The Mighty Quinns: Cameron. Kate Hoffmann

he said. “Washington.”

      “I know where Seattle is,” she said with a smile.

      “Of course you do,” he said. For someone who didn’t want to be noticed, she sure was trying awfully hard to strike up a conversation. Cameron had never been an expert at small talk, but just this once, it might be nice to make an effort. “Do you live around here?”

      She seemed to be understandably suspicious of him. “Around,” she replied.

      “That’s a little vague,” he said. “Around here? Around New Mexico? Around the Southwest?”

      “Albuquerque,” she said.

      “And what are you doing in Vulture Creek?” he asked.

      She smiled. “It’s a long story.”

      Cameron chuckled softly. “Well, that does it, then. I’ve found someone who is worse at small talk than I am. Maybe we should just stop talking altogether before we bore each other to death.”

      She shrugged. “Fine by me. You’re the one who started the conversation.”

      “Actually, you were the first one to speak, as I recall. I was just staring.”

      “Well, I’m done speaking. Starting now.”

      Millie appeared a few minutes later with Cameron’s lunch. She set the plate in front of him, then nodded toward his empty mug. “Another beer?”

      “Sure,” Cameron said as he dug into his meal.

      Millie turned to the woman sitting next to him. “What can I get for you, Sofie? Breakfast or lunch?”

      “The meat loaf is good,” Cameron said between bites. Sofie. Was that short for Sofia? The name suited her, he thought to himself. Sofia, the dark, exotic beauty with the lush mouth and the sparkling eyes.

      “I’ll have a grilled-cheese and a cup of soup,” Sofie said.

      “Can I get you anything else?” Millie asked Cameron.

      “A job. Do you know of anyone who’s looking to hire? I need work. And a place to stay.”

      She nodded toward the group sitting at the tables near the front of the diner. “You could talk to the professor over there,” she said. “He has a dinosaur dig out in the desert. They’re always looking for help.”

      Cameron gasped. “Really. A dig?” He shook his head in disbelief. Was this why his grand father had sent him to Vulture Creek? Did he know about the dig?

      “They don’t pay,” Sofie said. “Other than meals. They’re looking for volunteers.”

      “Aren’t you looking for someone, Sofie?” Millie asked.

      “No,” Sofie said.

      “Sure you are. You mentioned it yesterday. I distinctly remember you saying you didn’t have enough eyes or ears to cover all the ground you needed to. I do believe those were your words.”

      “What kind of work do you do?” Cameron asked.

      “She’s a private investigator,” Millie said. “Working on a big case.” The waitress wandered back to the kitchen, leaving Sofie and Cameron with another uncomfortable silence.

      Cameron sighed softly. Though the dinosaur dig was intriguing, he’d have to find a way to make some real money. And if Sofie, the private investigator, had a job, then he ought to explore that option. Who knew if there would even be other opportunities in Vulture Creek?

      “So do you or don’t you have a job you’re looking to fill?”

      Millie set a cup of soup in front of Sofie. “Maybe you ought to interview him. He looks like a clever young man.” She winked at Cameron. “Careful, now. If you have any secrets, she’ll find a way to get them out of you.”

      Cameron stifled a smile. Actually, that sounded like a lot of fun. Though he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, he was enjoying the back-and-forth with Sofie. Beneath that cool, composed exterior, Cameron suspected there was a fiery, passionate woman. He was curious to catch a glimpse of that side of her.

      “Why are you here?” Sofie asked.

      Cameron wiped his hands with his napkin and swallowed the mouthful of meat loaf. “I’m here because my grandfather sent me here. I’m supposed to take the next six weeks to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

      “Why would you need to do that?”

      “My grandfather owns the family business. I work there. He needs to make some decisions about the future of that business. He wants us all to be sure of where we want to be.”

      “All?”

      “Me and my three brothers. We all work for the company.”

      “What do you do? I mean, for a job?” she replied.

      “I design sailing yachts,” he said.

      Sofie laughed and nodded to Millie. “Well, we have a lot of sailing yachts here in the desert,” she said. “I really don’t think I have—”

      “Sofie,” Cameron said.

      She stopped talking and watched him warily. “Yes?”

      “I’m a smart guy. I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever you send my way. Why don’t you give me a chance? If it doesn’t work out, you can fire me.”

      “What’s your name?” she finally asked.

      He held out his hand. “Cameron Quinn. Most people call me Cam.”

      Reluctantly, she shook his hand. “Sofia Reyes,” she said softly. “Most people call me Sofie.”

      The moment he touched her, the sensation of her skin against his sent a flood of warmth racing through his veins. He didn’t want to let her hand go, but forced himself. “Now that we’ve met, you have to let me buy you lunch,” Cameron said. “You can tell me all about the virtues of Vulture Creek.”

      “That would be a very short lunch. More like a snack.”

      “Go ahead,” Millie urged. “Let the man buy you lunch.”

      He felt a small measure of satisfaction when she nodded in agreement. Though he hadn’t held out much hope of finding anything of interest in Vulture Creek when he stepped off the bus, his prospects were getting better with every minute that passed. Sofie Reyes. Even her name was sexy.

      SOFIE SIGHED SOFTLY as she took her first bite of Millie’s banana-cream pie. She’d been hanging around Vulture Creek for the past few weeks, and a slice of Millie’s homemade pie had become a daily ritual for her.

      “I think pie is just about the perfect food,” Sofie said, emphasizing her statement with her fork. “You can eat it for breakfast, lunch or dinner. And it’s good for a snack, too.”

      “I think you might be right,” Cameron replied, digging into the apple pie he’d ordered after his own meal.

      The conversation was easy between them, which Sofie found odd. She usually wasn’t very comfortable around charming men, especially men she didn’t know. Her instincts usually tended to have her second-guessing everything that was said, looking for ulterior motives and hidden meanings. It was the side effects of working as a private investigator, she knew. Everyone she met was guilty of something.

      But this man, this Cameron Quinn, should have set off all her alarms. His reasons for being in Vulture Creek were cloudy at best. His wardrobe was more suited to a man who drove an expensive European sports car than a guy who took the Greyhound. And yet she couldn’t help but be attracted.

      In truth, she did need help. It had become almost impossible to cover all her bases with the case she was working, especially when she had to provide round-the-clock surveillance. And as a woman, she was