Wild for You (Crave Book 2)

by C. C. Wood

  The patrons were just as eclectic as the music, ranging from a group of elderly men playing cards at a table in the corner to boisterous young cowboys drinking beer at the bar. But even with the group of cowboys, it was a quiet night. The customers were here more to socialize and eat than get drunk.

  However, I was here to have a few and dull the ache that had settled in my chest after lunch when Cam had gone to work and I was left alone.

  I'd selected a stool at the end of the bar that was mostly shrouded in shadow. My left shoulder was against a wall and the stools next to me were taken by two women openly on the prowl, which seemed strange to me since it was a Sunday night. Was it weird to pick up a guy on what was supposed to be a holy day? Yes, these were the bizarre questions I often asked myself in my head. Or accidentally blurted aloud when I really didn't mean to.

  However, I hadn't been in town long, so what did I know about the mating habits of the locals.

  Their short skirts, sultry make-up, and artfully coiffed hair garnered a lot of male attention, which meant that I was all but ignored by the men who'd downed enough beer or gathered enough courage to come over to them.

  And I liked it that way. At least for tonight.

  I told myself I was nursing a broken heart but that would be a lie. More like drowning the pain caused by breaking someone else's heart.

  Which was why I hadn't wanted to answer Colette when she asked me what happened with Brian. I knew that she would be even more disappointed in me when she found out what I'd done.

  If I'd known that Brian was so serious about me, I would have ended our relationship months ago. But I had been traveling a lot for work and only saw him a few times a month. We texted and talked on the phone regularly, but I'd considered him more of a friend with benefits than a boyfriend.

  He hadn't shared my viewpoint.

  In his mind, I was the one. The woman he wanted to spend his life with and I'd been so oblivious that I'd had no clue.

  Last month, I found out I'd gotten a promotion. He insisted we go out to celebrate somewhere special. He seemed excited that this promotion also meant that I wouldn't have to travel for work as much, but it hadn't clicked that he thought I'd be spending more time with him. That he wanted to take our relationship to the next level.

  So, we'd both dressed up and gone to one of the nicest restaurants in Dallas. Then we'd taken a stroll, hand-in-hand. And, honestly, the romance of it made me uncomfortable. Because Brian was my friend with bennies, not my boyfriend.

  Then, he'd stopped in a quiet spot and dropped to one knee in front of me. At first, I thought he'd tripped or needed to tie his shoe. Until he lifted a huge diamond solitaire toward me.

  I stood there, frozen, as he said, "Sierra Watkins, I love you. Will you be my wife?"

  To be absolutely honest, my first thought was What the hell?

  Unfortunately, my first thoughts often end up being the things I say as soon as I open my mouth. Which is exactly what happened.

  "What the hell?" I whispered.

  Immediately, I bit my lip and hoped Brian hadn't heard me, but he absolutely had.

  He'd blinked and his wide smile and the twinkle in his eye had vanished. He'd released my hand and gotten to his feet. Even now, weeks later, I could still see his wounded expression.

  "That was not the reaction I was expecting," he'd murmured.

  It was my turn to blink. I'd never even told him I loved him. We hadn't discussed marriage or the future at any time unless it was when the next break in my travel schedule would be. How could he think I'd say yes when I hadn't even known he wanted to spend his life with me? Or how many kids he wanted? Or if he wanted to stay in the city when he got married or move to the suburbs? There were so many things we never talked about that I would need to know before I would even consider marrying a man.

  I hated that I put that look on his face because I didn't want to hurt him. I might not love him the way I should love the man I married, but I did care about him. I wanted good things for him and his life. I just didn't want the same thing he did.

  "I'm sorry." My voice was gentle and soft because I hated that we were both in this position. "I shouldn't have said that. I was just...shocked."

  His head lifted and I could practically see the hope spark in his eyes, which made what I had to say next suck even more. But I had to say it because he deserved my honesty.

  "I care about you, Brian. I consider you a good friend, but I don't love you. Not the way a woman should love you when she accepts your marriage proposal."

