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Wild for You (Crave Book 2)

Page 11

by C. C. Wood


  He sighed. "I know I screwed up, okay? I'm going to call Cam in a bit. You don't have to read me the riot act."

  "Who's reading anything?" I asked, patting his shoulder as I walked to the back door. "Though I did promise your sister I would make you squirm. Maybe I should tell your mom about the time you went skinny dipping with Christina Marins."

  J.J. hunched his shoulders and scuttled by me.

  "Oh, that was a good one," Ben murmured as he moved to come with me. "Be sure to mention the pictures."

  I glanced over my shoulder at him. "Do you mind if I talk to your brother alone for just a second?"

  His hazel eyes were keen as he met my gaze. "Planning on making him squirm, too?" he asked.

  I shook my head. "I just want to help him. I think he might be good for Cam."

  Ben smiled, it was small but sweet, almost boyish. "Fine. I'll give you three minutes."

  I grinned back. "More than long enough."

  I walked outside and approached Brody. "Hey, you okay?" I asked him.

  "Yeah," he answered softly. "Just wondering if I made a mistake yesterday when I took Cam to the movies."

  I shook my head. "No way." I hesitated. I didn't want to break the girl code, but I was afraid Brody would back off and hurt Cam's feelings if I didn't say something. Cam could be mad at me later if she wanted. "Look, she likes you a lot, okay? She keeps saying y'all are friends, but she's always had..." I trailed off and then Ben's words from last night came back to me. "A thing for you. Even when you made her so mad she could spit fire."

  Brody shot me a sideways glance. "You think so?"

  I laughed. "I know so." My smile faded. "Did J.J. warn you away from his baby sister?" I asked.

  It was Brody's turn to chuckle, but it contained little humor. "Not really. I think he's more worried she'll break my heart than about me breaking hers."

  I rolled my eyes. "She doesn't date much, so J.J. thinks she's not interested in relationships, but I'm pretty sure he's wrong." I knew I was saying too much, so I settled on adding, "Go by and talk to her this afternoon, see what she says. I made her take the day off, so she'll be home."

  Brody studied me. "Aren't you violating some kind of super secret friend law by telling me this?"

  I waggled a hand from side to side. "Maybe a little, but I don't think she'll be too angry with me."

  "Okay," he answered with a sigh. "I think I'll do that." He grinned at me, looking a lot like his brother, only with bright green eyes rather than hazel. "I'm glad you came out to talk to me, Sierra."

  "Me, too," I answered. "Now, go inside and get something to eat. I'll be in momentarily."

  As he walked inside, I looked around the McClanes' pretty backyard, thinking about how complicated family could be and wondering if I was blessed or cursed for not having a bigger family.

  It hit me then, all the possible complications I would have to deal with when Cam and Brody got their shit together. And I had no doubt they would. Ben and I had only hooked up twice and planned to keep things casual, but I was fairly sure that it wouldn't be long before Brody and Cam were serious.

  Years ago, Colette had confided in me that she thought Brody was perfect for her daughter if they could just stop bickering. After seeing them together now, I agreed with her. If he annoyed her that much, she wouldn't have engaged. She would have frozen him out, refusing to say more than a few words to him whenever she saw him. I'd seen it before, after her college boyfriend cheated on her. She said her piece and then pretended he didn't exist.

  If she really despised Brody, she would have done the same thing to him.

  Now that she was on that path with Brody, I knew I needed to stop hooking up with Ben. Their relationship was just starting, but I was pretty sure they would be together for a good, long while. That's the type of people they were. Relationship people. And they didn't give up on the people they cared about.

  And what were Ben and I? We'd just met and only had sex twice. We weren't anything.

  I also knew Cam. She put other people first. If Ben and I stopped seeing each other, even if it was amicable, she would feel awkward. Even though it wasn't a real relationship. I didn't want her to feel like she had to take sides.

  A few minutes after Brody had gone back inside, Ben appeared in the back door with a concerned expression on his face. "Hey, you okay?" he asked.

