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Cyn let Brock drag her into a quiet corner of the kitchen.
“What was all that about?”
Cyn gaped at him, astonished. “It was just — I had no idea — What do you mean? Are you talking about the hand-kissing thing? It was a mild flirtation. Everybody does it. It’s like kissing on the cheek. Or air kissing. It doesn’t mean anything. My husband — ”
Brock ran his hands through his hair. He took Cyn’s hands in his and gazed into her eyes.
“And so worlds collide,” he said softly. “I don’t give one crumb in the bread bowl for how your late, unlamented husband felt about such things, or your friends, or anybody else in your world. I intend — ” he drew a finger across her lips, soft as down, and smiled “ — to seduce you into my world. Where such things matter a great deal. As much as you matter to me. That, I assure you, is a very great deal, indeed.”
“But Brock, I have to — we have to keep up this charade of the husband-hunting for the kids. You wanttokeepthemtogether,don’tyou?Theyhaveto be working together. Van has no clue yet how much Mary matters to him.”
“Yes, my dear, I do want to make sure we keep them together until they can do it for themselves.” He smiled, this time with a wry quirk. “But I want you to not enjoy it quite so much.”
“Good heavens, Brock, isn’t that a little caveman for this day and age, and at our age?”
“Yes, I believe it is.”
A lump formed in her abdomen. Left her a little breathless too. Her husband had never cared much about anything she did.
The single word that came to mind about Brock was commitment, and she found the length and breadth of the concept a little puzzling, and more than a little scary.
“I wish,” Brock said, “I hadn’t started this conversation with fury over the foolish posturing of our friend the singer out there. And I would prefer if I weren’t doing it in my current garb.” He plucked unhappily at his no-longer-white whites. “I was jealous. Ioverreacted.ButI’llprobablydoitagain.IfIpromise to try not to, will you forgive me?”
Cyn stroked his cheek.
“Let me explain why I may not always succeed,” Brock said. “Come, my love, come with me. I wish to show you something.” Brock led her out of the kitchen and along the shadowed edges of the poolside party patio, past where Mary was finishing the auction.
“Sold for fifty thousand dollars,” Mary cried as she banged her hammer.
Cyn spared a moment to be thrilled. That would be a big boost for Joe Weebler’s clinic. And her scheme with the kids was working perfectly. They were together, and Mary was head over heels in love. Van might find two bits of brain to rub together one of these days and realize how much in love he was too.
Thekidshadpavedherwaytothegreatestcaterer in the city too. He came with even better benefits. She cast an adoring glance at Brock. She would never have believed she’d like being told a man wanted her all for his Neolithic self.
“Where are we going?” She didn’t actually care where. She liked being with him, wherever they were.
“Wait a moment.” Brock drew her back while Mary wheeled the Puppy Palace into the cabana.
“What, you’re taking me to visit the dogs?”
“Yes, I am.”
Lancelot was already on guard in the doorway again.
“What do you see?” Brock asked.
“Lancelot, but I have a feeling that’s not what you’re getting at.”
“What I see,” Brock said, “is Lancelot ready to do or die. Vertically challenged as he is, he will not let anyone hurt his family.”
“You’re telling me you are that protective too.”
“Yes, my love.”
The back of Cyn’s neck tingled. “I — see.”
The tingling spread. Damn. She, or more to the point they, couldn’t do much about it here and now.
She grabbed for the nearest way to divert her wayward thoughts. “The puppies.” Babies of the two-legged variety, or the four-, were always irresistible, a sure-fire way to stop thinking about whatever other thing you didn’t want to think about. “I want to play with the puppies. Do you think Lancelot will relax his guard enough to let us?”