  He recoiled from me. There was no other way to describe it. "Good friend? You sleep at my house, in my bed, or I'm in yours, every time you're in town for more than a day. We talk on a daily basis. You told me you love me."

  I frowned. "I've never said that. I wouldn't say that to you if I didn't feel it." Shit. Wrong choice of words yet again. "What I mean is that I love you the way I love my friends and if I've ever told you that, then that was my meaning." I knew I hadn't said the words but that wasn't an argument I needed to start right now. "But you deserve a woman who loves you with her whole heart and soul. Who thinks of you and is willing to put you first. And I'm not the woman who will do that for you."

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. This conversation was not going the way I wanted it to go. I couldn't find the right words. The words that would explain how I felt without hurting him more. Saying the wrong thing at the wrong time was a talent of mine, one I had done nothing to cultivate but still excelled at all the same.

  Brian shook his head as though he couldn't believe I didn't feel the way he did. "I can't believe this."

  I reached out to touch his arm, but he stepped back as though he feared I had the plague. "I really am sorry that I hurt you this way. If I'd realized how you were feeling, I would have talked to you before now. I don't want to cause you pain."

  He scoffed. "Then why did you lead me to believe you were serious about me?"

  In my mind, I hadn't. Despite his insistence, I hadn't told him I loved him. I hadn't mentioned marriage, or plans for our relationship in the future. I didn't even have a toothbrush at his house!

  However, I'd spent enough years dealing with my parents that I knew it was impossible to manage his expectations after he'd already made up his mind. All I could do now was be honest and sincere, apologize for hurting him, and hope that he would understand.

  "I'm sorry if I did because that was never my intention." That was all I could say.

  There was nothing else to discuss after that. Needless to say, the car ride to my apartment was awkward because he'd picked me up. He drove in silence, both hands clenching the wheel as if it were his lifeline. He didn't speed or drive recklessly, but I still couldn't relax.

  When he pulled up to my building, I turned toward him. "I want you to have a good life, Brian. I sincerely hope you find the woman you deserve as a wife, because you are a good man with a good heart."

  His jaw ticked as he faced me. " What I definitely don't deserve is the kind of woman who gets off on breaking someone's heart."

  Though it remained unspoken I heard the like you he implied with that statement. But I didn't reply because I knew the futility of trying to change his perspective when he was hurt and humiliated.

  "Good-bye, Brian."

  And that was the last time I'd seen or spoken to him.

  "Oh, my God. Ben Murphy is here. He must be looking to get laid."

  I blinked as the woman next to me spoke and realized I'd been sitting at the bar, lost in thought, for a long while. Most of the ice in my drink had melted. I shoved it back and lifted a hand toward the bartender. She saw my signal and set about making me another vodka and club soda. She even remembered to add three lime wedges as I'd asked for the first time I'd ordered. Excellent attention to detail. She was definitely getting a good tip from me tonight.

  "Yeah, right," the other woman said.

  If they hadn't been sitting so close to me, I never would have overheard the conversati
on, but in that corner of the bar, their words were clear even though they were soft.

  "I heard he hooked up with Patricia Casper last week," the blonde argued as she tossed her long hair and nearly hit me in the face with it. Ugh. Rude much, Blondie?

  "What? I hadn't heard that. Who told you?"

  Blondie leaned toward her friend. "Patricia herself."

  Her friend rolled her eyes. "Seriously? She was probably lying. When was the last time Ben had a one-night stand with a local girl?"

  Blondie shrugged. "Pretty sure most of them wouldn't say a word because they want him to come back for more. A lot of the girls around here would cut a bitch to marry Ben Murphy."

  "Sex isn't marriage, Gina," the friend said.

  So that was Blondie's name. I made a mental note of it because I always tried to keep track of the catty bitches I ran across. Mostly so I could avoid them in the future.

  My drink arrived and I slid a twenty across the bar to the bartender. "Keep the change." She smiled at me and moved on as Ben Murphy approached the bar on the other end, sitting in a stool directly across from the two gossips next to me.

