolving bedroom doors when it came to women—was a good atmosphere in which to raise a little girl. It had been different when Janie was a baby. She wasn't a baby any longer.

Cam gathered the duffel bag full of Janie's things and an armful of teddy bears to add to her collection, and followed his brothers into the house.

Dad had relieved Janie of her coat, but was still trying to talk her into taking off that weird hat of hers.

“No, Grandpa, it's pretty and it's special—just like me. Besides, it feels good.”

His dad pulled her onto his lap and rubbed his hand over the fuzzy hat. “It does feel good. What's it made of?”

Janie shrugged. “I don't know, but Miss Kendall said it was made with love—that's why it's so soft and warm. She said the yarn looks like caterpillars. And it's my favorite color. It's cool, huh?”

“It sure is, peanut.”

Cam took Janie's things to her room and shoved her collection of bears on the overflowing pile contained by the net hammock he'd hooked up in the corner. He emptied her clothes into the hamper, not caring if they were clean or dirty—they were all going through the wash. He hoped it took the sick scent of hospital out of everything.

On his way downstairs, he heard the guys rustling around in the kitchen. Someone slammed the oven door and the beep sounded as they set the temperature. He found Janie still tucked against his dad. “Janie, do you want some juice or water?”

She scrambled off the couch. “I'll get it myself.”

“That's my girl.” As a baby, Janie wasn't much of a talker, but when she started speaking she spoke in full sentences. After
Daddy
,
Uncle
, and
Grandpa
,
I'll do it myself
were her first words. His daughter always knew what she wanted and usually had a plan to get it. He was just lucky that her determination ran toward survival too. He followed her into the kitchen where she climbed a chair to reach the glasses. “Your sippy cups are still in the drawer.”

“I know, but I want a big-girl glass now. I'm almost eight.”

“Okay.” He raised an eyebrow, pulled a longneck out of the fridge, and shot the bottle cap into the trash can. It was nice to have little Miss Independent home.

He leaned against the counter and watched Janie pour juice, overshooting the glass. Her hands shook and he put the brakes on his urge to help. She self-corrected and pulled it out in the end.

Cam was just thankful Janie had enough strength to set the jug down without dropping it. The smile of triumph on her face more than made up for the mess on the counter and the potential mess she'd probably make walking around with a juice glass sans spill protection. The thought of it brought a smile to his face—he would never again take sticky countertops and kitchen floors for granted. Of course, Janie now had more juice in one glass than a kid should drink in a week, but he wasn't about to say anything.

Adam sidled up to him and tapped longnecks. “So, did you get the number for that hot nurse before you left the hospital?”

When a picture of Erin Crosby with Adam flashed through his mind, he squeezed his beer bottle so hard, he was surprised it didn't shatter in his hand.

Butch laughed. “I doubt it, since Nurse Cary and I have a date later tonight.”

Cary, not Erin. Hell, his brothers probably never even met Erin—nor would they if he had anything to say about it. All she needed were those two bozos hanging around.

After dinner he put Janie to bed early—he wasn't sure if it was the excitement of coming home, the impromptu family party, or if she was just weak and damn tired, but her eyes drooped long before she finished her banana split.

Maybe he'd taken longer than normal to be sure Janie was safe and warm and sound asleep. Maybe he sat there in the dark listening to her breathe and thanking God she was well enough to come home. Maybe he was just a little afraid to leave her. By the time he returned to the kitchen, his dad and brothers had pulled out the cards and more beer. The next thing he knew, Cam was losing his shirt.

Adam threw down his cards and left the table while the rest of them finished the hand.

Cam folded, returned what little was left of his cash to his pocket, and tiptoed to Janie's room to check on her. He found Adam leaning against the wall, watching Janie sleep. “Janie hates it when people watch her like she's some kind of science experiment,” he whispered.

Adam crossed his arms. “She's asleep.”

“Yeah, and I'd like to keep it that way.” Janie had been born with a full head of hair; now she was sporting peach fuzz. It didn't matter though. It seemed that Liz had only left one stamp on Janie—her fine features. Even bald as a cue ball, Janie was a beautiful little girl. “Janie's home and she's fine.” At least that's what he kept telling himself. It looked as if he wasn't the only one having trouble believing it.

Adam looked straight at him, his eyes unnaturally bright in the glow of the night-light. “Are you sure? We're just supposed to take some doctor's word for it?”

