I Crave You Page 3

  "Oh, my God," Sierra sighed. "This is perfect, Cam." She dragged her suitcase into the room and looked around before her eyes came to me. "I didn't think you'd be able to fit a queen bed in here but it definitely works."

  My guest room was done in shades of light blues and greens. The walls were white and I'd kept the furniture to a minimum. The result was airy and light.

  "Thanks."

  Sierra dropped her bags in the corner and twirled around in the center of the room before she fell backward onto the bed, her arms and legs splayed out.

  "Ahhhhh," she sighed. "This is the best thing ever. I'm never moving out."

  I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned my shoulder against the doorjamb. "Awesome, I'll draw up your rental agreement in the morning."

  "Rental agreement?" Her head popped up as she stared at me with bugged eyes. "You would charge your best friend and business partner rent?"

  "Hell yeah. I am, first and foremost, a businesswoman."

  Sierra smiled, sly, and a little scary. "I'm so glad I've finally rubbed off on you." She let her head fall back and closed her eyes. "Now, go away so I can take a nap. Did I mention I've been up since before dawn?"

  "Only a couple of times. Instead of giving us both food poisoning when you attempt to cook dinner, why don't you come by the shop around closing? Maybe grab some takeout on your way?"

  Sierra didn't bother to respond to my jab about her cooking. "Yeah, yeah. Pizza or tacos?"

  "Burgers from the gas station."

  "God, I'd forgotten about those," she groaned. "Sounds great. See you at eight."

  Her eyes were closed before I even left the room.

  3

  I walked into my parents' house Sunday afternoon with Sierra in tow, only to be greeted with a shower of frigid iced tea.

  "Holy forking shit!" I cried.

  I pinched my soaked shirt between my thumbs and index fingers and pulled it away from my skin. My entire outfit was now uncomfortably wet and chilly but also stained with tea.

  "I'm sorry." I glanced down at the direction of the young voice and saw a little girl with long dark hair and big, tear-filled eyes. Very distinctive green eyes. "I didn't mean to."

  I blinked at her for a prolonged moment until Sierra nudged me. "Uh, It's okay. Accidents happen."

  The girl sniffled. "I'm Jacks."

  "Jacks?" I parroted, blinking again.

  "Jacqueline Josephine Murphy."

  I glanced up at the deep voice and lost any ability to speak. Brody Murphy stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. A grey t-shirt hugged his upper body and a pair of faded jeans clung to his hips and thighs in all the right places. His dark hair was the shortest I'd ever seen it, leaving the sharp edges of his cheekbones and jawline on full display. His fingers curved around a beer bottle and he lifted it to his lips, hiding the smirk. Behind me, Sierra moaned quietly, jerking me out of my mindless perusal.

  "A little wet there, Cam?"

  "If she's not, I am," Sierra whispered behind me.

  I glanced over my shoulder at her and cut my eyes toward the little girl beside me.

  A faint pink tinge rolled over Sierra's cheeks. "Oops."

  "Oh, dear." I turned toward the sound of my mother's voice.

  "I said I was sorry, Daddy," Jacks said. Her voice trembled with tears.

  Brody opened his mouth but I cut him off. "It's okay. I didn't announce myself when I came in and she didn't know I was here."

  He stared at me, his expression inscrutable, but he closed his mouth.

  "You still have some clothes upstairs," my mother piped in.

  I winked down at Jacks, who gave me a faint smile, and left the living room without a word. I stared Brody down as I walked by, telling him with my eyes to leave her alone.

  He stared right back, but I could see the hint of a dimple in his right cheek. Probably because I looked ridiculous, walking with my legs slightly spread and hunched over to keep the cold, wet fabric from sticking to my skin.

  I headed up the stairs to my old room. I hesitated at the top, listening to the murmur of voices coming from downstairs. I wouldn't put it past Brody to chastise his daughter once I was out of earshot.

  Surprisingly, I heard a peal of little girl laughter a second later.

  Hmmmm. That wasn't what I expected. Especially considering the stern way he'd called out his daughter's name a few moments ago.

