Wild for You (Crave Book 2)

by C. C. Wood

  Sometimes I hated having a friend whose family treated me like one of their own.

  "Fine, I'll do it," I relented. "But if I get rabies, I'm taking you down with me."

  "What? Are you gonna bite me, too?" she asked, clearly not taking me seriously.

  "You bet your ass."

  She snorted behind me as I marched back into the kitchen toward the pantry. I immediately saw the plastic dog food container and opened it. There was a little cup right on top, so I scooped up a good bit of the dry food and carried it toward the back door.

  As soon as I reappeared, the tapping stopped. I glanced down. Gary was gone.

  Oh. Shit.

  Moving slowly, I walked to the back door and unlocked it. I ignored the muffled sound of Cam's laughter. She could laugh all she wanted but I really, really didn't want to get scratched or bitten because stitches and rabies shots sucked.

  I put my hand on the knob and looked from side-to-side, even taking a moment to crouch down and look up to make sure he wasn't leaning over the edge of the roof, waiting to attack from above.

  I wasn't going out there until I knew where he was.

  Then I saw one of the bushes that surrounded the patio move and caught a glimpse of little black paws and a jiggly belly covered in gray fur underneath it. The bush was about fifteen feet from the back door.

  I should have enough time to dump the food into the bowl, which Gary had considerately left by the back door, and dart back into the house. Even if he wanted to bite me, he wouldn't have the time.

  I took a deep breath and steeled myself. In one quick motion, I opened the door, leaned out, and dumped the food in the bowl. In less than three seconds, I was back inside and slammed the door shut.

  It wasn't until I twisted the lock that Gary emerged from the bush and scurried up to the food bowl. He gave me one last glare and commenced with stuffing his face.

  "Ungrateful asshole," I muttered.

  Stiff fingers dug into my ribs as Cam yelled right behind me. I'd been so focused on that damn raccoon that I hadn't noticed she'd snuck up on me.

  I screamed and threw my hands in the air, the scoop flying out of my grip and into the living room.

  I whirled on her, ready to exact my revenge when something small pinged against the glass. I stiffened and turned around just in time to see Gary fling another piece of food at the door again.

  Cam started laughing, but she was trying to hold it back, so it came out as muffled screeches.

  I flipped them both off. Clearly, no one was going to appreciate me today.

  "I'm going to get ready." Cam managed to say between muffled guffaws. "We'll be leaving in an hour, so get a move on."

  Then, she ran away like the little bitch she was.

  Oh, I was so going to get her for this.

  7

  After I put Gary's food cup away, I hurried into my bedroom to get ready for the day. I might be on vacation from my day job, but after seeing how hard Cam worked at Crave, I couldn't shake the guilt of not helping more. She insisted I was a silent partner and she was paying me back via installments for the initial investment I'd made into the business, but I was more than her business partner. I was her friend. It wasn't right that I was reaping the benefits of her business without helping her now.

  Sure, I'd given her money to start Crave, but I despised the idea that she might be working herself to the bone to pay me back.

  And since I knew she wouldn't let me cancel the debt, I would make her life easier.

  Plus, she basically challenged me to a competition to see who could get ready the fastest. Considering she wore make-up a lot more often than I did, I was pretty confident I would beat her.

  I jumped in the shower and sped through my typical wash and rinse routine. My hair was too long to dry completely before I had to be out the door, so I scrubbed most of the water out of it with a towel and gave it a five-minute blow dry. It was still wet when I wove it into a braid and then wound it up in a bun on the crown of my head.

  I was dressed, with my shoes in my hand, when I opened the door to my bedroom and heard the radio playing in Cam's room. I grinned. I was going to beat her after all.

  Then, I realized I hadn't brushed my teeth.

  Shit. I closed the door gently behind me so she wouldn't think I was leaving and run out of her room. Then I hurried into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

  Was it more than a little juvenile to race while getting ready to leave the house?