“She has a team of doctors, not just one.”

“How do they know?”

Shit, Cam wished he knew. “They know. They can tell from blood tests, CAT scans, and MRIs. They know.”

He had to believe that the doctors knew what they were talking about when they told him Janie was cancer free and could resume living the life of a normal almost-eight-year-old girl. He had to believe that in ten years he'd be waiting by the door to threaten Janie's boyfriends and not visiting her grave. He had to believe that after two years of fighting to keep Janie alive, it was safe to breathe normally again.

Butch, the youngest of the O'Leary brothers, stepped into the darkened room. “Is Janie okay?”

“She's fine,” Cam and Adam said in whispered stereo.

Janie rolled over and they held their collective breaths until she settled back into her pillows, her arms wrapped around a well-loved stuffed Snoopy.

“You're going to wake her. Get out.” Cam pushed his brothers out to the hall and right into his father. He nudged aside the welcome home balloons tied to the banister and strong-armed his family downstairs, praying they'd leave. “Butch, don't you have a hot date tonight?

***

Erin held her iPhone to her ear with her shoulder—something she hated to do—and answered Kendall's question. “Yes, Mother, I'm packing.”

“Do you have your research? At least at first, I don't think Cam would be happy with you packing Janie up to run home if you forgot something.”

“Yes, I have a box of books, my papers, laptop, and printer.”

“What else?”

“Yarn and knitting needles. I hope I packed enough.”

“I have a feeling you'd sooner forget your underwear than your yarn. Erin, remember you're only going as far as Medford. It's not as if you're moving to Antarctica.”

“Still, in my mind, the only thing worse than not having a knitting project to work on is not having a book handy. Which reminds me—” She grabbed her e-reader and charger and tossed them in the backpack with her computer.

“Clothes?”

“Yeah, well, that's a firm almost.” Erin looked at the basket of laundry she'd thrown on her bed. “It's all washed, I just haven't gotten around to folding it and putting it in my suitcase.”

“I can't believe even you would leave your clothes for last.”

“There are very few things I hate more than folding laundry, you know that. The only way I get through it is by watching
Pride and Prejudice
while I do it.”

“The movie?”

“Oh, God no, the BBC miniseries.”

“That's gotta be five hours long.”

“So? Darcy gets me through hours of laundry—not all at one time, mind you. But that's what pause buttons on the DVD player are for.” She made a mental note to pack the DVDs when she finished folding. She was almost at her favorite part. Her phone beeped. “Kendall, I've got to go. I have another call coming in.”

“Looks like Mr. Darcy is going to have to wait. Don't forget to pack while you're talking.”

“Will do. Bye.” She tapped the screen to end the call and take the other. “Hello?”

“Erin, it's Cam O'Leary.”

His deep voice set off a flurry of bat-sized butterflies that didn't have the decency to stay in her stomach. They fluttered into her lungs too. Damn. “Hi.” The memory of their first and only meeting had her running to the bathroom to grab a box of tampons and her birth control pills. Not that the thought of Cam made her think of birth control, just of being
that
kind of late. But if she were that kind of late, it would be the second Immaculate Conception. “What can I do for you?”

“I'm sorry to disturb you on a Saturday night. I'm not interrupting you on a date or anything, am I?”

She almost laughed. “No, the only thing you're interrupting is my packing.”

“Oh, thank God. Look, Erin, I know this is short notice—well, no notice actually—but I was wondering if you could help me out of a bind. Is there any way you could start earlier than agreed to?”

“How much earlier?” She'd planned to move her things tomorrow night.

“As soon as you can get here? I got called into work. The investigator on call is in the hospital. His wife went into premature labor—they're trying to stop it, but he can't leave her.”

“I understand.” She looked at her queen-size bed strewn with clothes. “When do you need me?”

“As soon as you can be here. I have no way of knowing if it will be an all-nighter or not, so if it wouldn't be too much of an imposition, I was hoping you could start now. I might be on call for the next few days.”

“Is an hour okay? I need a few minutes to finish packing.” She decided to toss everything in her duffel bag and worry about the wrinkles later. “Or I could just grab a change of clothes—”

“No, an hour is fine. I really appreciate this. If I had gotten the call a little earlier, I could have had my father stay with Janie, but I'm sure he's home in Portsmouth by now.”