Causing Havoc (4 page)

"Then you should be glad Roger butted in, huh?"

' Maybe." She closed her eyes again. "But Cam, he was the most gorgeous hunk of man I've ever

seen. And it wasn't just his looks."

"Keep talking."

"I don't know. There was just something about him. He was so macho, without throwing it around, ya

know? And ohmigod, he smel ed so good."

Dean puzzled over that. He smel ed good?

"I just... I wanted to eat him up."

Shit. Much more talk like that and he'd have a boner. Maybe now was a good time to announce

himself. He started to do just that, when Cam spoke again.

"Tel me you got his number."

Eve groaned. "I was hoping he'd ask for mine, but he didn't, and even though I'm bal sy, and even

though he was the hunkiest hunk I've ever seen, I'm kind of glad I won't ever run into him again."

"Why? You sound total y smitten."

"I was total y in
lust
. I flirted. I kissed him." She bit her lip. "I made it clear that I was interested. And that's just it. I behaved like a ... a shameless hoochie." Eve covered her face again. "That's a tough act to back away from."

Seeing his intro, Dean smiled and asked, "Was it an act?"

The resulting female screeches could have peeled paint off the house. Both women scrambled fast

to their feet. Cam pul ed on a terry cover-up.

Eve didn't have a cover-up, thank God.

She stared at him, her eyes an even more startling blue beneath the hot afternoon sun. Her cheeks

flushed; her breasts heaved.

Yeah, he could eat her up, too. Just not yet. But soon.

Dean turned to his sister. "Camil e, right?"

"Who are you?"

Eve gasped. "He's the guy...." She floundered, gulped, and went al breathless. "The guy from last night. The one I was just tel ing you about."

Immediately Cam stepped in front of her friend. "What are you doing here? You're on private

property." She'd gone from sweet to Amazonian in a heartbeat. Even with the big-framed sunglasses

concealing a good portion of her face, Dean could see her frown warning him away. "How did you

know where to find her?"

So she felt protective of Eve? Nice, not that Eve needed her protection. But he liked it that his sister

had a backbone.

"Actual y I was looking for you, not her." And to Eve, Dean said, "You're just a very nice bonus."

Both women stared at him, mute.

Sighing, Dean reached into his pocket and pul ed out the crumpled letter. "You wrote me. Back some

months ago, I know, but I was traveling and it took a while for my mail to catch up to me."

Cam pushed her glasses to the top of her head. "I wrote you?"

Rather than try to explain, he stepped forward and extended her the letter. She stood about five-

eight. Tal , like him, though he stil topped her by more than half a foot.

Shaking, Cam accepted the wrinkled pieces of paper. She held them in both hands and stared at

them, eyes blinking, lips caught in her teeth. When she looked up at Dean, her eyes were liquid with

tears and that twice cursed hope.

Shit, shit, shit. Dean prepared himself. Or at least he thought he did. But how the hel did a man

prepare for a long-lost sister?

"Dean?" Her voice went al high and sil y. "It's . . . it's real y you?"

He didn't get a chance to reply. The next thing he knew, she had him clutched in a ferocious,

unbreakable bear hug. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had plastered herself to him in a

platonic way. Even before his mother died, she hadn't been a demonstrative woman. A pat on the

head, a tickle beneath his chin . . . but not this ful -body contact warm with emotion.

Their housekeepers had been kind, but not forward enough to show so much affection. He'd had a

few caring schoolteachers, known women while working construction, met his buddies' wives, his

uncle's one-nighters. But. .. none of" them had treated him like a treasure, like something more than a friend.

None of them had held him like a lifeline.

Even through his numbness, Dean made note of so many things. The chirping of birds. A gentle

breeze. Eve's acute attention and Cam's softness, the pleasure of her scent. He closed his eyes and

inhaled.

His emotions rioted, but in a whol y unfamiliar way. Cam wasn't a frail girl, but her strength was puny

in comparison to his. Her embrace felt... good.

Real y fucking good.

Deliberately Dean kept his arms at his sides and struggled to block the sensations of comfort. As

one of the most celebrated mixed martial-arts fighters in the world, he sure as hel didn't need

comfort. Not like this.