  Satisfied that he wasn't going to give her hell, I went into my room and shut the door behind me. Mom had left my furniture alone when I moved out but she had removed all the posters and assorted heartthrob magazine pictures taped to the wall. She'd also packed away most of my trophies and ribbons with the exception of a few.

  I stripped off my clothes and carried them into the bathroom, pausing when I reached the door. Mom had changed this up quite a bit since the last time I'd been up here. There was a new white pedestal sink with sleek, curved lines and a new toilet. The shower had also been retiled and enclosed in sparkling, clear glass.

  Since my skin was sticky from the tea, I dropped the pile in my arms onto the tile floor and opened the shower door. Might as well test out the new equipment. I fiddled with the knobs for a few minutes and studied the multiple showerheads. Though my hair was in a ponytail, I still didn't want to get it wet. Finally, I figured out how it all worked and turned on the water.

  And fell in love.

  I wanted to luxuriate beneath the hot flow of water but I knew my mother would be up here, banging on the door, if I stayed too much longer.

  With a sigh, I turned off the water and toweled off. Knowing my mother's propensity to always be prepared, I opened the medicine cabinet and grinned when I saw not only a new toothbrush still in the package and a tube of toothpaste, but moisturizer, lotion, and deodorant, all unopened and lined up neatly on the shelves.

  I applied deodorant and went back into my childhood bedroom to the dresser where Mom stored my old clothes. As soon as I opened the top drawer, I knew this afternoon was going to be shitshow.

  Dread bloomed in my belly as I opened the other two drawers in the dresser and quickly turned into resignation. I grabbed a handful of fabric from the top and middle drawers and slammed them shut.

  I was just tugging the tank top down over my torso when there was a light tap on the bedroom door.

  Sierra stuck her head in and her eyes widened. She stared, then blinked, then stared some more.

  "What?" I asked, lifting my arms in frustration.

  "You look like every teenage boy's fantasy," she blurted.

  I looked down and saw the way the scooped neck of the tank top emphasized the upper curves of my breasts where the bikini top plumped them up. The teeny bottoms that matched the top were hidden by a pair of tight denim cutoffs leftover from my college days.

  Actually, I was kind of impressed I fit into them. The entire reason I'd left them here was because I hadn't been able to button them and breathe at the same time. Maybe working out nearly every day was helping. Yeah, probably not. Most likely it was the fact that I was so busy with the shop that I barely had time to eat.

  "It's the same stuff I wore in college," I replied. I couldn't help the defensive edge in my voice.

  "Yeah, but you didn't fill it out that way in college," Sierra shot back.

  I sighed and went back into the bathroom to grab my wet things, taking a moment to wrap them in the towel I'd used to dry off. "These were the only things in the dresser that remotely fit. Even my bra is completely soaked and there's no way I'm bouncing around the house braless with Brody Murphy and his daughter here."

  Sierra studied me and cocked her head. "I'm not sure Brody would mind all that much."

  I didn't dignify that with an answer as I slipped by her and went back downstairs. I could hear everyone in the kitchen as I snuck by to the laundry room. I had just enough time to wash and dry my clothes so I could wear them to work later.

  Sierra didn't follow me and I was glad. I didn't want to talk about Brody with her. We might not see each other as often as I wanted, but she was still my best friend. She knew me better than anyone and could see straight through my defenses.

  I tossed the clothes in the washer, added soap, and closed the lid. I turned to leave the laundry room and gasped when I saw the large man looming behind me.

  I stumbled back and fell against the washing machine. Brody moved quickly and steadied me with a hand on my hip.

  "Jesus Christ, Brody. You scared me half to death."

  "Sorry."

  Yeah, he sounded really sorry.

  I straightened and leaned my hips back against the washer, which was still filling with water. The noise was so loud I couldn't hear him when he spoke again.

  "What?" I asked.

  He stepped forward, right in my space. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end at his proximity and I crossed my arms over my chest.

  "I'm sorry about Jacks. I appreciate that you didn't fly off the handle with her."

