When the Earth Moves

  Wordlessly, to a silent beat she heard in her head, she began to strip.

  His jaw slackened and his gaze dropped.

  She tugged the white sweater out of the waistband of the skirt and slowly pulled it over her head. When it was off, she dropped it on the floor and shook her head, letting her long hair fall around her shoulders.

  Then she touched the front clasp of her bra with one finger, moistening her lips with her tongue.

  His eyes widened. "You" he mouthed the word and pointed to her "are one sexy woman." A wild sensation jumped through her. Power. Danger. Sex.

  Yeah. This was fun .

  And if this was what it felt like to be a girly-girl, a feminine, daring, provocative woman, then she was in for life. She managed not to smile with the sheer joy of her discovery, as she removed her bra and exposed her breasts to him.

  He drank her in, the unbridled lust in his eyes zinging her nipples to attention. She slid the skirt over her hips, and as she did, driven by some female fox she didn't even know lived inside of her, she turned around and slowly bent over. Just enough to hear him moan. Just enough to show off her black thong and high heels.

  And tattoo.

  "Now that's what I call a twist on traditional." His voice was husky. "And don't even think about taking those shoes off."

  She ran her hands slowly up her legs until she stood straight, then slowly turned back to him, tweaking her peaked breasts with her fingertips. Taking two slow steps toward him, she reached her arms around his neck and lifted her chest to him with an invitation in her eyes.

  She heard him swear softly under his breath, then his mouth closed over one breast, his hand over the other. His lips were like fire on her skin, and she dug her fingers into his hair and pressed against him.

  She ldssed the top of his head, bursting with the need to share her newfound feminine thrill with him. "Cam," she whispered, pulling his face up to hers. "I have to tell you something."

  He released her and looked up into her eyes. "What is it, Jo? What do you want to tell me?"

  He looked so expectant. Like he knew what she was going to say. How could he? "I'm not a tomboy after all."

  He dropped his head back and let out a quick laugh. "What was your first clue?"

  "Seriously," she told him, easing him on his back. "I never thought I could pull off this sexy, girly stuff. You know. I'm a collision-repair expert."

  "I know you are." His voice had turned serious and low. "You sure fixed me."

  The look in his eyes took her breath away. "I did?"

  He nodded, pulling her gently on top of him. "I've never felt so together, so whole in my life, Jo. All that old stuff" he shook his head in wonder "that pain is gone."

  His words were like music to her heart. Tracing his cheek and jaw with a single finger, she whispered, "I told you wrecks were my specialty."

  He glided his hands over her back, his fingers closing around the strap of her thong. "You're very, very good, Jo Tremaine."

  With a sly smile, she leaned up on her hands. "I'm not done yet."

  Slowly she unbuckled his belt, unfastened his pants and pushed them down. He helped her with his shoes and boxers, then pulled his shirt over his head. "Let me do this," she whispered. "Let me."

  "No objections, honey." She laughed a little at his lawyerly tone, then began to flutter kisses over the course hair of his muscular chest. She licked her way down each stomach muscleone, two, three beautiful planes of manlinessand then enclosed him in her two hands. "Oh" He groaned softly and moved into her hands. Her tongue darted over the velvety head, tasting salt and skin and the delicious essence of Cameron's moisture. Slowly she eased him into her mouth, as a rumble started somewhere deep in his chest and his fingers tightened his grip on her hair.

  That same insane sense of power and femininity rolled through her, twisting her own core with desire, thrilling her.

  She buried him against her tongue and teeth, and over the thumping of her pulse she heard him say her name and plead for more.

  She quieted him with one hand flat on his stomach and the other curled around him. Her tongue encircled him, her lips pulled just enough to torture and tease him and her fingers nestled into the warm sack of his manhood.

  She consumed him as far as she could with her mouth, her hand stroking the rest of him. Suddenly his grip on her shoulders tightened.

  "Wait." Did he say wait ? "C'mere," he urged, reaching under her arms to pull her up.

