bit stiff yet, but if this group can't loosen her up, nothing can. Seth's very attracted."
"So I noticed." Grace turned her head toward Anna. "I guess we'd better find out more about her."
"My thoughts exactly." She went back to fetch the wine.
THE Quinn BROTHERS were impressive examples of the species individually. As a group, Dru decided, they were staggering. They might not have shared blood, but they were so obviously fraternal—tall, lanky, handsome and most of all male.
The quartet around the huge steaming pot simply exuded manhood like other men might a distinctive aftershave. She didn't doubt for a moment that they knew it.
They were what they were, she thought, and were pretty damned pleased about it.
As a woman she found that sort of innate self-satisfaction attractive. She respected confidence and a good, healthy ego. When she wandered around to the brick pit where they steamed the crabs to deliver, at Anna's request, a foursome of cold beer, she caught the end of a conversation.
"Asshole thinks he's Horatio fucking Hornblower." From Cam.
"More like Captain fucking Queed." Muttered by Ethan.
"He can be anybody he wants, as long as his money's green."
Delivered with a shrug by Phillip. "We've built boats for assholes before, and will again."
"One fuckhead's the same as—" Seth broke off when he spotted Dru.
"Gentlemen." She never batted an eyelash. "Cold beer for hot work."
"Thanks." Phillip took them from her. "Heard you've already cooled off once today."
"Unexpectedly." Relieved of the bottles, she lifted her wineglass to her lips, sipped. "But I prefer this method to the Super Soaker 5000." Ignoring Seth, she looked at Ethan. "Did you catch them?" she asked, gesturing to the pot.
"Deke and I, yeah." He grinned when Seth cleared his throat. "We took him along for ballast," he told Dru. "Got blisters on his city hands."
"Couple days in the boatyard might toughen him up," Cam speculated. "Always was puny though."
"You're just trying to insult me so I'll come in and do the hot fifty-fifty work." Seth tipped back his beer. "Keep dreaming."
"Puny," Phillip said, "but smart. Always was smart."
"I wonder if I could come in sometime, take a look around at your work."
Cam tilted his head toward Dru. "Like boats, do you?"
"Yes, I do."
"Why don't we go for a sail," Seth asked her.
She spared him a glance that was on the edge of withering. "Keep dreaming," she suggested and strolled away.
"Classy," was Phillip's opinion.
.•
"She's a nice girl," Ethan said as he checked the pot.
"Hot," Cam commented. "Very, very hot."
"You want to cool off, I'll be happy to stick the Super Soaker 5000 up your ass," Seth told him.
"Got a bead on her?" Cam shook his head as if in pity. "She looks out of your league to me, kid."
"Yeah." Seth gulped more beer. "I'm a big fan of interleague play."
Phillip watched Seth wander off, then chuckled. "Our boy's going to be spending a hell of a lot of money on flowers for the next little while."
"That particular bloom's got some long stems on her," Cam remarked.
"Got careful eyes." Ethan gave the traditional Quinn shoulder jerk when Cam frowned at him. "Watches everything, including Seth, but it's all one step back, you know. Not because she's shy—the girl isn't shy. She's careful."
"She comes from big money and politics." Phillip considered his beer. "Bound to make you careful."
"Saint Chris is a funny place for her to end up, isn't it?" To Cam's mind, family forged you—the family you were born to or the family you made. He wondered how Dru's had forged her.
SHE'D INTENDED to stay no more than an hour. A polite hour while her clothes dried. But somehow she was drawn into a conversation with Emily about New York. And one with Anna about gardening. Then there were the mutual acquaintances with Sybill and Phillip from D.C.
The food was wonderful. When she complimented the potato salad, Grace offered her the recipe. Dru wasn't quite sure how to announce that she