Not from her.

Looking for a quick distraction, he turned his gaze on Eve.

Mirrored sunglasses shielded his expression from her, but Eve didn't have the same advantage. He

saw her shock, her embarrassment, and something more. Red faced and wide eyed, she stared at

him.

Her lips parted, her breathing came fast. Taking his time, Dean looked her over. Compared to Cam,

Eve was downright petite, at least in height. But she had curves galore, and in al the right places.

She'd spoken as if her brazen-ness of the night before might have been an anomaly. She wasn't a

shy woman, but she'd reacted to him differently.

He wouldn't let her forget the chemistry between them. He wouldn't let her retrench. One way or

another, he'd have her—on his terms.

Final y Cam pushed back from him, but only a little, enough to look at his face and smile as if the

world had just solved al its problems.

Sniffling and laughing at the same time, she attempted to apologize. "I'm so sorry, Dean. I don't

mean to cry al over you." She absently smoothed her hands over his chest, sort of feeling him,

absorbing him. "In my mind, I rehearsed this moment a thousand times. I prayed that my letter would

find you and that you'd come home, but I just didn't. .." Her voice broke and she had to clear her

throat. Twice. "Ohmigod,
it's really you.
' And she started laughing again.

Feeling like a dope, Dean said, "Yeah," because he had no idea what else to say. He'd rather fight three undefeated maniacs,
for free
, than deal with this sentimental crap.

Cam clasped his shoulders. "Eve's right. You're so very handsome. And big. I thought Jacki was tal ,

but... look at you."

Jacki, his youngest sister. Was she tal er than Cam? When would he see her?

Inside Dean's instincts rioted. Outside he felt rigid enough to break. He locked his teeth and let Cam

chatter.

She went on tiptoe to run a hand through his hair. "We have the same color hair." She sounded

delighted by that fact. "Eve, did you see?"

Stil mute, Eve nodded.

"Oh, Dean, it is so good to have you here." And Cam squeezed him again.

Dean didn't know what to think. Cam was so damned familiar with him, touching and hugging as if

she knew him or something. As if they'd actual y grown up together. As if he were the typical big

brother, instead of an absent stranger.

"Where are my manners?" she asked no one in particular in a voice stil high and a little too excited.

"Let's go inside and I'l get us something to drink. There's so much catching up to do." She hooked her arm through his and started dragging him toward the house. "Did you have to travel far to get here?

Where were you when you got the letter? Where do you live?"

So many questions at once. Dean looked over his shoulder at Eve. She appeared planted to the

spot, but with his attention on her, she suddenly unglued her feet and darted past them, mumbling, "I'l just go inside and dress."

As she went past in that perky little half-run, he watched with interest. He was an ass man through

and through, and though Eve was slender, she had a generously rounded behind that balanced a nice

C-cup up front. Before he left Harmony, he'd know that kil er body intimately. That reality helped to

soften the others as he faced his past.

"I'm sorry," Cam said again. "I'm attacking you with questions. You must think I'm nuts."

He didn't know her wel enough to pass judgment on her mental state. "It's okay."

"One at a time, I promise. So ... where were you before coming here?"

Dean shook off his reserve. If Cam could be so at ease, then so could he. "When I got your letter I

was in Vegas. Before that, I'd been out of the country."

"Where?" she demanded playful y. "Someplace exotic?"

"Europe mostly."

She pretended a half-swoon. "
Europe.
I'm
so
jealous."

"I travel a lot. It's not a big deal."

"It is to me. I've never even been out of Kentucky."

"Never?" Eve had gone in so fast, she left the sliding doors open, and Cam urged him into a cool breakfast and family room combination that opened into the kitchen. He glanced around,

reacquainting himself with his childhood home. "You're kidding, right?"

He'd watched morning cartoons in this room, stretched out on the sofa in his pajamas. He'd played

with two-year-old Cam on the carpeted floor. Things were different— pieces of the furniture, the

window treatments, even the wal colors. But it was also the same.