  "I'm busy." She tried to sound put out, but he wasn't kidding. His expression was solemn, his eyes dark with unsaid words as they searched her face. "What is it, Cam?"

  He just shook his head for a second, as though he couldn't talk. "I want to make love to you," he finally whispered.

  "Isn't that what we're doing?"

  He almost smiled. "You're giving me pleasure."

  "That's the general idea, counselor. Do you have to clarify every point?"

  "I want to make love to you." This time he said it very slowly, as though English were not her first language. "I want to show you that I" His words faltered, his eyes narrowed.

  And her heart stopped.

  Before he could say it, she kissed him, rubbing herself over his erection and hopefully stopping him from saying what she was terrified to hear.

  If he loved her. it would hurt far too much ifif he left.

  Reaching over to the nightstand, she grabbed one of the few condoms they had left. "Okay," she agreed. "You win."

  Tearing it open with her teeth and keeping her gaze trained on him, she pulled out the flattened disk of latex with trembling hands and slid it over him with expert speed. Still on top of him, she sat up and lowered herself onto him, dropping her head back as he entered her.

  Her hair tickled her lower back, and Cameron's fingers twined into it. She expected him to grab her hips, to furiously move her over Mm.

  But he was changing the rules. He had the hungry look of desire, but he pulled her body down so that their chests touched and he kissed her.

  "Take it easy, sweetheart," he crooned into a kiss. "Easy."

  As if to demonstrate, he matched each leisurely thrust of his tongue with an equally measured thrust of his body into her. He gently rocked against her, then stopped, pressing her so tightly against him, so deeply inside her that she could feel the tip of him touch the farthest reaches of her body.

  "Jo Ellen," he whispered against her mouth. "Listen to me."

  She closed her eyes and held on. "Yes?"

  "I love you."

  She heard the whimper that came from her throat. Cam, don't do this. Don't make this hurt when it's over.

  But she couldn't say anything. Instead she lunged harder over Mm. He squeezed her hips. "Did you hear me?" he demanded gently.

  She just writhed up and down, letting the incredible feeling erase everything. All common sense. All potential loss and pain. Everything but the burning need to keep moving until she lost herself and let the words and the erotic sensations collide inside of her.

  It started quickly. A tight coil inside her, wrapped around his erection. She clutched his hips with her legs. He loosened his grip and let her ride. Faster. Harder. She sheathed herself over him, feeling him all the way inside her.

  She squeezed her eyes closed and heard her own short, ragged breath, heard her voice moan and say his name.

  And she heard him repeat those deadly words. "I love you," he whispered to her. "I love you, Jo."

  The pressure was too much. She bucked against him as her whole body constricted around his, and then waves of heavenly relief rocked her and rocked her and rocked her until she was lost in a haze of satisfaction.

  At that moment he thrust one last, furious time into her, and a long, agonizing moan tore from his chest as he climaxed.

  Sweat mixed with tears and saliva on her cheeks, so she buried her face into his neck and listened to the words that pounded in her brain. / love you, too . But she refused to say them out loud.


  * * *

  Chapter Eleven

  He could no longer postpone the inevitable heartbreak of the truth. The right thing to do. The healing of the Mc-Grath hurt, no matter how much it hurt her.

  Was it possible she would understand? Could they find a compromise? A way she could stay in Callie's life but have his mother's and his brother's wishes fulfilled?

  He waited until both of their breathing had slowed, until their mingled perspiration had left them chilled.

  He started by pulling her into his chest, close to his heart. "Jo, I need to tell you something."

  "I don't want to talk," she said sleepily, sitting up to unbuckle the shoes she still wore. "I need to get under the covers. I'm cold. I'm tired."

  While she sat on the edge of the bed and removed the last vestiges of her sex-kitten act, he straightened the comforter and waited for her to join him.

  Turning on his side, he studied her stiff movements in the lamplight. He recognized an uncooperative witness when he faced one. "I want to ask you a question."

  "I sense a cross-examination, counselor."

