Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(44)

He took his toothbrush from his mouth and leaned over to kiss her. Olivia wrinkled her nose and turned her face away. "Cameron, ugh. That’s gross. There’s toothpaste in your—"

Her words were cut off by his mouth pressing against hers. Minty breath teased her and she found herself turning toward him and meeting his tongue when he opened up. Surprised to find that second-hand toothpaste wasn’t as disgusting as she’d originally thought, Olivia whimpered and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Damn, Livy," he rasped against her lips. "I’ve got to go to work." But he continued to kiss her, nibbling at her lips and then her throat until she arched back, and he took the peak of her nipple into his mouth. Her fingers plowed through his still-damp hair and she pulled him closer.

All too soon, he groaned and tore himself away. "I have to go," he repeated and kissed her mouth again.

Olivia reached out and wiped some dried toothpaste off the corner of his lip with her fingertips. "Have a good day, darling. I’ll have a hot supper waiting for you when you get home."

He paused, blinking. "Really?"

Olivia rolled her eyes and snorted. "God, no. I’ve never cooked a meal in my life."

Cameron’s shoulders slumped. "And here I thought I might have to keep you around after all."

He tweaked her nose and strolled from the room, grabbing up a pair of shoes on the way. Olivia watched him go and felt a spurt of panic. She’d been joking about the whole cooked-meal thing, trying to lighten the mood and remind herself of their marital status and how it was only temporary. But at his crack about keeping her around, her mood deflated. She didn’t want to stay. So why did the thought of leaving depress her?

*

Cameron grinned as he strolled down the stairs. Boston, with his hands in his pockets, glared back. The scowl only deepened Cameron’s smile. "Ready?"

Without answering, Boston turned on his heel and headed for the door. Chuckling, Cam followed. That was one thing he liked about his cousin. They were like two sides of a mirror. And when Cameron was in one mood, Boston was usually in the other. When Cameron couldn’t seem to settle down or stop cracking jokes, Boston was usually as stiff and tedious as ever.

They complemented each other perfectly and made an unbeatable team.

He paused when he stepped outside and noticed his cousin wasn’t strolling toward his usual drab-looking brown car, but a silver one instead.

"Got rid of the Saab, huh?"

"Mmm-hmm," Boston answered mildly. As they approached it, it automatically unlocked, yet Boston hadn’t even pushed a button. Then it started on its own.

Mildly impressed, Cameron lifted his eyebrows. "So, what is this thing?"

"An Infiniti."

Cameron snorted. "Sounds boring."

Boston refused to rise to the bait. Too used to Cameron trying to get his back up, he merely gave the casual response, "It’s in the top of its class."

"Yeah, well, so, is my Miata," Cameron countered. "But you didn’t buy one of those, now did you?"

Still unperturbed by his criticism, Boston answered, "I prefer luxury sedans."

Cameron shivered and made a repulsed face. "Ugh. Just hearing the word sedan makes me want to curl up and take a nap for, like, a week. Bo-ring."

Boston put the engine into gear. As if on cue, Cam leaned forward and changed the radio station. Loud, booming hip-hop immediately filled the speakers. Boston didn’t even twitch.

At least this ride had a nice sound system. "Couldn’t find anything in red, huh?" Cameron asked, tapping his fingers on his knees to the sound of the thumping rhythm. "Though, granted, it’s better than the Saab."

"I liked the Saab’s color," Boston muttered.

Cameron snorted. "It was butt ugly brown."

Frown growing, Boston said, "It was called Serengeti Sand."

"More like someone puked-up-a-bunch-of sand," Cameron returned.

Boston glanced over at him with a dry look but didn’t respond.

"So, what’s all this do?" Cameron asked, learning forward to play with the screen on the dash.

"Don’t touch it," Boston snapped.

Cameron rolled his eyes. "Are you sure you’re not thirteen years older than me instead of thirteen months? Gah, Bos. Live a little. What’s the use of having toys if you’re not going to play with them?"

"It’s my hands-free Bluetooth phone system," Boston said, scowling when Cameron touched the screen and left a smudged fingerprint. "So, get your grubby paws off. It’s voice activated. No touching needed."

"Cool," Cameron said, lighting up at the prospect. "How’s it work?"

"Music, alternative," Boston said calmly and the radio changed back to the last channel he had playing."

Cameron laughed in delight. "Awesome."

"Call Cam’s cell," Boston said next.

A moment later, ringing came from Cameron pocket. He pulled out his cell to shut it up. "Oh, this is sweet," he announced. "I’m going to have to

get me one of these."

Boston rolled his eyes.

"Hey, let me try one," Cameron said, leaning toward the center console screen. Very slowly and enunciating his words precisely, he added, "Call Florist."