"Nope. After school I attended a local col ege for awhile, but..." She rushed past that topic with nervous haste, as if embarrassed that she hadn't gotten a degree. "What would you like to drink?

Soda, tea, coffee?"

Dean eyed her. "Got a beer?"

She blanched. "Sorry, no." After a quick glimpse at the clock on the wal , her fingers tangled in a fretful way.

Did she consider two in the afternoon too early to drink? "Is there a problem, Cam?"

"No, it's just..." Her shoulders lifted. "I'm sorry, but Aunt Lorna doesn't believe in drinking. She forbids alcohol in the house."

Grover had told him a lot about Lorna, including what a pious, judgmental bitch she could be.

Because of her, he didn't know his sisters. Lorna had forbidden any contact.

Was she due home soon? Is that why Cam checked the clock?

Unwil ing to make an issue of it so soon, Dean shrugged. He trailed her into the kitchen area.

"Unsweetened ice tea then, if you have it."

"Of course." Cam pul ed out a chair like a gal ant knight. "Please, sit down. Make yourself comfortable. Are you hungry? I could make you a sandwich."

"No, thanks."

"Soup? We have some left over from yesterday. Or I could make you—"

He cut her off, saying, "I'm not hungry." Good God, Cam could talk a mile a minute. He supposed

some of that was excitement.

At seeing him.

Fuck.

"Then how about a cookie? Homemade. I baked some fresh this morning. Oatmeal and raisin."

Protective, with a Martha Stewart inclination? His sister was an interesting paradox. "I don't eat

sweets very often."

He might have said he had two heads, with the way she reacted to that. "You don't? Why ever not?"

"I have to stay in shape."

With a half laugh, she scoffed at him. "You're in shape, al right." Plopping her hat and sunglasses on the counter, she strode to the refrigerator to get his drink. '"Just look at you. You're al bulging

muscle."

Dean didn't want her thinking him a fanatic, so he explained. "I'm a fighter, Cam. My diet is an

important part of my lifestyle."

Drawing to a halt, she turned to gape at him. "A
fighter?
"

Unsure if her look meant revulsion or intrigue, he said nothing.

"No cookies, but beer is okay?" Suspicion brought her brows down and she propped her hands on

her hips. "How's that work?"

He realized she was teasing, and he smiled with her. "Hey, I have to draw the line somewhere. No

way am I going to give up
everything,
and I'd rather watch the sweets. But I limit my drinking to the times in between fights. When I'm training, I cut out the alcohol, too."

"You must have amazing wil power. I try, but I'm a sugar junkie."

It didn't show. Cam had a trim, athletic figure. He supposed that was part of their gene pool. He

remembered his mother as a slender woman and his father as leanly muscular.

As Cam fil ed the glass with ice and tea, she kept glancing at him. "You're a professional fighter?

Like a boxer, you mean?"

"Not exactly a boxer." Rather than continue to hide, Dean removed the mirrored sunglasses and laid them on the table. When he looked at Cam this time, she saw his eyes—and immediately jumped

subjects. Again.

"Dean! We have the same eyes, too. Isn't that amazing?"

He couldn't help but grin. Cam amused him with her overload of enthusiasm. "Are you always this

upbeat?"

Eve strol ed back in. "Yeah, she is. Sickening, isn't it?"

Swiveling in his seat, Dean looked at her. She avoided meeting his gaze, but he didn't mind. They

both knew how she felt, just as they both knew what would come of it.

She'd pul ed her wet hair into a ponytail, emphasizing high cheekbones and a stubborn chin. Short

jean shorts showed off her ass almost as good as the bikini bottoms had. A thin tank top advertised

her lack of a bra. Her bare legs were beautiful.

While checking out every inch of Eve, Dean said, "Cam and I might share coloring, but our

dispositions are polar opposites."

Cam laughed. "Meaning you're a bear? I don't believe it. Look at how you've put up with me already."

"I believe it." Eve went on tiptoe to reach a glass, then helped herself to the tea. "His fighting name is Havoc." She tipped the glass at him in a salute. "That oughta tel ya something, right?"

Now this was familiar. Sparring with an attractive lady, cultivating the sexual tension. Much, much