  He laughed at how well she knew him already, but continued. "Do you believe me?"

  They both knew that he referred to his admission of love. She waited a moment before answering.

  "Here's what I think," she finally said. "I think you're floating in an unreal state of euphoria because you have finally rid yourself of the biggest heartache in your life. And you think I'm responsible for this newfound joy. But all I did was tell you"

  He sat up and touched her arm. "All you did was drop into my life and force me to grow up and feel things that have petrified me for years."

  She turned to him, her eyes wide and sincere. "Are you petrified of love?"

  He nodded. "I was."

  "Well, I still amr

  At the catch in her throat, he pulled her into Ms arms and laid her next to him. She'd told him of her first husband leaving. He knew about her father taking off when she was a baby. No wonder she was scared.

  But, damn, if he didn't tell her now about his mother's will, he could rightfully be accused of being the most deceptive, immoral man in the world, raising her distrust of men to a new level altogether.

  He took a deep breath. "I have to tell you something that I think is going to upset you."

  "You already have." Her lips kicked into a droll smile.

  "My mother left a will."

  He felt her whole body stiffen.

  "She stipulated that if she should beincapacitated in any way during a time when she was in custody of Callie, that said custody should revert to me." He swallowed, hating the lawyerly tone that had taken over.

  Slowly she lifted herself to a half-sitting position. "Excuse me?"

  "Your mother showed me the will."

  She blinked at him. "What are you saying? What difference does it make? They are both dead."

  "My mother lived for hours after Katie died, Jo." He forced his voice to be gentle. "Technically, what she foresaw actually happened."

  "She said that because Katie was a flight risk!" Jo practically shouted. "She was immature and given to stupid decisions. She thought Katie might leave town, if the pressure of being a mom was too much, and she was worried about the baby. Not because she thoughtshe thoughtoh!" She dropped her head into her hands and let out a low moan. "Even she didn't think I was a suitable mother."

  "What?" He sat up and took her shoulders. "What are you talking about?"

  "They always joked about it. They teased me about being a tomboy, about not having maternal instincts, about holding a man's job." She blew out a frustrated breath. "Deep inside, Aunt Chris didn't even think I could be Callie's mother."

  "No, no," he insisted, trying to fold her into him. "She thought Callie would bring our family back together. To finally close wounds that my dad created through sheer stupidity and stubbornness."

  Her eyes flashed in the dim light. "Do you believe that? For one second, do you really believe that?"

  "I don't know what I believe anymore," he admitted.

  "I just know that" He took another long, slow breath. "My brothers are coming here on Saturday to get Callie."

  She jumped out of his arms, the raw, real pain on her face visible even in the dim light.

  "But I don't agree with that, Jo, and I"

  In a flash she was off the bed. "Stop talking, Cam. Just don't say another word."

  She bounded to her closet, yanked open the door and pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. Slowly he started to climb from the bed, but she twirled around and held out one hand.

  "Stop. Don't move. Don't talk."

  He froze and watched her slide into little brown boots. Then she stared at him.

  This was his sentencing. This was his punishment. Would she ever give him a chance? All he wanted to do was work this out. Be with her.

  Marry her and raise Callie together.

  The realization almost knocked him over. God in heaven, that was what he wanted. He started to speak, to tell her, to propose to her, but then she held both hands up.

  "I'm leaving now. When I come back, you'll be gone. Do you understand?" Her voice didn't so much as quiver.

  He just looked at her. If he asked her to marry him now, she'd laugh in his face. No matter how much he meant it. And he did. He would leave New York in a heartbeat. He wasn't happy at his job anymore. He'd take the California Bar. Live here, in the mountains, with Jo and Callie and

  "Do you understand?" she repeated. "I want you to be gone by morning when I come home with Callie."

  ''Jo. Listen to me. I'm serious"

  "'Gone." He could see her clench her jaw as she raised her face to him. "And don't you ever throw around the word love in front of me again."

  Without another word she walked out of the room and clunked down the creaky steps in her boy boots. He heard the truck start up and the gravel spew as she drove into the night.