  I nodded, my brain moving too fast for my mouth to form words.

  "What happened? Did Brody say something?"

  I shook my head.

  "Are you the robot version of Sierra Watkins?"

  His wild question pulled me out of my silence. "What?"

  Ben's eyes twinkled, but he didn't smile. "You weren't speaking. I was worried the alien robot invasion had started."

  "Har, har. I do know how to be quiet."

  "I guess I haven't really seen that side of you yet," he said. "But I'll be sure to pay attention when it happens."

  Shit. He would never see my quiet side. Because we weren't going to keep doing this.

  "I think Brody is going to make a play for Cam," I said absently.

  "Like I said last night, it's about time. I think she'll be good for him," Ben said. "She doesn't let him get away with any bullshit but she's sweet, too. So after she tears him a new one, she'll give him a back rub."

  I had to laugh at that because it was so true. Cam would give tough love but followed it with nurturing.

  "But it does make things sort of difficult between us," I said, gesturing from me to him. "Brody didn't say all that much but I think he's got serious feelings for her."

  "Why does that make things harder? I understand why you don't want her to know, but you and I are on the same page."

  "I just don't think it's a good idea for us to continue. If it could possibly impact my best friend in a negative way..." I left it at that.

  Ben studied me for a long moment. Finally, he said, "I get where you're coming from, but I've been having a lot of fun with you the last week."

  I had fun with him, too.

  He paused as if considering something and asked, "What if we took sex out of the equation?"

  My mouth fell open. Say what?

  Ben laughed and I realized I'd said that last bit out loud in my surprise. "Don't get me wrong, the sex has been fucking hot, but I have fun with you just eating dinner and watching a movie. I haven't dated a lot of women who haven't had, um, an agenda. But you don't and that's—" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "Jesus, that sounds way more pathetic when I say it out loud. You know what, I get it. We should definitely take a step back."

  He started to turn back toward the house. My brain decided that was for the best but my mouth, my stupid, stupid mouth, had no common sense.

  "We could be friends," I called.

  Say what?

  That time, I managed to keep those words internal, thank God.

  Ben stopped and looked at me, but he didn't speak.

  Again, my brain was screaming "Abort, abort!"

  And I'm pretty sure there was a Klaxon going off in there somewhere.

  But my mouth just kept fucking moving.

  "I liked watching TV and eating dinner with you, too. I, uh, don't have a lot of friends and I could always use another one."

  Lies. All lies. I didn't necessarily hate people. I just hated that I didn't understand most of them. I blamed my parents since they were never around enough to encourage me to socialize, so instead, I became a freak who studied constantly, skipped a grade, and ended up in college at the age of seventeen. That was hell on my dating life just because I was technically jailbait until the second semester of my freshman year.

  I cleared my throat. "Um, and that sounded a lot more pathetic out loud also."

  Ben smiled at me. It wasn't the cocky grin or sexy smirk I'd grown used to over the past few days. It was a wide, beaming, genuine smile. I could see the shadow of the boy he must have been once.

  It was as if I was seeing the real Benjamin Murp
hy for the first time and, holy fucking shit, he was so beautiful it was blinding.

  Before he could respond, his eyes shifted to something behind me. "Damn, look at the huge raccoon."

  A cold chill slithered up my spine, completely destroying the brain fog his gorgeous smile had conjured. I whipped my head around and gasped as I saw Gary the Evil Raccoon crouched by the fence about twenty feet away.

  What in the hell was he doing here? Had he followed us? The McClanes' house was nearly all the way across town. Granted it was only a five- or six-minute drive, but still, in raccoon distance that was a lot.

  "Don't. Fucking. Move," I muttered between clenched teeth, refusing to take my eyes off my nemesis.

  "Is that the raccoon you told me about?" Ben asked, his voice way too loud.

  The question caught Gary's attention and the rabid bastard froze before turning his head in slow motion like some sort of freakshow right out of a horror movie. His eyes locked on me and his surprisingly white teeth were revealed as he snarled.

  "Yes," I whispered.