  At least he wouldn't be able to hear what they were saying about him as they eyed him like a slab of rare prime rib.

  I tried to tune them out as they continued their speculation about who Ben Murphy was or wasn't sleeping with, who he might be dating, and how well he filled out a pair of Levi's. While I didn't give a damn about the first two topics, I had to agree with the last. The man had a fantastic ass.

  Okay, so I lied to myself. I did care about the first two topics because I was just as thirsty for Ben Murphy as these women, which made me even more determined to ignore them. Yeah, I'm perverse like that. I hated that I had that in common with them, but, well, that was the power of that man and his Levi's.

  Methodically, I took each one of the three lime wedges and squeezed them into my drink before dropping them into the glass. I stirred it a few times and lifted it to my lips. As I took a sip, I glanced up and my eyes met Ben's.

  He was leaning on the bar, a bottle of beer held loosely in one hand. In the dim light, I couldn't read his expression but somehow I knew he was studying me. As it had during lunch earlier, my skin prickled as if his stare had substance, an actual touch against my face and neck.

  "He's looking at us," Blondie-slash-Gina hissed to her friend.

  Rolling my eyes, I sipped my drink again. Ben smirked and rose from his barstool, making his way around the bar. Somehow, he managed to weave his way through the crowd without bumping into anyone or spilling his beer. It was almost hypnotic to watch him shift and move with the bodies surrounding him.

  "Oh, my God, he's coming over here," the friend whispered.

  "Don't look too desperate," Gina retorted.

  I had to choke back a laugh at that. Then, I sobered. It was actually kind of sad. These women were looking for something from the men they hooked up with, which was going to disappoint them every time. What they truly needed was inside them. I briefly wondered who or what had convinced them that their sole chance at happiness could be found with a man.

  I was distracted from my thoughts as Ben rounded the bar and I got the full effect of his AC/DC tee and faded jeans. It had only been a few hours since I'd last seen him, but the picture he created was still like a punch in the gut.

  As he drew closer, I could see his hazel eyes locked on me, keen and bright. The intensity of his gaze was unnerving, as if he knew I was sitting here, throwing myself a pity party for one. I didn't smile at him but I did cock my head, trying my best to give him plenty of attitude without using words.

  He grinned at me and I think Blondie moaned. They both straightened up a little, like two hunting dogs who'd locked onto the scent of prey.

  Ben walked around them and stopped beside me. "Hey, there, Friend of Cam."

  "Hey, there back, Other Friend of Cam."

  His grin widened as though he liked my sass. Shit, he was handsome in any light, but up close and wearing an amused smile, he was in a whole other league.

  "What brings you to The Boot tonight?"

  I lifted my drink to my mouth, taking a hefty swallow before I answered because I was suddenly thirsty. Very, very thirsty.

  "Vodka," I answered. "Cam doesn't keep any in the house."

  That was a dirty lie. Cam kept plenty of liquor in the house but the real reason I'd left is because I couldn't stand to be penned up, alone and drinking. It was too pathetic. Especially since Brian hadn't been the one to break my heart but the other way around.

  Oh, and the fact that I didn't want to get drunk and blurt out the whole sordid story to Cam when she got home from work.

  I absently wondered if men felt the same guilt I did when they broke a woman's heart. Other than J.J., I didn't have a lot of male acquaintances.

  "Ever broken someone's heart, Ben?" I asked, taking another sip of my drink.

  He shrugged. "When I was younger, yeah."

  "Did you feel guilty afterward?"

  His gaze sharpened as he looked down at me. "For a little while. Hurting someone is never easy, even if you don't mean to."

  I nodded. "I agree. I just wondered if men feel the same way about that sort of thing as women do."

  "Well, we're all human, so I would think that they do." He leaned a little closer. "What about you? Broken a lot of hearts?"

  Oh, wow. Yeah, I'd invited that question. Nothing left to do but answer it. "Yeah, a couple of times. Apparently, I get off on it." I crunched on a piece of ice to relieve the tension on my jaw.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the two women staring at us with a mixture of shock and annoyance. Probably because I was dressed in black leggings, a loose Dr. Who t-shirt, and a beanie. My black glasses sat on my nose and, other than mascara, I wasn't wearing any make-up. Like I said, I didn't come here for attention.