  Before he packed his bag, he wrote one long, honest e-mail to Colin and Quinn and hoped they read it before they went to sleep that night. They needed to know where he stood.

  The first thing Jo intended to do when she arrived at her mother's house was wake up Callie.

  "What are you doing, Jo?" Her mother was hot on her heels as they traveled down the hallway, her tone revealing that she was none too happy with her daughter's near-midnight arrival, and doubly unhappy about waking the baby. "I just gave her a bottle an hour ago. Don't you dare wake up that child."

  But Jo ignored her mother and dipped into the portable crib she kept in Jo's childhood bedroom of the tiny ranch house. Callie stirred and gurgled, then snuggled into Jo's arm.

  "Hey, peanut, I missed you," Jo whispered, kissing the black curls and closing her eyes to inhale the scent she loved. "I really missed you."

  Her mother leaned against the doorjamb, and Jo shot her a long, angry look. She was as much a part of this conspiracy as Aunt Chris and her masters-of-the-uni-verse sons.

  But first, all Jo wanted to do was suck in a deep breath of Callie. She dropped onto the twin bed where she'd slept as a little girl, and cuddled the baby closer. Then she looked up at her mother.

  "They're taking her."

  Alice nodded slowly. "I thought they might."

  Jo felt her eyes narrow in fury. "Why would you do this to me? To Callie?"

  Shaking her head slowly, Alice stepped into the room. "Baby, I'm not doing anything to you."

  When she sat on the bed, Jo instinctively turned the baby away and her mother's eyes darkened with hurt.

  "You're not? You didn't even tell me about this will. You told him." She shook her head. "You told him first."

  And the next thing he did was make love to her on the mountainside, she realized with a jolt of anger and indignation.

  Alice sighed deeply. "Honey, that's what Aunt Chris wanted. And you have to understand something. For the last twenty-six years, I've carried the burden of Chris McGrath's secret. All she wanted in the whole world was for he
r daughter to know her sons. But she was so scared those boys had developed such a hatred for her, that they would shun Katie. So she waited and waited."

  "She waited too long," Jo said softly. "Anyway, she was dead wrong. They would have loved Katie as much as we did." Cameron would have, anyway, and she suspected the other two were made of the same stuff. Fair. Good. Kind.

  Her heart squeezed, and she tugged Callie a little tighter into her chest.

  "Yes, she did wait too long," her mother agreed, reaching over to touch Callie's little head. "But I owed her closure and peace. She was my closest friend. My dearest, dearest friend. She came to my rescue as much as I came to hers all those years ago. I was still smarting from your father walking out, wondering how on earth I would raise a child alone. And she swooped into

  Sierra Springs and we were unified. A better Mend never existed."

  Jo shifted to look at her mother. "That's fine, Mom. I respect that. But do you really think she belongs with the McGraths and not us?"

  Alice drew in a long, deep breath, her gaze moving from the baby to Jo. "Chris obviously believed she belongs with blood. That family has been ripped in half, and it appears those boys are just coming out of years of pain. And finding happiness, from what your Cameron told me the other day."

  "He's not my Cameron," she corrected. "But what about Katie? She was Callie's mother. Would she have wanted her baby to be raised by strangers, even strangers whose blood she unknowingly shared?"

  "That's a good point," Alice acknowledged. "But you know what Katie was like. Always searching for that man to be the father she never had. I suspect finding out she had three big brothers who could love her might have made her happier than any of the short flings she indulged in over the years."

  Jo silently agreed. Katie would have adored Cameron. And he, she knew, would have been just as charmed by Katie. He might have finally set her on the straight pathone that Jo had tried, but failed, to show Katie.

  A hard, painful lump formed in her throat, and she attempted to get rid of it by kissing Callie.

  Maybe she wasn't cut out to be a mother. Or a girly-girl.

  Just a tomboy collision-repair expert. And maybe Callie's destiny was more closely tied to the McGrath family than Jo was willing to admit.