  "I thought you were exaggerating," Ben mumbled.

  I shifted back, my body tense. "How far is the door?"

  Gary lifted one leg and took a single step toward me, pausing as though he wanted to plan his angle of attack with the utmost precision.

  "Ben," I prompted when the silence stretched on too long.

  "Two feet behind me. Five behind you."

  I slid one heel back and suppressed a wince as my shoe scraped against an acorn or rock on the wooden deck.

  The spawn of Satan seemed to take that as some sort of starting shot because he sprang into action. His fat body lengthened and stretched as he bounded across the backyard, straight toward me. His lips were curled back, and I could see murder gleaming in his cold, black eyes.

  "Run for your life!" I screeched, wheeling around.

  Ben, who would forevermore be known as my hero, moved faster than I ever imagined he could. He flung the back door open, planted a hand between my shoulder blades as I flew past him, and shoved me into the house. My shoes skidded on the linoleum in the laundry room and I did an excellent impression of a young Tom Cruise in Risky Business until I crashed into the dryer.

  I heard the back door slam and twisted around in time to see Gary go splat against the glass of the storm door.

  He fell back and for one sweet moment, I thought he'd done himself in. But he jumped to his feet quickly enough, chittered raccoon curses at Ben, and scampered out of sight.

  Ben stared after him, his chest heaving. He looked shell-shocked. Dumbfounded. Flabbergasted. Dazed even.

  There was nothing but the sound of our uneven breaths for a few seconds before he turned toward me.

  "How does something that fat move that fast?" he asked.

  "Demonic possession?" I replied with a shrug. "Maybe some kind of toxic green ooze?"

  Ben stared at me, speechless, before he clutched his stomach and laughed.

  "Only you," he gasped. "Only you could make a mortal enemy of the most obese raccoon on the planet."

  11

  At nine-thirty that night, I threw open the side door to Cam's house and screeched to a halt. Her ass was planted on the counter, Brody stood between her legs, and they were making out. I studied them but didn't say anything as I stomped past, trying to ignore the wet, sticky stuff inside my sneakers.

  I had to walk with my legs spread because I had ice cream in my pants, too.

  My eyes were also burning, but that was probably due to the fact that I'd just walked in on Cam and Brody making out in the kitchen. While part of me was glad she was finally getting some action, the rest of me really didn't need to see it.

  If I hadn't been covered in ice cream goop, I would have celebrated the fact that I was right and she was lying to herself. They were definitely more than just friends. Ha!

  "You okay?" Cam called after me.

  I hollered back, "Fine. But you can blame that one's brother for my bad mood."

  I couldn't hear exactly what was said after that, but I did hear them laughing.

  I figured it was due to the fact that I was absolutely covered in melted ice cream, sticky caramel and chocolate, flecks of whipped cream, and even pieces of nuts.

  How did that happen you ask?

  Sexism.

  Okay, so maybe the concept of traditional gender roles just played a small role in the incident, but the root of the entire disaster was sexism.

  Since Cam had the night off and she'd left me at her parents' house, Ben had given me a ride to work. He also promised to swing by and pick me up so I wouldn't have to call an Uber. At the time, I'd found it sweet, until he'd dropped by at closing because he wanted to "help me."

  This "help" included trying to take the garbage bags away from me when I carried them out to toss them in the dumpster. My independence was offended because I'd been doing this task every night for almost a week, so we ended up playing tug-of-war with two very full trash bags. At least until one of the bags burst.

  All over me.

  Needless to say, I'd gone back into the shop and locked him outside. He refused to leave without me, and I doubted very much that Marty the Uber Driver would allow me in his pristine Buick in my present condition, so I'd relented when Ben insisted that he would drive me home as promised.

  But I'd made sure to rub my chocolate-syrup-covered-ass all over his nice leather upholstery.

  By the time I'd gotten back to Cam's house, I had melted ice cream in some very private places. If I hadn't been so irritated, I would have laughed at the scene playing out in the kitchen because it was clear Brody had taken my advice earlier today and run with it.

