Luke reached in his pants pocket, pulled out the condom, and set it on the table. “Do you know what this is?”
“It’s a condom.”
“And do you know what it’s used for?”
“Preventing unwanted pregnancies and venereal diseases.”
He nodded. “Not bad for a used-to-be scientist. Tell me, have you ever actually seen one out of its packet?” he asked, ripping open the foil.
She leaned back in her chair even farther.
“I only ask because while you were in the bedroom this past hour thinking,I was doing a bit of thinking myself. And you know what I was thinking about?” He slid the condom out of its package, then lifted a brow, waiting for her answer.
“N-no,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to the condom again.
Luke rolled it open, then left it sitting on the table between them as he picked up the unopened bottle of beer, twisted off the cap, and leaned back in his chair. “I was thinking about how you’ve perfected the art of satisfying a man in bed so well, he doesn’t even realize he’s not having intercourse.”
She paled to the roots of her beautiful red hair.
He leaned forward to rest his arms on the table. “I think you should know,” he continued softly, “that this morning when I realized what had actually been going on the last two days, I wanted to wring your pretty little neck. But sometime in the last hour,” he said, motioning toward the bedroom, “everything suddenly made sense.”
He leaned even closer, looking her directly in the eyes. “You’re a virgin,” he said, stating a fact, not asking a question. “You’ve been so afraid that having a child will steal your passion for your work, you’ve never been able to go all the way.”
“I really don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“You are such a passionate woman, Camry, in and out of bed. Everything you do is full speed ahead, no holds barred, one hundred and ten percent.” He leaned back in his chair again. “So to answer your question as to why I don’t simply walk away, it’s because I can’t. For the first time in my adult life, I’m letting my lower brain make my decisions. I’m in lust with you, Camry, and I’m asking you to do what Fiona also asked, and that’s for you not to give up on me. Let’s solve our problems together.”
“I-I don’t do commitment well,” she whispered, her gaze back on the condom.
“Sure you do,” he contradicted, which certainly brought her eyes up to his. “You commit yourself completely, just not long-term. You hit hard and fast, and then you take off before a guy realizes what’s happening . . . or rather, what isn’thappening.”
That got the paleness out of her cheeks. She set her hands on the table and stood up, presumably the better to glare down at him. “If you think I’m going to let you blackmail me into having sex, think again, buster.”
“Blackmail you!” he said on a strangled laugh. “With what? Hell, I’mthe one who should worry about being blackmailed. You and your mother have enough dirt on me not only to ruin my career, but to get me thrown in jail for destroying a multimillion-dollar satellite.”
She collapsed back in her chair. “My mother knows you were eavesdropping on Podly?”
“From the beginning, apparently,” he admitted. “And she also knows that I caused it to crash. Hell, she’sthe blackmailer. She guilted me into coming after you.”
Camry buried her face in her hands and thunked her head down on the table. “What are we going to do?” she muttered. “How am I ever going to face her again?”
Luke nearly jumped up with a shout, he was so happy to hear her speaking in terms of we. He did stand up, though, and went to the fridge, pulled out the last bottle of beer, and waited until she’d finally sat up before he handed it to her.
“I have no idea what we’re going to do,” he said, sitting down again. He slid the gaily wrapped box toward her. “But maybe we should start by opening Fiona’s gift. It’s possible the meddling little brat left us another cryptic clue. I mean, seeing as how she’s so magicalthat she can be five months old and sixteen at the same time.”
Camry spit her mouthful of beer all over the gift, the table, and Luke. “Oh God, don’t tell me youbelieve in the magic!” she cried, her horrified gaze locked on his.
Luke wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. “What in hell are you talking about? I was kidding, Camry. Fiona—if that’s even her real name—obviously found out you had a niece named Fiona Gregor, and decided to mess with your head. She’s a teenager; it’s her job to drive adults crazy. Believe in the magic,” he muttered. “What is it with you MacKeages, anyway? I don’t believe in magic, serendipitous coincidences, mother’s intuition, or miracles. I’m a scientist, and I only believe in what I can back up with cold, hard facts.”
Camry absently toyed with the ribbon on the gift as she watched him out the corner of her eye. “So you don’t believe it’s astronomically impossible that my mother’s satellite crashed near her home, or that you arrived at Gù Brath at about the same time Fiona was mailing her card to my parents? And it doesn’t seem like a strange coincidence to you that you ran into me within minutes of arriving in Go Back Cove? Or that we ended up in bed together your very first night here, or—”
He held his hand up to stop her. “The odds of all those things happening are huge, I’ll admit, but not impossible.”
“Okay. Then how about calculating the odds of Podly’s crashing into Springy Mountain at the exact time of the summer solstice? Which also happens to be the exact moment—right down to the second, I feel compelled to point out—that Fiona Gregor was born.”
He frowned. “That’s pushing things a bit much, I think.”
She slipped the ribbon off the box, carefully unwrapped the gift, then lifted the cardboard lid just enough to look inside. At first she frowned, then her eyes suddenly widened. She looked up at Luke, spun the box around, and pushed it across the table. “Okay, then explain thatto me using cold, hard facts.”
Luke lifted the flap on the box and also frowned, not quite sure what he was looking at. But then his eyes widened just as Camry’s had. He reached in and, as carefully as if he were handling the Holy Grail, he lifted out the slightly charred, fist-sized instrument . . . that actually had the words STARSHIP SPACELINE etched in tiny letters on its side.
“Come on,” Camry said smugly, “explain what that piece of Podly is doing in my kitchen, or how a five-month-old teenagergot her hands on it in the first place, when it should be buried under three feet of snow somewhere on Springy Mountain.”
His hands trembling because he was afraid to drop it, Luke carefully set what appeared to be the satellite’s transmitter down on the table. “Please tell me I’m dreaming.”
“I’m sorry, Luke, I wish I could,” she said just as softly. She reached over and picked up the transmitter, which caused him to flinch. She chuckled. “It’s already survived a rather long fall,” she drawled. “I think it can survive my handling.”
She turned it over to study it, and the tiny instrument suddenly chirped.
Camry threw it down as they both jumped in surprise.
The transmitter rolled off the table, and Luke made a lunge for it at the same time she did. But they fell into each other trying to catch it, and the precious instrument clattered to the floor. It rolled across the linoleum, smacked up against the stove, and softly chirped.
Sprawled on their bellies, they both stared at it, utterly speechless.
The damn thing chirped again.
“It’s still functioning?” Luke whispered. He looked at her. “Do you suppose there’s . . . could more of the satellite have survived, do you think?”
She didn’t respond right away, apparently unable to tear her gaze from the transmitter. She finally looked at him, her eyes shining intensely—quite like they did when she was about to rip off his clothes. “I think we’re going to have to go to Springy Mountain to answer that question.”