  Ben shifted, putting himself between me and Blondie. I scooted the stool a few inches and found my back against the wall and my inner thigh against Ben's hip. Whoa. It'd been a month since I'd had sex and my body was used to a fairly regular amount. I hadn't even been getting myself off since that night with Brian, completely uninterested in an orgasm of any kind.

  "I don't know you very well, but from what I've heard from Cam, I find that very hard to believe."

  Wait, what were we talking about? That's right, my supposed delight in crushing men's hearts beneath the heel of my Converse.

  "I don't want to believe it either," I muttered. "But I've heard it more than once, from more than one guy."

  I glanced down at my vodka and pressed my lips together. Why was I saying all this? Okay, so, yes, verbal diarrhea was my forte, but I usually kept the extremely personal stuff to myself.

  I didn't know Ben that well. Cam talked about him a lot when we were in college, but in passing and usually in association with Brody, so he didn't feel like a complete stranger. Plus, there was the way he was looking at me—as though he wanted to hear anything and everything I had to say.

  Ben shifted even closer, bringing my attention back to him. "People say things they don't mean when they're hurting. Don't take it to heart."

  Heart? What did my heart have to do with the fact that my vagina was reminding me that it had been a while since I'd had sex? Holy crap, now I was thinking about that offer he'd made to have a little fun together. Dammit, how was I supposed to follow along in this conversation when my hormones were running amuck?

  Where were we?

  Oh, yeah. I'd crushed Brian and he'd accused me of being a cold witch who left a trail of broken men in her wake. You'd think that realization would cool me off, but it didn't.

  A light sheen of sweat broke out on my lower back and I drained the rest of my icy drink. Ben's eyes locked on my mouth when I licked a stray drop from my lips.

  "Looks like you're out of vodka now," he commented. "Want me to get you another?"

  "I don't know. Do you really have vodka at your place?" I asked, sh
ifting toward him the tiniest bit. I wasn't the most accomplished flirt, but I did my best.

  "I do. Are you considering my offer from earlier?" he asked.

  "It seems I am." Shit, was I really doing this? Thinking of going home with a complete stranger? God, he smelled good.

  I guess technically he wasn't since I'd heard Cam talk about the Murphy brothers for years since college. Ben was the wild one. The bad boy. But he "had a good heart" as she was so fond of saying. And Colette, Cam's mom, adored him. Always told me that he was like the son she never had, which drove J.J., her actual son, crazy. I loved it when that happened because J.J. was too much of a straight arrow anyway. Since high school, he'd never stepped one toe out of line.

  I'd enjoyed Ben's company at Colette and Malcolm's today and he'd made me smile the first time I met him, which happened to be the first day I was in town. He was funny and intelligent. All of my ex-boyfriends had been smart, but they hadn't entertained me the way Ben already had in just a few short interactions.

  Ben leaned toward me, distracting me from my mental tangent, and I couldn't control the urge to mirror the gesture. His chest pressed against mine as he bent his head. "If that's the case, I'd be happy to share my bottle with you."

  My brain reminded me this was a very bad idea, but my vagina, and nipples, decided that her opinion didn't count.

  "I don't have my car," I stated. Earlier, I'd called an honest-to-God Uber in this tiny town. The guy driving the car was ancient and we didn't exceed thirty miles per hour, but he was funny and sweet, telling me all about his wife on the ride here. I was also fairly certain he was the only Uber driver in the area.

  His lips brushed my ear when he asked, "Don't trust me to drive you home?"

  Oh, I was definitely going to do this. The light touch of his mouth on the shell of my ear was enough to make my nipples tingle.

  I shrugged. "Maybe you're the one who shouldn't trust me."

  "I'll take my chances," he murmured. He nuzzled my ear. "Why don't we get out of here and if you decide this isn't a good idea, I'll call Cam to come get you?"