  I marched into my room, stripping off my clothes as I walked to the shower. How in the hell had Cam managed to work six days a week like this for six years? It was nuts. My feet hurt. My ankles hurt.

  Even my belly button hurt. Don't ask me how that happened because I don't freakin' know.

  Then again, monkey sex with a big, strong man less than twenty-four hours ago could have a little something to do with soreness.

  I refused to entertain the thought though because I was still irritated with him. In a few hours, I might see the humor, but until then, I was holding a grudge.

  Ten minutes after I entered my room, my long, wet hair was wound in a towel turban on top of my head and I wore nothing but another towel because I was too tired to get dressed. I sprawled out on top of Cam's incredibly comfy guest bed and groaned when my phone chimed.

  If it was Mr. Barnes, I was quitting.

  I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and flopped over onto my belly.

  Ouch.

  First things first, where was my phone? I thought hard and then remembered. It was in the back pocket of my jeans. I turned my head and grinned. My pants were on the floor at the end of the bed, thank God. I reached out to drag them toward me, careful not to get ice cream all over the comforter, and my phone chimed again.

  Shit, if the person messaging me was this impatient then it probably was my boss.

  Ugh.

  I wrangled my phone out of my back pocket, dreading the name I would see on the screen.

  But it wasn't Mr. Barnes. It was Ben.

  I can't sleep. What r u doing? R U still mad at me?

  Shit, are you actually sleeping? Or just not speaking to me?

  I wanted to laugh. Or throw my phone, but I couldn't decide which. I was still kinda upset with him, but I also liked that he was willing to reach out to me even though he knew I was mad.

  I'm not asleep. Just unable to move. And, yes, I'm still mad at u for the incident that shall not be named.

  A few seconds later, my phone rang.

  I very nearly ignored it because, while I wasn't as angry as I'd been earlier, I wasn't lying when I said I was still a little upset. Finally, with a sigh, I hit the green button on the screen and lifted it to my ear.

  "Why are you calling me if you know I'm upset with you?" I asked.


  "I had to know why you can't move," he said, his voice low and rough. "And I wanted to tell you I'm sorry again."

  I shivered. He sounded a little sleepy and a whole lot sexy.

  "I replaced Cam at work today, ran for my life from an overweight raccoon, played tug-of-war with a guy over some trash bags, and my whole body hurts. I don't know how she does this every day. Not to mention I walked in on your brother sticking his tongue down her throat when I got home."

  Ben chuckled in my ear. The sound went a long way to dampening my annoyance. Damn, why did he have to be so, so...hot? Friends. We were just friends. If I had to, I would repeat it like a mantra for the next few weeks.

  "For what it's worth, I am sorry about all of that, too."

  I grunted at him, which made him chuckle again.

  "Worked you into the ground, huh?" he asked, changing the subject.

  Smart man.

  "For my day job, I usually spend most of my working hours on my ass, which is good because I'm discovering that's what I prefer." Okay, that was a partial lie because I really did like working with Cam. She was a terrific co-worker. She didn't expect me to do ninety percent of the work and she wasn't moody or inconsiderate. Definitely five out of five stars in terms of colleague ratings.

  Ben laughed again. "So you're lying in bed?" he asked.

  Fuck. Me. Now all I could think of was if he was lying in bed. Naked.

  Mad? Who was mad? Because I wasn't anymore.

  "Yep. If I hadn't made it in here, I'd be on the living room floor. You already in bed?"

  "Yeah, but I can't sleep." He paused. "So, what are you wearing?"

  I could hear the smile in his voice and knew he was teasing me, even though I half wished he wasn't. "Listen, I don't do pervy phone calls, mister, so if that's what you're after, call a nine-hundred number." I waited a beat before I threw in. "But first tell me what you're wearing."

  He laughed. Just like I meant for him to. God, I liked making him laugh. And I was glad that he liked my sense of humor. I'd had both male friends and quite a few dates who remained blank-faced when I cracked a joke.

  "I will if you will," he shot back.

 

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