  You bet, but it was fun, too. It was also the only way we'd ever gotten anywhere on time when we were roommates, so it was a comfortable habit from our college days.

  So, in short, it was immature, but I didn't care.

  With my teeth brushed, I grabbed my shoes and stuck my feet in them as I snuck down the hallway. I decided that I couldn't do without another cup of coffee, even though Cam was quick and it had already been nearly forty minutes. She would definitely be ready to leave soon, but caffeine was worth it.

  As the coffee brewed, I thought I heard the front door close quietly.

  Shit! I stuck my head out of the kitchen, but Cam's door was shut and the radio was still playing.

  Coffee forgotten, I crept out the front door, a grin on my face, and promptly ruined my efforts to be sneaky when my sandal caught on the edge of the welcome mat. I managed to stay on my feet for a few staggering steps, knocking stuff off the porch and making the most godawful racket. There went my advantage of stealth.

  Finally, gravity took over and I ended up face-first in one of Cam's flowerbeds.

  "Fuck," I grumbled, lying still in the dirt and bushes. I needed a few seconds to come to terms with my humiliation before I got up. It was unlikely anyone had seen me, but it was the principal of the matter.

  As I lay in the dirt, contemplating my life choices, I heard footsteps approach and lifted my head when hands closed over my arms to haul me to my feet.

  Apparently, I wasn't alone after all.

  "Where in the heck did you come from?" I asked Cam as I brushed dirt, leaves, and broken flower stems from the front of my body.

  "I've been waiting out here for the last ten minutes." Cam smirked down at me before she reached up and removed a small twig from my hair.

  "Ugh. I thought I beat you! I can't believe you cheated!" I groaned.

  "Cheated? Me?"

  The serious side-eye I shot her said what I thought of that innocent question. "You left the radio on in your bedroom. You knew I'd think you were still getting ready."

  "Sucker," she laughed.

  "Shut up. Shit, I forgot my coffee." If I had already lost, then I definitely needed some caffeine.

  Cam grabbed my arm. "Don't worry. I made you a travel mug. It's in the car. I also have a machine at the shop, so I can brew more later if I need to."

  "I guess I can forgive you for cheating then," I acquiesced. I was actually kind of impressed. Not only had she gotten ready faster than I had, she'd even had time to make me a cup of coffee to soothe the sting of losing our good-natured competition.

  I climbed into the car and buckled in as Cam went to the driver's seat. I could practically hear the gears in her head turning as she backed out of the driveway and started toward the shop.

  Finally, she asked, "Why didn't you tell me about Brian when you told me you wanted to come visit?"

  I shrugged and stared out the window. I didn't want to see the look on her face when I answered her because I decided to be brutally honest. I was already hiding my thing with Ben from her. I didn't want to hide more. "There wasn't anything to tell. He thought we were serious, I didn't. I hurt him. And I wanted to avoid the postmortem because it makes me feel like a complete asshole," I admitted. I paused, but I faced her again and attempted to lighten the mood in the car. "Besides, I was bored and it's been two years since we've seen each other. It seemed like a good idea until today. If I'd known you were going to make me work for my room and board, I would've gotten a hotel room."

  "No other
reason?" she asked, ignoring my deliberate guilt trip.

  "No." I drank from the cup she'd brought me and decided that I couldn't talk about this anymore.

  I could tell by the expression on her face she was going to ask me another question, I wracked my brain for something to say and pounced on the perfect subject to distract her.

  "Yesterday's lunch was interesting," I said.

  The look she shot me was slightly suspicious and a little confused. "What do you mean?"

  "Just that you'd have to be completely and utterly oblivious not to feel the tension between you and Brody Murphy." I suppressed a grin when she muffled a sigh. Ha, two could play the uncomfortable question game. I loved Cam, but she could pry information out of someone better than a government-trained spy. I think it came from growing up in a small town.

  "Brody and I have a history. He's my brother's best friend and my teenage crush-slash-nemesis. That's all."

  The words were typical Cam but I detected more than a hint of defensiveness in her tone. I looked at her and raised a single eyebrow, knowing it would irritate her.