  If he'd said something like that to me ten years ago, I would have snapped at him. Now, I just lifted an eyebrow and asked, "What did you expect me to do, scream at her?"

  Brody sighed just as the washer finished filling and the cacophony of rushing water faded into the low hum of the agitator. "Not exactly. But I did think you'd be a little more...upset."

  I inhaled sharply and released the breath in a slow, steady stream. When I was sure I could speak calmly, I said, "Brody, she's a little girl and it wasn't intentional. Believe it or not, I've had children spill drinks, melted ice cream, and other much more disgusting things on me. I've been puked on, peed on, and on one occasion pooped on, though in the baby's defense it was beyond his control. I would never hold it against a child for accidentally dousing
me with tea. If she'd done it on purpose, that would be a different story, but it was obvious that she didn't mean it and she apologized. Now, I only have an hour and a half to eat and spend time with my family before I have to get to the shop and open up for the afternoon, so if you'll excuse me..."

  I stepped to the side in an effort to skirt around him, but Brody sidestepped with me. I didn't try to go the other way. I remained still and stared up at him, letting my annoyance show.

  "Why do you always assume I think the worst of you?" he asked, frowning at me.

  "Because you usually do, Brody. And this is a perfect example of that. Since my freshman year of high school, you've picked at everything I say and do and seem to derive some sick pleasure out of it."

  He looked...shocked. "I don't do that. I wouldn't pick on you if I didn't care about you."

  "I'm sure that makes it all okay, then," I retorted. "Look, we're both adults. I can be civil to you when I see you. All that I ask is that you do the same for me. I'm used to it and I'm not going to make a big thing of it if you can't help yourself. But please don't act surprised when I don't lower myself to your expectations."

  Brody stared at me but didn't try to stop me when I moved around him once again.

  As I left the laundry room, I smiled. It was the first time I'd clearly and concisely told Broderick Murphy exactly what I thought of him and it was freeing. I hadn't realized that there was a dark corner of my brain that housed my insecurities in regard to him. The deficiencies that he always seemed to jab, poke, and prod with frightening precision.

  Somehow, in the last seven years, I'd moved beyond caring what Brody thought of me. Did it still irk me a little that he expected me to be the reactive, emotional girl I once was? Yes, but it no longer burned in my belly the way it would have.

  I guess I'd grown up after all.

  Well, only a little since I intended to charge him full price if he brought Jacks into the shop.

  Mom was just placing the food out on the dining room table when I entered. She was in the process of setting a bowl of salad down when her hand arrested in midair as she studied my attire.

  "You look...summery," she finally said.

  I shrugged. "It was this or a pair of my old track shorts, crop top, and no bra."

  "I'm sure this will be fine," she murmured.

  "Do you need me to bring anything else to the table?" I asked.

  Mom shook her head. I moved over to my usual seat and was just about to plop down when a pair of arms wrapped around my waist and yanked me off my feet.

  I clutched at the arms and squealed as I was spun around in rapid, wide circles. My eyes wouldn't focus and I staggered when he released me. But I still managed to punch my brother in the shoulder hard enough to make him yelp and rub the spot.

  "Jeez, Cam, no need for violence."

  Before he could defend himself, I punched him in the other shoulder.

  "Ow! What the he—"

  "Jackson Joseph McClane, watch your mouth." My mother's sharp remonstration interrupted his complaint. While she wasn't yelling, the woman had a way of projecting her voice in such a way that you could hear her, loud and clear, over any other background noise. I think if she hadn't married my father and become a nurse in his office that she could have had a career in the theater. "There is a child present and your mother who doesn't appreciate your foul mouth."

  Speaking of the child, I realized that her name was the feminine of J.J.'s and my chest tightened. Brody had named his daughter after my brother. It was incredibly sweet.

  J.J. shot me a baleful glare as he rubbed his sore shoulders. "Sorry, Mom."

  "Now, if you two are done acting like idiots, how about we have a nice family meal together?"

  My brother moved around the table, still glaring at me, and took the seat between Jacks and Sierra. That meant that the seat next to me was for Brody.

