“Hey, my dog!” she shouted, giving chase.

Fiona just as suddenly stopped in the grass and set Tigger down, reached behind a bush, and straightened with a large backpack in her hand.

Cam sighed in relief. “Oh, good,” she said, starting down the beach again as if nothing had happened. “I also have a washer and dryer, if you need to do laundry.”

“What will your husband say about your letting me stay the night?” Fiona asked, rushing to catch up, the pack slung over her shoulders and Tigger back in her arms.

“I don’t have a husband.”

“Oh. You’re divorced, then?”

Camry gave her a sidelong glance. “No. I’ve never been married.”

Fiona stopped to blink at her. “How old are you?”

Camry blinked back. “Almost thirty-two. Why?”

“And you’ve never been married?”

She started walking again. “Last I knew, it wasn’t a crime to be thirty-two and single. How about you? You married?”

“I’m only sixteen!”

Cam smiled. “I don’t believe it’s a crime to be single at sixteen, either. So Fiona, what’s so exciting about staying in a shelter in Portland?”

The girl didn’t answer for several heartbeats, then quietly said, “It’s got to be better than living at home.”

“I see. Pretty bad, is it?”

“My father is impossible. It seems as if every time I turn around, he’s lecturing me about something.”

Cam snorted. “Tell me about it. What is it between fathers and daughters, anyway? It’s like the minute we’re born, a man’s lecturing gene kicks into high gear.”

Fiona stopped again. “Your father lectured you, too?”

“Are you kidding? He’s still lecturing me.”

“At thirty-two?” She hugged Tigger closer. “Sometimes my dad treats me like I don’t have the sense to come in out of the rain. He doesn’t like most of my friends, especially the boys, and he doesn’t like how I dress.”

Camry grabbed the stick from the shepherd’s mouth and threw it down the beach, sending the three dogs scurrying after it. She started walking again. “Oh, yeah? Just wait until you’re two years out of college and still unmarried. Then the lectures change from warnings that ‘all men are wolves,’ to ‘how come you can’t find a man?’ And by the time you’re thirty, they change again to ‘ye can’t give me grandchildren if ye don’t find yourself a husband,’ ” she said, mimicking her father’s highland brogue.

Fiona giggled at the stern expression Camry gave along with the accent and covered her mouth with her hand. “Are you serious?” she asked, her big blue eyes widening. “The lectures are never going to stop?”

“Nope. And you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because we daughters scare the hell out of our daddies. They love us to death, and worry about us so much, that they can’t stand our not having a husband to take care of us.”

“We scare our fathers?” Fiona snorted. “I don’t think anything scares my dad.”

Camry saw the girl hug Tigger on a shiver, and started walking again. “You scare him, because he loves you. That’s my house, right there,” she said, pointing to the small cottage sitting on the bluff.

“Wow, you live right on the beach. Are you rich?”

Camry laughed. “Not exactly. I’m just renting. How about you? Are you rich?”

Fiona snorted. “Money isn’t everything, you know.”

“But it sure helps buy designer jeans, expensive backpacks, and fancy watches, doesn’t it?” she said, nodding at the watch on the girl’s wrist.

“I can’t help it if my parents are rich,” Fiona said defensively.

“No, just like you can’t help that they’re probably so worried right now, they’ve got every law enforcement official in the state looking for you. How long have you been on the run, Fiona?”

“Not long enough,” she snapped, spinning around and heading for the house.

Cam gave a sharp whistle and the three dogs bounded up to her. “Come on, let’s get the sand off you before your loving masters come pick you up,” she told them, running to catch up with Fiona. “Hey, I wouldn’t be a responsible adult if I didn’t at least try to point out that your family is worried sick about you.”

“They probably don’t even realize I’m missing.”

“Trust me, any father who loves you enough to lecture you definitely knows when you’re not sleeping in your bed. I swear I couldn’t sneak out of our house after dark without running into my father at the end of the driveway.” She opened the door and motioned for Fiona to precede her onto the enclosed porch. “Don’t let the dogs in the house. I have to wipe the sand off them first. Just set Tigger down and go warm up. I’ll be right along.”

“I’ll help.”

Camry handed her an old towel. “Okay. The Lab’s name is Max, the golden is Ruffles, and the shepherd is Suki. I’ve got to get them spit-shined before their parents pick them up in an hour.”

“They’re not yours?”

“Good Lord, no. What would I want with this pack of overgrown babies? I just dog-sit them while their owners work to keep them in kibble. You know, sort of like a doggie day care.”

“That’s it? That’s what you do for a living?”

“It pays the bills. And I also bartend at a pub Friday and Saturday nights.”

Fiona gaped at her.

“What?”

“But you said you’re almost thirty-two. How come you don’t have a real career?”

“You mean like Suzy Homemaker or president of the United States? Or maybe a rocket scientist or something?”

The young woman flushed to the roots of her dirty-blond hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you had to be something as brilliant as a rocket scientist. It’s just that . . . well, you seem so smart and everything.” She motioned toward the dogs. “I mean, is this all you’re going to do for the rest of your life, babysit other people’s dogs and serve drinks on weekends?”

Camry grabbed Max and started brushing the sand off his legs. “Rocket science isn’t all you think it’s cracked up to be,” she muttered. “You going to stand out here shivering all afternoon, or help me clean up these mutts?”

Camry spent the next two days trying to persuade Fiona to call her parents, all the while making sure she didn’t sound like a parent for fear the girl would take off on her own again. But all her efforts got her was a roommate who suddenly didn’t seem in any hurry to leave.

She’d been stunned speechless the first night, when Fiona had emerged from the shower wearing the clothes she’d lent her. The girl was breathtakingly beautiful; her wavy, waist-length hair was actually strawberry blonde, her complexion was flawless, and in clothes that fit her far better than they did Cam, her figure would have made a dead man sit up and take notice.

Hell, if she was Fiona’s daddy, she wouldn’t waste her time lecturing the girl, she’d lock her in her room until she was thirty!

She’d had second thoughts about taking Fiona to the Go Back Grill that first night, but since she had only three eggs and some outdated mayonnaise in the fridge, Cam had been forced to take her to work. So she’d sat the girl at the end of the bar to keep an eye on her, then stuffed her full of greasy, fattening food.

By the second night, she’d talked Dave Bean—who owned the Go Back Grill—into letting Fiona bus a few tables to pay for all the greasy, fattening food she’d been wolfing down as if she had a hollow leg.

But it was Sunday afternoon, and Camry was feeling more like a worried parent than a roommate as Fiona got ready for work. That’s why she had Dave on the phone, giving him hell for giving the girl a permanent job!

“You can’t have a sixteen-year-old on staff at a bar, Dave,” Cam growled into her cell phone. “Child Services is going to come after you for hiring a minor.”

“That’s not what you said last night, when you kindly pointed out that her busing tables was perfectly legal,” Dave growled back. “Make up your mind, Cam.”