  "History? Oh, no, Cam. That wasn't history I saw yesterday. That was definitely something very current."

  "Brody came by the shop last night to apologize," she blurted out.

  I stared at her in surprise. "What? Why didn't you tell me when I woke you up?"

  "I wanted to avoid the post-mortem. It was too gruesome for early morning conversation." She grimaced when she spoke.

  "What happened? Did y'all have another argument? Did you have angry sex in the kitchen?"

  Cam pulled into her parking spot behind Crave and gaped at me. "Where did that come from?"

  "Seriously?"

  "Yes, seriously."

  I had to shake my head. Either Cam was playing dumb or she was in denial. "Don't act like you're ignorant to the fact that the sexual tension between you and Brody Murphy is off-the-charts. I think everyone at that lunch table yesterday knew it except for maybe his little girl and only because she's too young and innocent to understand such things."

  "You are off your rocker if you think there's sexual tension between Brody and...and..." Cam sputtered before she finally trailed off.

  "You?" I said.

  "Yes!"

  "I don't think I'm the one who's crazy if you're claiming that it's not true." I pointed out.

  "It's not!" There was a definite snap in her voice.

  There was only one way to get her to face the truth. I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms over my chest. "Okay then. What happened?"

  She mimicked me, the smirk on her face telling me it was an intentional gesture. "He came by, I ignored him. He snuck up on me in the back and I tried to punch him in the face. Then we talked a little and he apologized. I accepted. It was all very civil and mature and I think we're going to get along much better now."

  "Oh, really?" I asked.

  "Yes. Neither of us is a teenager any longer. We can be friends."

  "If you say so," I said, knowing it would drive her even crazier. I unbuckled my seatbelt and climbed out of the car.

  "We can," Cam insisted as she followed me.

  "Uh-huh."

  "We can!"

  I didn't continue to argue, just gestured toward the back door so she would unlock it.

  Cam grumbled beneath her breath as she stuck the key in the lock and let us inside the kitchen. She set about turning on lights and getting ready for the day when her phone chimed.

  I watched her as she glanced at it, noting the way her face softened and she smiled. I tiptoed closer and glanced at her screen. Though I had a pretty good idea who was texting her, I made a show of asking, "Who's HBA?"

  Cam jumped and glared at me. "What the hell, Sierra?! You scared me!"

  "Who's HBA?" I repeated.

  She was already staring down at the screen when she answered. "Brody."

  "What's that mean?"

  "Hot but annoying," she answered, understanding exactly what I was asking without explanation.

  I let loose a hoot of laughter. "I knew you still had a thing for him."

  "Acknowledging someone's hotness isn't the same as having a thing for them. It's like appreciating a work of art. You can think it's pretty without wanting to bone it."

  She sounded so prim and disapproving I couldn't resist repeating the one phrase I knew would annoy her. "If you say so."

  Again, it might be immature of us, but we could keep arguments like this going for hours. It was like a hobby.

  In an unusual response, Cam just walked away, already typing a reply to Brody on her phone. I watched her as she messaged back and forth with him for a few minutes and waited until she pocketed her phone before I called out, "You're totally gonna bone!"

  Cam flipped me off. "Quit your Wicked Witch of the West impression and get to work," she griped.

  "Cam and Brody, sittin' in a tree..." I sang.

  Before I could comprehend what she intended to do, Cam was holding the spray nozzle from the sink and shooting cold water at me. Somehow I managed to dodge most of the spray but the bottom edges of my shorts were soaked.

  "Dammit, Cam! Now it looks like I peed my pants! You are so dead!" I hollered.

  She waved the nozzle toward me in a threatening way. "Bring it."

  It seemed I would have to bide my time before seeking revenge. "I thought we were here to work, not goof off."

  As far as distractions went, it was weak but it got the job done.

  "Truce while we're at the shop?" she asked.

  "Fine. But once we walk out that door, watch your back."