  Great. Just great.

  4

  You know when you're stuck sitting next to someone who irritates you and you get that feeling like hot prickles on the skin closest to them?

  No? Maybe that's just something I experience.

  Or maybe Brody Murphy finally succeeded in driving me over the edge.

  My right arm and leg tingled like crazy as though I were sitting too close to a bonfire and I swore that I could actually feel his presence.

  Perfect. I was going to stress eat all during lunch, which would make my already snug cut-offs even tighter. So much for fitting in my clothes from college.

  I growled under my breath as I reached for my iced tea and took a sip. I shot a look to my right when Brody made a strange coughing-slash-choking sound. He didn't meet my gaze but kept his eyes on his plate.

  "Miss McClane?"

  I glanced up at the sound of Jacks' voice. Brody's daughter met my gaze and I noticed that while her eyes were a slightly different shade from her father's, they were shaped the same. Her stare was almost as piercing as her father's as well.

  "Please call me Cam, Jacks."

  She glanced at her father. I followed her example and saw Brody nod at her.

  "Uncle J said you own an ice cream shop. Is that true?"

  I grinned at her. "Yes, it is. And I make all my own ice cream too."

  "Really?"

  "Yep. Twelve flavors that I offer daily and three that change with the seasons or my mood."

  Her answering grin was huge. "That sounds great. I wish I could try them all."

  "You're welcome to come by any time. I'd be happy to let you."

  Her smile faded a little. "Mom doesn't like it when I eat ice cream. She said it'll make me fat." She studied me. "Do you eat the ice cream in your shop? Because you're not fat at all."

  My eyes shot over to Brody and I bit my bottom lip. I could see the muscles in his jaw ticking. I felt another wave of heat against my right side and I was pretty sure it was anger. He didn't say anything though.

  Well, if he wasn't going to address the sudden, gigantic elephant in the room, I was.

  I turned back to Jacks. "I do eat my ice cream, sweetie. But I try not to eat too much of it. Anything can be bad for you if you eat a whole lot." I peered at Brody out of the corner of my eye, but he remained silent, so I soldiered on. If I was going to screw this up, I was going to do a magnificent job. "But you shouldn't worry about being fat. You're still pretty young and have a lot of growing to do. If you eat well, stay active, and get plenty of rest, you'll be very healthy and that's more important. If you feel good on the inside, it shows on the outside, regardless of the size or shape of your body."

  I chanced another quick look at Brody, but the ticking in his jaw was noticeably absent. My mother looked almost proud.

  I ignored them all because it made me uncomfortable and refocused on Jacks.

  "Yeah, I told Mom that Dad said that and she said it was a load of bull..." Jacks' eyes slid to Brody. "Uh, just bull."

  I couldn't stop myself from looking at him again and saw that the muscles in his jaw were once again tight and hard. I thought I even heard his teeth crack a little.

  "Um, well, Jacks, there are some people who think that way but my father is the one who told me all this and he's a medical doctor, so he probably knows, right?"

  Jacks turned her avid gaze to my father. "You're a doctor?"

  My dad smiled at her, but I could tell it was forced. I knew he hated hearing children repeat some of the things their parents said and this was one of those times he would rather express his outrage to Jacks' mother rather than pretend he wasn't upset. But he was a pediatrician and he considered it his job to establish a good rapport with his young patients.

  "Yes, I am," he replied.

  Finally, Brody spoke. "He'll be your doctor now that we live in Farley."

  For such a little girl, Jacks' eyes were piercing, as though she perceived more than other kids her age. "You're a kid doctor?"

  Dad nodded.

  Finally, Jacks grinned. "I dig it."

  I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing. This time when my dad smiled, it didn't look forced at all.

  I looked down at my plate and caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Brody's hand was fisted on his thigh, so tightly that his knuckles were white.

  Without thinking, I reached out and put my hand on his forearm. Then my brain kicked into gear and I froze. Before I could move my hand away, he reached over with his right hand and covered mine.