  "I'm shaking in my flip flops," she said.

  "Shut up and get me a towel."

  "I can do better than that. I have a washer/dryer combo in the storage room. You can toss your shorts in there for a little bit."

  "And wear what?" I asked. I was glad I'd be able to dry my shorts but I was not walking around the store in nothing but a tank top and my underwear.

  "I have a pair of athletic shorts in my gym bag."

  "You don't belong to a gym," I pointed out as I followed her down the hall toward the office.

  "No, but I do like to go for runs a few times a week and I'm less likely to skip it if I have workout clothes on hand."

  "You're running?" I asked. Cam hated running. Or at least she had for the past ten years that I'd known her.

  "No need to sound so shocked. Thirty is a couple of years away and my metabolism isn't what it used to be."

  I scoffed. "Oh, put a sock in it. I've gained nearly ten pounds this year."

  "You could start going with me, if you wanted," she said.

  I had to laugh. "If you ever see me running, you'd better haul ass because it means I'm being chased by a zombie or an axe murderer."

  "So that's a no?" she asked, laughing as well.

  "That's a hell no."

  Cam unlocked her office and grabbed her gym bag off the hanger by the door. She pulled out what looked like a tiny scrap of black fabric.

  I took them from her with a sigh. "At least they're stretchy."

  And I was sure they'd make my ass look enormous, but they'd probably be more comfortable than wet shorts.

  I didn't wait around to hear her response, just hurried into the bathroom to get out of my shorts before my underwear became damp too.

  When I came out of the bathroom, Cam was in her office, in front of her ancient computer. I sighed. I was going to have to do what I could to convince her to upgrade to something from the last decade. Knowing her, she would resist investing the money because she wanted to hire more help. I couldn't blame her for that, so maybe I could "donate" one to the shop. If I made the old one disappear before she caught me, she would have no choice but to accept it. I grinned to myself. That might actually work.

  Cam and I spent the rest of the morning going over the books and, after a couple of intense hours of analysis, I announced that the shop could indeed afford an assistant manager.

&
nbsp; The relief on Cam's face told me that I had made the right decision to talk to her about hiring someone to help at the shop. It also made me realize that I'd been neglecting her update emails for a while now. I wondered how long ago she'd first mentioned it and felt a sharp stab of guilt. She'd sent them every quarter like clockwork since I invested but after the first few years, I figured she knew what she was doing and didn't need me to look over her shoulder. It seemed I needed to catch up on those soon.

  That was one of the main reasons I'd said I wanted to learn the day-to-day operations and some of the ice cream recipes. Not the only reason, but the main one. I'd realized that I could spend more time with Cam if I helped out at the store while I was here. Then again, I hadn't made ice cream with her yet. Considering my lack of skill in the kitchen, it could turn out to be a shitshow.

  Then there was the fact that even if we hired someone immediately and started training them, it would be weeks before they were up to speed. That meant all the responsibility would fall on Cam's shoulders anyway.

  I finally pushed back from the desk and turned to Cam.

  "We should put a want ad in the local paper and online," I said.

  She laughed and shook her head. "Give me five minutes."

  Still grinning at me, she picked up her cell phone and scrolled through it. She finally selected a name and lifted it to her ear. Then she said, ""Hi, Mrs. Phelps. It's Cameron McClane. How are you today?"

  Oh, my God. It was the infamous Mrs. Phelps who thought that I was Cam's girlfriend in a romantic sense rather than a platonic one. I had to meet this woman. She sounded like a character. There was also the fact that she shared a trait with me—she said what she was thinking without a filter. It wasn't always the most fortunate characteristic and sometimes my words came out wrong, but I always enjoyed meeting other people with that quirk. It reminded me that I wasn't the only awkward and accidentally offensive person on the planet. Verbal diarrhea was a real problem for a certain percentage of the population and it was nice to know I wasn't alone.

  I listened to Cam's conversation with Mrs. Phelps with half an ear as I swung back and forth in her swiveling office chair.